My Sister, My Lesbian Love
Chapter 1. Oxfordshire, 1924.
When did it start? There's no easy answer to that one. We had always been close, being less than a year apart in age and growing up together in a strict household. The house, our parents' old pile of dark brick in the backwaters of England, was run under what are now called 'Victorian Values' the one's so beloved of the right-wing newspapers. Back then before the war, it was common to be so restricted and emotionally distant from one's family. Among other things those insidious values meant rarely seeing our parents; perhaps an hour between tea and dinner if they were home. We would be dressed in clean clothes and put on our best behaviour by whichever nanny currently reigned supreme in the nursery. It was still called the nursery even though we were then 12 and 13 years old. The day room was high, dark and stuffy even in summer, but it was here we suffered the parental inquisition about our lessons and the day's activities. I don't remember either of my parents ever really embracing us or using any warm diminutive of our names Charlotte or Elizabeth. We called each other 'Lotte' and 'Liz' but never in front of our parents. We were dutiful offspring being educated 'correctly', prepared for lives as companions and wives of some middle-aged dullard of a civil servant or district officer in one of the Empire's farther reaches. A man established in his chosen career and looking for a young wife. That's they way is was for many people in the first quarter of the 20th century.
But the world was changing. Queen Victoria was long dead. The first cracks were appearing in the the fragile political structure of Empire. The first world war was over but it had left England devastated. So many eligible young men had given their lives in the 'war to end wars' it was apparent that many of our generation of women would be unable to find suitable husbands. Many women had worked during the war showing them the way out of their domestic prisons. The middle classes were expanding. Socialism was waking from it's long sleep, blinking in the light of it's new-found confidence and contemplating the writing on the wall with knowing interest. Now there was a perpetual and much discussed servant crisis because young girls preferred fixed hours in shops and factories to unending days labouring for a pittance in large houses. Industrial and social unrest was rife and a few year's hence a general strike would be called and then put down, on Churchill's orders, by troops.
It was against this background that our parents tried to isolate us fro sneak down to the forbidden library and secretly read the newspapers left lying around by our father. We'd hide and listen to the kitchen staff gossiping and flirting. In our own naive way we worked things out for ourselves. We had already agreed in our childish way that we'd always stay together. We agreed to live together when we were old enough and could find jobs. We knew that education was the key to our escape and to our future.
We learned voraciously as we grew older, as we became young women. Our bodies developed and our periods started within a few weeks of each other. And that I suppose is where this story might truly be said to start. We had come face to face with the fact that we were designed by nature to reproduce our species. We knew this was unlikely to happen but we were still curious. We studied the books in the library and gradually picked up an idea of physical love and it's importance to a good relationship. Then two things happened to accelerate our ascent along the learning curve
It was my logical older sister Lotte who suggested the first. We were then maybe 15 and 16 and discussing bedrooms in the house we would have together when we left our parent's home.
“Don't be silly” she exclaimed. “We'll only need two bedrooms, one for us and one for our guests if they come to stay. And we'll only need one bed if we are to live like other couples do.” I contemplated what this might mean. At that stage we had not so much as touched each other in any sexual way and had, like the proper young ladies we were, not shared a bed or a bath even in childhood innocence. But that was all to change. I didn't know why but the thought of being in the same bed, so intimately close to Lotte was both comforting and in a way I didn't then understand, exciting.
The second thing was the scandal caused by the sudden dismissal and departure of Caitlyn, an Irish servant girl who suddenly began to show a bump under her apron. We heard the whispered condemnations all around the house. Quiet conversations ended suddenly as we approached. An early morning trip to the station with her bags. We never saw her again and I often wonder what became of that poor girl, pregnant and alone in a Catholic country. The household professed shock, but it wasn't a surprise to Lotte and me. We knew why a baby was growing in her belly and who had caused it.
It was the suddenly suppressed giggle that drew us to the linen room one Saturday morning a few months earlier. We were roaming the basement, a part of the house we were not supposed to visit, when we heard it. Lotte put her finger to her lips and motioned me to follow. We crept toward the half-open door from where strange rustling noises issued. Through the crack in the door we saw them. Caitlyn and a young man we knew as John, the milkman's son. She was half sitting with her bottom on a long, low table with her legs apart, her skirts pulled up to her knees and her upper clothing around her waist. Her large breasts were being fondled enthusiastically by the young man standing between between her spread legs and it was evident that she was enjoying the experience as much as the young man. As we watched he kissed her full on the lips and then lifted one of her breasts to his mouth and suckled her large brown nipple. I was transfixed. Only afterwards did I realise that what excited me wasn't the thought of having a young man suckling my nipple but of what it would feel like to be that young man fondling and sucking on those fulsome breasts. I glanced at Lotte; she too was entranced by the sight of these two lovers at play.
What happened next was one of those things one never forgets. As clearly as if it happened yesterday I can see Caitlyn unbuckling his belt, reaching into his trousers and lifting his erect penis out of his underwear. With a smile she lay back on the table, lifted her legs up and exposed herself to his erect penis, inviting him. For long, tense erotic seconds the dark bush of pubic hair and her open vagina glistening with expectation was clearly visible to us. I suppressed a little moan and found my hand between my own thighs where a sudden and unexpected wetness had made itself felt. Lotte looked at me at first with shared amazement at what we were witnessing and then with that strange intensity I later came to know as lust. Caitlyn's young man stepped into her breach and was suddenly pushing himself against her, into her. His trousers fell around his knees exposing his young backside, all tensing muscle and powerful thrusting, but it was on Caitlyn's breasts that my eyes lingered. They were full and firm and standing proud as they bounced in time to the young man's ministrations. I was mesmerised and found myself squeezing myself between my legs through my dress. I noticed that Lotte was unconsciously caressing her own breast and that too added to my excitement.
The thrusting continued for some minutes. He held her hips while he drove his penis hard into her; she was now fondling her own breasts much as Lotte was doing. During those minutes my underwear became very wet indeed - I could feel a trickle down my inner thigh - and Lotte caressed both her breasts at the same time. It all ended in a frantic rush with Caitlyn's legs and bottom drumming on the table and her young man grunting like a pig. At the end Caitlyn grabbed a pillow case from the table to stifle her cries of ecstasy. The young man collapsed on top of her and they lay there panting.
We sensed it was over and crept quietly away to our room on the second floor. It was some time before either of us spoke. I suddenly giggled and Lotte soon joined in. It wasn't that we found anything funny but that we needed laughter to release the tension. Later when we'd calmed down a bit we discussed the secret intimacy we had observed so closely..
Only much later did we both realise that all we talked about then was Caitlyn and her body. Slowly we admitted to each other that looking at Caitlyn's nubile body had made us feel funny. 'Funny' turned to 'excited' and with 'excited' realisation dawned and our innocence evaporated forever. Knowledge and expectation hung in the air between us; we both knew the other had been sexually excited by watching Caitlyn's body; there was a pause filled with a palpable sexual tension. Something had to happen, we both knew, but we didn't know what. I can't say now who made the first move, maybe we both did if that makes sense, but suddenly I was kneeling on the floor next to Lotte tentatively touching her breasts. At the same time she kissed me passionately on the lips. It seemed like ages as we kissed and fondled each other. I became wetter still, something that happens even now, 50 years later, when she kisses me.
It's amazing when I think back, that nothing else happened for weeks. Yes, we kissed and touched each other's breasts several times a day becoming more confident with out new-found play as time passed, but it must have been nearly a month later that Lotte slipped my dress from my shoulders and exposed my breasts. As she caressed them I fumbled with her dress and then we were both naked to the waist. More kissing and fondling ensued as we enjoyed the feeling of our nude breasts against each other. It was a few days before either of us had enough courage to actually kiss the other's breasts. I know it seems crazy now but we were so innocent and what we were doing was so stimulating and enjoyable it didn't occur to us to rush to the next stage. I'd taken to putting a special pad of soft material between my legs to soak up the wetness she produced in me, but it also felt nice to have something to squeeze while we kissed.
It occurred to me one day that things would be easier if we didn't wear so many clothes during our kissing and touching sessions which so far had always taken place during daytime. That night when the house was quiet and my parents were away I crept into Lotte's room. She sat up in bed, swung her legs so she was sitting and held her hands out for me to enter her warm embrace. I knelt between her legs feeling the warmth of her thighs around my waist. Automatically we pushed each other's nightdresses down to expose our beasts. Mine fell to my waist and then as Lotte opened her legs wider it slipped to the floor. I giggled as I knelt there naked in front of her for the first time.
'Now you' I whispered between kisses. She lifted her bottom and I helped her pull her night dress down so she was naked too. Now our kisses became more passionate than ever. We rubbed our bodies against each other, breast to breast, nipple to hard nipple and now something different. I could feel the soft, warm wetness between her legs against my tummy. It was incredibly stimulating and my own juices soaked my inner thighs. She was squeezing her legs round my waist and rubbing herself against me. I really didn't know what to do next but Lotte solved that problem. To break the almost intolerable sexual tension between us she threw herself back on the bed and giggled “I'm Caitlyn.”
I giggled too and said in a deep voice “I'm John.” and then I was pretending to do what John had done to Caitlyn, thrusting my groin against her wetness, against her soft pubic mound. The giggling stopped as we both realised we'd crossed another threshold into a new world of love and pleasure. A world with no boundaries, physical or mental. We had no idea what the limits of this new world would be back then but we knew we were going to explore it. That exploration is still taking place.
The woman/child I was then lifted herself up so her pubic mound rubbed directly on her sister's vagina and started moving it around, thrusting, stimulating... Lotte began to moan like she had never done before. Her breathing became short and now her body was reacting to mine, pushing and rubbing against my mound. l felt her hands between her legs and then a softer, wetter feeling as she parted her labia and exposed what I now know is her clitoris. The rubbing began again with renewed urgency and before long she delighted and surprised us both with her first orgasm. It was contained, subtle, but deeply satisfying for both of us. When it was over she pulled me on top of her wrapped her legs round me and kissed me with the deepest and most sincere passion.
“Lizzy, I love you.” she said simply. I luxuriated in her warmth.
“I want to stay like this forever.” I replied. I had never been happier. She moved her body against mine caressing my mouth with hers, my breasts with hers and the mound between my legs. This exquisite kiss went on for ages. When she sensed I was becoming very much aroused she whispered “Your turn now.” and lay me gently on my back, lifting my knees and parting my thighs to expose my vagina. She knelt between my legs and as she moved up over me, intending to kiss me, one of her breasts brushed my vagina and a nipple flicked over a particularly sensitive spot just above my wetness. I jumped and automatically opened my legs further. Lotte was never one to miss an opportunity. She smiled at me lying beneath her then rocked backwards and forward caressing my vagina and what I know know is my clitoris with her firm breasts and erect nipples. To say I was in heaven just doesn't describe it. My mind floated off to some other place, a whole universe that shrank to Lotte and me, naked on the bed, and then further still to two warm breasts and one extremely aroused vagina being stimulated beyond belief. Feelings more intense and passionate than any before were arising deep between my legs and in my breasts. I thought I would die if this didn't stop. I moaned and cried aloud as the feelings rose up and up, and then higher still until they burst into a climax of pleasure and pain, the 'little death' that released me from my sexual bondage only to find me captive in Lotte's arms as she kissed and stroked me, reassuring me all was well. After a few minutes I asked what had happened.
“I don't know what it's called”she said, “but it was just the best feeling. I wanted... I don't know what... I just wanted you.”
I kissed her gently and nodded agreement. Snuggling closer to my naked sister, I whispered “Lotte, I love you.” There was nothing else to say really.
And that was where the bitter, humourless and small-minded woman we knew as governess, found us the following morning. That morning when all hell broke loose, our innocence ended and our family was sundered forever.
Chapter 2. Yorkshire, 1931.
It was my birthday but ostensibly it was the same as any other day. I washed in the cold water, shivering in the dawn chill. Outside the wind howled over the high empty moorland, bleak under a heavy sky. I pulled on the thick black stockings, slipped into the course grey underskirt and white top-skirt. My hair I hid under the beret-like cap and put on the black shoes I'd polished the night before. I waited by the door for the the voice that would let me and all the other girls at St Agnes know it was time to leave their rooms. We were not allowed to leave our rooms without permission and were heavily supervised during the day. It was an absolute rule that two girls were never to be alone in the same room. Why this was so, was never clearly spelled out, but we all knew why. It was to prevent 'moral delinquency' as it was referred to in the school's literature. St. Agnes specialised in taking 'problem girls'. Over the last few years I'd found out this normally meant sexual behaviour - behaviour society, or the parents who sent their children there, did not approve of.
It was difficult to find out why many of my fellows where there. The regime was calculated to make us feel guilty and to atone for our past sins and to become morally 'normal'. A few of us were confident enough to overcome this hurdle, although I will admit it took me a year of self doubt to realise there was nothing wrong with me and this place was a monstrous institution designed to hide and squash the problem rather than to assist it's pupils in any way . In the end it was Lotte's love for me and my love for her that brought me though the crisis. Love that endured our enforced separation that had now lasted seven years. There were some sad cases there. One girl I knew was found in bed with a servant's son who was 13 at the time. Another girl who burned with anger was seduced by her father and then sent away by him for the 'sin' of becoming pregnant with his child. Two others I knew had been having regular sex with an uncle or a cousin and didn't see what the problem was. “They all do it in our village,” one said to me.
One girl of seventeen, Lucille, told me straight out that she liked to 'fuck' her three brothers. Listening to Lucille was a window into another world, a world of more basic values and fouler language, but her heart was big and she was friendly. That was the first time I heard the word 'fuck'. She couldn't wait to turn 21 so she could leave this place and resume their relationships. She also told me that her brothers would be 'OK for sex' while she was away because they 'sucked each other's cocks' and 'fucked' each other 'up the bum' and that was the first time I was aware of male homosexual love. Then she giggled and wiggled her bottom, “and they fuck my arse too” she said and regaled us with a description of how sexy it was having one of her brothers “fucking my cunt, the other up my arse and the third with his big cock in my mouth and squeezing my tits, all coming at the same time and me having the best orgasm ever.” I felt quite elated. St Agnes would never beat the joy of incestuous sex out of her and it wouldn't out of me either.
My best friend, as much as one could have a close friend in such a prison, was a quiet girl called Mary who like me was a 'lesbian'. The object of her desire was the daughter of the local vicar. She'd been caught naked, bottom in the air, with her tongue buried deep in her lover's vagina by the girl's father alerted when he heard strange cries coming from a barn. At first he'd seemed to be understanding, but later in a private interview he'd given Mary a choice. Bend over and spread her cheeks so he could lubricate her anus and bugger her whenever he wanted or be sent away.
Mary and I were definitely attracted to each other. I suppose we were both feeling very unloved and at the same time sexually frustrated. A year before, after we had made our feelings known to each other, we stole a quick lusty kiss and a brief but satisfying squeeze of firm breasts while passing in a corridor. Those few seconds made us determined to find a way to have more, even if it was only to snub our noses at St. Agnes and her draconian staff.
I was lying on my bed one evening after light's out gently caressing my wetness thinking of how we could arrange it. We both needed to be able to disappear for at least an hour without arousing suspicion. My mind roamed around the building looking for places to meet in private, openings and ways to other openings. Then I had it – the laundry room at the school had a huge storage room attached which was only used on Mondays to hold the fresh linen from the wash. Now we had to find a way to get there together. What was near the laundry? The toilets and the sick room were on the same floor and the library was above it. Yes! I had it. Mary would report sick and be in the sick room for a day with 'stomach cramps' and I'd disappear behind the book stacks, open a window and lower myself down to the ground. Mary would go to the laundry room and open a window and we'd have at least an hour together. The one flaw in my plan was how to lower myself down. I'd need a sheet and someone to pull it up so it wouldn't be seen. We could easily get back to the sick room and library pretending we were returning from a toilet break. Lucille who liked her brothers cocks and hated St. Agnes was the obvious choice. I asked her to help one morning over breakfast. “Cor! You randy cow!” she said. “Of course I bloody well will.”
The plan worked beautifully. Mary opened the window and I climbed in. She had already prepared a big soft bed by arranging the laundry bags. As she stepped back from the window she lifted her hospital gown over her head and stood there naked and beautiful. She had nice round breasts and a soft dark patch of pubic hair nestling between her thighs. Soon her hands were pulling my clothes off and we were kissing. I found myself on my back, legs wide apart, knees bent so my vagina was exposed to Mary's appreciative gaze. She stroked my breasts and vagina telling me how sexy I was and how much she wanted to 'fuck' me. Her use of that word excited me and I pulled her towards me not really sure what would happen, but Mary was an expert. She buried her head between my legs and I gasped with pleasure as she kissed my vagina and started licking round my hole and over my clitoris. I hadn't realised how desperately I had needed this and Mary's confident movements quickly drove me to building waves of orgasmic pleasure and I came almost immediately, stifling my cries with my hand.
“Christ you were ready weren't you?” she said while she climbed confidently over me, straddled my face with her legs in a head to toe position and settled her vagina over my face. I needed no further invitation than the delicate perfume of her arousal and the wetness forming between her cute labia. I reached up, put my hands on her bottom cheeks and pulled her hungrily towards me. Her warmth and aromatic musk invaded my senses. Instinctively I sought out her little bud and sucked into my mouth and then released it to lick around her vagina and back to her bud. Mary gasped and started a little shuddering response to my tongue which rapidly became spasms and bigger thrusts until after less than a minute she had her first orgasm. When she had recovered she planted a big kiss between my legs and I returned the favour. “Christ!” she said again, “I was ready too!”
We lay like that for ages each kissing, licking, sucking and penetrating the other's vagina with our tongues while sucking gently on our clitoris' and playing with each other's bottom cheeks. We both had two more orgasms and we still had more than half an hour of playtime left.
Mary eased herself off me and looked at me with a satisfied but naughty look. My vaginal juices made her face glow in the dim light. Then she plumped up a laundry bag and pulled me so I was laying over it. I felt very exposed with my bottom up in the air and my vagina and anus open for her to see. The first thing I felt was the gentle caress of her firm breasts on my bottom. Her stiff nipples teased my skin and then she worked them into the valley between my cheeks and teased my vagina and anus. I squeezed and clamped my cheeks together but she gave me a gentle slap on the behind and told me to relax and open my legs further apart. Once I got use to this invasion of my most taboo place I started to enjoy the feeling of being touched there. The bed rustled as Mary changed position and I suddenly let out a cry of surprise as her tongue licked all the way from my clitoris, into my vagina, up over my anus then circled my little star before she pushed it inside. I gasped and my body betrayed the fact that I really enjoyed having my anus licked and penetrated and was sexually excited by it. Then I felt fingers enter my vagina and more fingers start to rub my little pleasure bud. Despite the fact that I'd already come several times the waves built to a climactic release and I came again more strongly than ever before. The multiple stimulation of clitoris, vagina and anus overwhelmed me and I collapsed in a ragged heap. Mary giggled and lay beside me kissing and stroking me until it was time to get dressed and sneak back upstairs.
Three more times that year we managed to pull the same stunt. The last time we were nearly caught, in fact we were caught but our discoverer was a young woman who worked in the laundry. She came out of the shadows after we'd had our first head to toe licking and coming session. As we jumped up grabbing our clothes to cover our nudity she said in an urgent whisper, “No you don't understand. I'm not.... I'm only a laundry girl, my name's Emily, I didn't mean to....” and then she shrugged. “I wanted to....” and she surprised us by unbuttoning her dress and letting it fall to the floor. He was naked underneath. Her young body perfect, small and delicate, barely a woman, but she had fine small breasts, firm and proud little nipples and a golden down of pubic hair set against girlish hips. Mary took charge. She quickly crossed to the girl and cradled her in her arms, pressing her head against her breasts and telling her it was fine and we understood her needs and it wasn't wrong. The girl cried tears of relief as we explained we were 'lesbians', girls who loved other girls and who enjoyed the taboo secrets of female intercourse. We explained that this was perfectly natural but society just didn't understand that yet. After a while she calmed down. Thanking us, she explained she felt better about her feelings for other girls now. With our encouragement she told us how she had fallen for a slightly older woman who also worked in the laundry, but that she could never approach her.
She also told us that she suspected that someone was using the laundry store for meetings as the bags had been moved. She had tidied up afterwards and watched everyday for someone to come. She'd hidden when she heard us enter and had watched us undress and have our first orgasm. Then she just had to let us know she was excited by what she'd seen and the wetness between her legs. We thanked her and began to kiss her and stroke her. She relaxed and soon was purring contentedly as Mary caressed her inner thighs and I stroked her breasts and kissed her sweet mouth. Slowly we moved to more intimate caresses at first with fingers and then with probing tongues. Mary's tongue in her vagina and mine in her mouth. We swapped round so I could taste the freshness of her young vagina as well and it wasn't long before Emily started to cry out and shake as Mary and I filled her with love and lust and lifted her to a pitch of pleasure she can hardly have anticipated. Her first lesbian orgasm broke over her small world in a series of spasms that left her weak and whimpering. So she too was changed from a child to a woman, as I had been.
A few more months had passed. Mary, Emily and I had managed one more tryst when we lay in a circle, one tongue to one vagina, one pair of hands exploring one bottom and anus. We all had orgasms simultaneously. I discovered that licking a musky vagina while having mine licked was just heavenly and that I liked my bottom and anus to be played with during sex.
So here I am back up to date again. As I said it was my birthday. I was 21, the legal age of majority in 1931. As I stood for the last time in that room waiting for the voice to give permission to leave I felt a feeling of peace creep over me. In an hour I'd be out of this prison and on my way to find Lotte who'd left a similar institution about 11 months earlier.
The formalities ended with a pep talk from the chief dragon who said she hoped I'd learned the values society expected of a young woman and that she prayed for my soul that there would be no more 'sinful lapses'. I said nothing, trying hard to keep the contempt and smirk from my face. Eventually I managed “Yes miss I'll watch for more lapses.” and then I was free to go.
Lotte met me outside the gates. We stood in full view of the school and kissed deeply and passionately. Then we went to a nearby hotel to resume our broken relationship. There were tears of joy and of ecstasy. Laughter and truth, love and forgiveness and lots of orgasms. We had both learned more of how to please each other while we had been separated and we'd both found other people to love. Not love instead of each other, nothing can ever come between us, but love in addition, inclusive love that enhances the relationship.
A few months later on Mary's 21st birthday, Lotte and I and a young woman called Stephanie marched into the office of the chief dragon and demanded she call Mary immediately. When she refused we marched down the corridor to Mary's room, threw open the door and watched with pleasure the surprise and shock as she registered who her visitors where. Stephanie flew past us and into Mary's arms while Lotte and I stood smiling.
It had taken a few weeks of searching and then a little gentle blackmail to extract Stephanie from the vicarage. I still remember the look on the vicar's face as two attractive young ladies walked uninvited into his house, questioned his liking for sodomy and asked whether it was just girls or did he like to bugger boys too? As first he blustered and threatened to call the police. Lotte picked up the telephone and handed it to him, inviting him to go ahead. He considered his options and eventually replaced the receiver in it's cradle. “What do you want?” he asked defeatedly. We dictated our terms. Stephanie was released to our care with a yearly allowance. He resigned his post and agreed to stop his extra-curricular activities on pain of us notifying the local newspapers of his predatory sexual preferences. It wasn't all heartless though. We gave him an introduction to a private club in London where we had been told he could meet men who would enjoy the kind of sexual intercourse he preferred.
Mary and Stephanie were giggling and kissing and laughing all at the same time as we packed her few things and started to leave. Chief dragon stood firmly in our way, red faced and angry. She threatened punishment, the law and divine retribution. Lotte will always be my heroine for the speech that dismantled that women. We watched her crumble as Lotte's cool anger speared her moral certainty with our new reality, with how her school would be defunct within two years, with how her world was dying and a new age of sexual freedom and tolerance was on it's way. Yes, she was a bit ahead of her time with this last point but it was effective nonetheless.
Just to add spice to the mix we all marched down to the laundry and offered Emily a home and job. She laughed and asked if we meant it. I kissed her on the lips and nodded. She threw off her apron and under the impotent, furious gaze of the dragon walked out with us, head held high.
Once out of sight of the school we collapsed in tears and giggles as the tension snapped. We were helpless for a few moments until we regained control and Lotte ushered us to the station.
Chapter 3. London, 1981.
It doesn't seem like 50 years have passed and yet in some ways it does. We are old ladies now. The world has moved on again and caught us up in more ways than one. We still orbit the large house we bought with Lotte's first big pay cheque, the one from her first film as lead actress, an industry more tolerant of homosexuality than most. We all found jobs in and around the area and lived together supporting each other and caring for each other.
We swapped beds pretty often but there were many times when we all slept in what we call the playroom – a large airy room at the top of the house with a floor covered in mattresses, pillows and duvets. Sometimes you weren't quite sure whose tongue or fingers were in your vagina or your bottom, or whose mouth was suckling your nipples as you writhed in pleasure. I was nearly always sure whose delicate, fragrant pussy was the current recipient of my tongue because they all tasted so different, their musky aromas quite distinctive. Birthday's were best when the birthday girl was surrounded by all the others and kissed, licked and suckled to multiple orgasms before she was allowed to open her presents.
The war came and went leaving a rubble-strewn shell of a city but a new-found desire for social change. After the war the old moral taboos came tumbling down. Left-wing governments were elected. The Empire crumbled. Censorship took a mortal blow at the Oz trial and homosexuality was made legal between consenting adults. Gradually we were able to be ourselves in public, holding hands and kissing when we felt like it.
There was a sticky patch in the 70's when the hard-line, feminist lesbian Gestapo tried to enforce their anti-male ideas on the lesbian community, but like all extreme political and social movements they were left behind as the world moved on taking a few small changes with it.
New girls joined our little community and some left, but the core group remains. Every now and then a younger woman is invited to the playroom and we still enjoy the wonderful sex we always have, teaching her that pleasure doesn't stop when you get to 40, 50 or 60 it actually gets better and that love endures.
Lotte is sitting beside me as I come to the end of this memoir. She's stroking my head and shoulders which ache now from the typing. There now Lotte my love I've finished our little story. It was all a long time ago and now it's time for us to have our hour in bed, a little gentle kissing, a nice little orgasm as the sun goes down and then a short sleep. Afterwards; dinner with the others, laughter and love shared as the lights fade.
Love endures. Love endures.
(Author's Note: The minor character 'Lucille' in this story came to life in a story of her own: Lucille.)
- Wow. An amazing combination of romance, sex, and history. I believe it. I WANT to believe it. Just lovely.
- My sister my lesbian love, good story well written. So far I've read three stories and for some reason I get the feeling you are a female author by how explicity you describe the feelings of an orgasm. How will I know if you have read my comments??? (Author: I read all comments. Thank you for your's.
- Very good story, lesbian stuff as well. It should be MY sister, MY lesbian love. :)
- A lovely erotic story, gave me a warm feeling whilst reading it.