I Love Lesbians!

When I heard that our good friend Helen was gay, I was surprised and delighted. Well, not that surprised, on reflection; Helen was a policewoman, and a pretty tough one at that, and it seemed that most of her lady friends and female colleagues were gay. It was only a matter of time before she came out, really. Even so, it was quite an alluring piece of news.

In case you haven't guessed already, I'm one of those blokes who find the concept of lesbian sex incredibly arousing. I'm not sure why it's the case. Perhaps it's simple mathematics: twice the breasts equals twice the fun. Or perhaps it's some old-fashioned taboo titillation – a little bit wrong, but oh so right. Though I can't figure out the precise reason why, I simply cannot deny there's something about the thought of two beautiful young women, hot and naked together, clambering all over each other and getting down-and-dirty that works me into a lather like nothing else. Should I be ashamed? Probably.

But that's by the by. Helen had been best friends with Jill my wife since childhood. When she came out, Helen was on the phone to Jill nearly every night, and Jill helped her cope with the conflict and guilt and all of that, while relaying to me all the juicy lesbian details afterwards. Helen had hooked up with some hot young thing named Elise – she was described to me as slim, blonde, leggy and gorgeous. "Nice work Helen," I had commented at the time, earning a slap and a grin from Jill for my trouble.

"You be good, Michael," she warned me. "Helen wants us to meet Elise. They're coming to town for dinner next Friday night."

"Oh really?" I asked, cocking an intrigued eyebrow that Jill probably tried to ignore. "Are they staying in town? You said Helen wasn't sure if she should tell her parents about Elise..."

"She's still not sure," Jill reported. "Helen's family is a pack of rednecks, they'd never accept her being gay so she doesn't want to tell them. So they're going to stay the night here, at our place."

"Really really?" I asked, that eyebrow cocking itself again.

Jill wasn't going to ignore two consecutive cocked eyebrows, so she punched me again. "Michael: behave," she instructed.

"Ow," I replied.

So I had something to look forward to: a dinner double-date with a lesbian couple. More than a few lecherous fantasies about the course of that evening crossed my sordid little mind. And it turned out that Helen herself would do little to quell my dirty little mind – in fact I suspect her mind may be deeper in the gutter than my own.

One night leading up to the double-date, Jill was on the phone with Helen; I was busy doing the dishes, when Jill called for my attention. "Helen says you and her have lots in common now," she reported. "Now that she has a bossy, demanding, high-maintenance woman for a lover, she knows how you feel."

"Finally!" I cried. "Someone to share my pain!"

Jill flipped me half-a-peace-sign as she relayed my comment to Helen. "She says she might also have a few pointers for you, to help in the bedroom," Jill added, with a ribald wink.

"Oh really?" said I. "Are you saying I need the help?"

"Couldn't hurt," Jill told me, rather viciously I thought. I'm sure she was kidding though – Jill and I had a long, varied and colourful sex-life. She comes for me at the drop of a hat, always has and always will, so I paid her jibes no serious heed.

"Well, I'll take any help I can get from Helen," I said instead, deciding to play along. "A few instructional videos might be useful... no, wait, don't tell her that!" I added, as Jill relayed my pervy little joke to Helen.

"She says to be careful what you wish for – you just might get it!" Jill chuckled.

I stood frozen to the spot, transfixed by the concept: Helen and Elise, buck naked in bed, writhing around together in front of a camera and filming 'instructional videos' for my personal benefit... "Cor..." I muttered to myself. "What if she's not kidding?"

Jill laughed – she had heard me. "Michael says, 'what if she's not kidding?'! How do you like that, Helen?" And I'm sure they both had a merry old laugh at my expense.

And that was how the concept of the 'Camera Bear' eventually came about. Jill relayed various sordid jokes and jibes between Helen and myself, and we somehow came to agreement that Helen herself would help me hide a video camera inside one of Jill's stuffed teddy bears. Then we would hide the Camera Bear in the spare bedroom where Helen and Elise were to spend the night, and then Helen would seduce Elise in front of the camera and make sweet love to her – without Elise knowing, and all for my education. But it was all jokes, of course. We were all mucking around and not a word of it was serious.

...or was it?

There had always been something about Helen that made you think twice when she cracked a joke. For example, before Helen had officially 'come out', she had said on more than one occasion that if given the opportunity she would turn gay for my Jill, straight away and without hesitation. And we'd all smile and laugh at the joke.

But in the back of my mind, as the imagined lesbian affair between Helen and my wife played out, I had thought 'aww, gee, how good would that be...' and I had looked at Helen and seen the same wistful, 'aww gee if only...' sort of look in her eye. No wonder her 'coming out' came as little surprise. And I couldn't blame her: my Jill was a curvaceous bombshell, all tits and hips and arse – who could resist her? No lesbian I know would turn her down, and nor could I or would I ever say no to a steamy offer from our Jill.

So as the highly-anticipated double-date approached, I harboured a secret little hope. Perhaps, with the aid of a few wee drinky-poohs, a few little half-serious jokes might be seized upon and acted out... perhaps I might finally be able to witness a bit of girl-on-girl, or (dare I even say it) girl-on-girl-on-girl action?

Nah. No way. I knew it was a vain hope, too vain even to bother fantasising about. And so I dropped the matter. Just as well I did, because the night before the big dinner-date Jill told me, "Helen mentioned the 'Camera Bear' to Elise."

That intrigued eyebrow of mine cocked itself again – it was forever cocking itself, much like the leg of an incontinent dog, I'm sure. "Helen mentioned the 'Camera Bear'?" I repeated. "And what did sweet young Elise say to that?"

"Helen says Elise nearly died!" Jill smirked. "She went white as a ghost! Elise said if she sees a teddy-bear in our spare room she's gunna have to tear its head off and search its innards for electronics before she can get any sleep!"

"Ha ha," I said, with a slightly chagrined smile. "Oh well: Helen and I will have to come up with another way to make our secret lesbian-romp movies. 'Camera Lamp', perhaps? Or 'Antique Camera Vase'?"

"Settle down, Michael," Jill instructed, her tone taking a serious turn. 'Here comes a lecture,' thought I.

"Now you know I don't mind all this pervy, half-serious joking around about your lesbian fetish," Jill began. "And though Helen's putting on a brave face and cracking all these jokes with us, she's actually really fragile about the whole thing – she's really conflicted about all of it, she had such a homophobic upbringing and now that she's finally recognised that she's gay, it's really tearing her apart." Jill sighed. "Just be good tomorrow night, okay hun?"

"Okay dear," I assured her. "I'll be a very good boy. I promise." Hey, it's not like I'm a total arsehole. I know how to behave, when push comes to shove. It's just that most of the time, I'd prefer not to behave.

So Friday night rolled around, and Helen and Elise drove down from the city to meet us at a restaurant for dinner. Helen was right: Elise was a total stunner, blonde and fair and leggy and busty all at once; I wanted to nudge Helen and give her a congratulatory wink, but Jill was watching me like a hawk so I didn't dare.

The atmosphere was actually a bit strained at first, as we all sat down at our table to study the menu. Elise seemed nervous to meet us, she was a bit shrill and she sounded very eager to please, afraid that we might judge her poorly. And Helen was strangely quiet; I realised that she really was a conflicted soul.

Helen knew us, she had known me for a few years and Jill most her life, and she knew she could trust us. But even so, it was obvious she half-expected us to deride her for a dirty fucking homo and shun her forever. I knew now that all of her joking around and bravado over the phone was actually a front, a brave face to hide her fear of rejection. I suddenly felt a bit bad about the sleazy fantasies I had been harbouring, the drooling expectation that perhaps I might witness a bit of lesbian sex that night. 'I really am an arsehole,' I thought.

So I wanted to lighten the mood, to help them feel more at ease. Jill and I were good friends to Helen, and we had no objections to homosexuality: not Helen's, not Elise's, nor anybody's. I think Jill wanted to make things easier too, because she beat me to the first word: "Well, we've got your bedroom all set up and ready for you..." she told them. I looked to Jill, and I saw the shadow of a smile about the corners of her mouth, and I knew she was setting me up for a joke.

"That's right!" I affirmed. "I'm sure you guys will feel right-at-home. We've got all the warm welcoming touches in there: soft comfy bed... dim romantic lighting... the odd teddy-bear or two..."

Elise's eyes went wide. "Teddy-bears?" she squeaked.

"Oh yeah," I nodded, quite seriously. "What's a bedroom without a teddy-bear or two... placed at various artistic angles, of course," I couldn't help but add.

"Now Michael," said Helen, with a warning tone. My heart fell, but then she said, "I hope those bears have fully-charged batteries and fresh film..." She sounded quite stern and serious, but she was clearly getting in on the joke, so I brightened.

"Welcome to the digital age, Helen!" said I. "Our bears have thirty-gig hard drives and eight hours' continuous recording time. Only the latest and the best in our house," I assured Elise, who was paralysed with shock at our frank tones.

"What – only eight hours?" frowned Helen. "We'll only just be hitting our stride at the eight-hour-mark. Eh babe?" she asked of Elise, with a cheeky nudge.

"You guys!!" Elise squealed – but it was a squeal of delight and amusement. And so the ice was broken, everyone relaxed and we started to enjoy ourselves.

It turned out to be a great night, full of laughter and cheer. Like all good Aussie coppers, Helen was a famously heavy drinker and I strived valiantly to keep up with her. Our efforts were initially much to the combined disapproval of both Jill and Elise; but Helen and I rallied together against our oppressors, and sneered jokingly at their joking disapproval, and the booze flowed more freely and the girls soon matched our state of dishevelled merriment.

We all had a great old time. Helen and I spoke loudly of the woes of being heavily under-the-thumb and the sorrows of the dreaded ball-and-chain affliction, while Jill and Elise commiserated with each other on having to put up with such boofy bullshit. It was great! Joking and drinking with Helen was as fun and easy as joking and drinking with any of the guys, and it was only her generous bust and soft feminine features that kept me from cracking her on the chin or rousting about in an overly manly fashion.

Eventually we found ourselves back home, and the ladies had retired to the balcony for more wine and the odd cigarette. I excused myself for a journey to the bathroom, and on the way I passed by the spare bedroom, where Helen and Elise were to spend the night. "Oho..." said I, in my inebriated state, as an idea formed.

It wasn't a terribly clever or crafty idea, but I carried it out anyway. I fetched a teddy-bear from the main bedroom – not one of Jill's most favourite bears, just in case Elise actually did behead the thing – and I placed it innocently enough on top of the dresser in the spare room where Helen and Elise were to kip for the night. And as a heavy-handed cherry on top of the joke: I fetched my digital camcorder, and placed it non-too-subtly in the lap of the bear, the lens cap off and aimed not-subtly-at-all towards the bed. "Hur hur," I slurred, having amused myself greatly – and off I stumbled towards the bathroom.

Having completed my transaction I moseyed back to the balcony, pausing only to grab a fresh box of wine – tres classy, non? – and rejoining the boisterous fray, forgetting my little Camera Bear joke entirely. We made merriment well into the wee hours, retiring only when our voices grew horse and the neighbour's entreaties became especially nasty.

Jill and I bade the lady lovers goodnight and retreated to our own bedroom. Hardly had the door closed when Jill pinned me into a corner, her breathing hot and heavy as she lavished drunken smooches upon me. "Thank you for being so good to Helen tonight," she whispered as she made short work of my buttons. "You were so understanding and accepting – thank you so much for being so good..."

As she defeated the buttons of my shirt and her kisses started heading south, I remembered the Camera Bear with a guilty start. But it was too late to do anything about it now – Jill was down on her knees and had my pants half-undone, and I was loathe to do or say anything to sway her from her goal.

"No worries, love," I told her, running my fingers tenderly through her hair. "Helen's a top chick, always has been. I'll always be there to stand by you, and I'll also stand by any of your frie-heh-heh-hends..." I finished, stuttering and trailing off into blissful silence as deep-throated Jill swallowed my cock whole. Sweet mercy, how I love it when Jill gets drunk and slutty.

I stood braced against the wall, shirt thrust open and pants round my ankles, a hand gently guiding Jill's head as she sucked and slurped up and down the length of my cock. She sometimes gets this way after a bout of heavy drinking: cock-hungry, hot and heavy, and I loved to reap the benefits. But as she worked up and down my length, running her hands up and down the backs of my thighs and copping the odd squeeze of my shapely buns, I detected an added urgency, an additional edge to her horniness. What had gotten into her tonight?

She didn't stay down there too long, rising to her feet and latching on for a new series of kisses, her mouth tasting slightly of the warm meatiness of my own cock. I stepped out of my pants and guided her gently backwards, towards our bed, hurriedly tearing off her clothes in the process.

I wasn't sure exactly why she was so hot-to-trot, but I knew exactly why I was on the horn: I had images of hot horny lesbians flashing behind my eyes and they were driving me crazy. Back on the balcony, as the night had progressed and drinks had been consumed, Helen and Elise – initially bashful and stand-offish, keeping a slight distance between themselves – had grown more comfortable and accustomed to our presence as we all sat on the balcony, eventually putting on a bit of a show.

It had started off with a simple holding-of-hands, Helen taking Elise's hand into her own as they sat together. And as I removed Jill's clothes later on in the bedroom, I thought back to Helen and Elise as they grew warmer and bolder in front of me and Jill as we all talked of this-and-that: Helen throwing a possessive arm about young Elise; Elise leaning into Helen's embracing cuddle, nestling closer in against Helen's generous boobs; Helen moving her arm down to wrap about Elise's hips, a hand running up and down her thigh; Helen's hand growing more adventurous, and though I tried not to watch too obviously, I couldn't help but notice out of the corner of my eye as Helen's fingers trailed subtly up and down Elise's inner thigh, tucking slightly under the hem of Elise's short skirt, and as she did so I noticed Elise's chest heaving more noticeably as her own arousal increased. And of course, I had to sit cross-legged across from them, in an attempt to conceal my own growing arousal, yammering on about crap as though nothing was happening.

At one point – just before we had all hit the bedrooms, in fact – Jill had popped off to the bathroom. Once she was gone, Elise looked up to catch Helen's eye, and plain and easy, as natural as day, they kissed.

It was a very tender, gentle kiss: Helen cupped a possessive hand over Elise's cheek, her fingers splayed to tuck around Elise's gentle, feminine jawline before moving up to run through her long, flowing blonde hair. Their embrace grew warmer as they shuffled to be closer together, pressing their bodies against each other: breast against breast, girl against girl, and how my cock did strain against my pants as I simply sat there, drinking it all in.

Then they looked up, and looked at me, and I realised I was gawking like a fool. "Sorry," I mumbled, fidgeting in my seat in an attempt to rearrange my pants. "I shouldn't be staring..."

"We don't really mind," Elise purred.

"Yeah, it's fine," drawled Helen, sounding every inch like an Aussie copper happy to ignore some minor transgression. "We understand – it's pretty hot stuff, eh? I hope you've got the Camera Bear all set up..." she added, with a smile and a wink.

I had to laugh at what I could only assume was a joke. "The bear is ready to roll!" I assured them – every word of it the truth, I had realised.

They grinned at me, and then they got back into their embrace. Heaven knows how much more I might have seen, had Jill not chosen that moment to reappear. She stood at the doorway for a moment, mouth open with surprise as she took the scene in – and then she cleared her throat loudly. "Time for bed, I think," she suggested, with a meaningful look for me.

"I was just about to suggest the same thing," said Elise, as she and Helen broke off their embrace with a smile for me.

"Righto then. See you in the morning!" cried Jill, grabbing my hand and dragging me off at a half-run – quick enough, I hoped, that Helen and Elise couldn't quite catch a glimpse of the enormous bulge in my pants.

And that's how Jill and I came to find ourselves alone in our bedroom, utterly naked and all over each other, and I began to wonder. Could it be... Could it be that Jill's excitement, like my own, was inspired by the sight of two women getting hot and heavy? I knew watching Helen and Elise had turned me right on, but Jill had taken it in for all of three seconds, and then she was dragging me off, stripping me down and gobbling up my cock before I'd even had time to suggest it.

And we had moved on already. I now had my wife stripped totally naked – just how I like her! And she still had it: she wasn't the slim-and-scrawny type that the media loves, she was of the curvy-and-buxom type with hips you could get a good hold of, a gorgeous rump you could serve up for dinner and a lovely set of D-cups you could simply smother yourself with. If ever the world became too much, I'll have Jill get her guns out and suffocate me, and I'll shuffle off this mortal coil with an enormous grin on my face.

I threw her back on the bed and I leapt aboard, crawling up her length, laying kisses about her toes and ankles, up her shapely calves, peppering the length of her tender inner thighs – she spread her legs nice and wide for me, giving unfettered access – and then I placed one simple, tender, lingering kiss upon her waiting snatch, lips spread wide, her hot pinkness glistening and wet from her excitement. My gently-probing tongue set her a-quiver from top to toe; I grinned, and made to move upwards, but then I felt two hands firmly at the top of my head, pressing me down again.

"Eat me," she instructed.

"All in good time, my dear," I averred, straining valiantly against her surprising strength as I tried to rise above her tasty snatch.