Hi, my name is Nerida Lawson and this is the story of how I lost my innocence. But first let me tell you a little about myself. I am an Australian now living off the coast of Washington State on an island near Dark Harbor. This is perfect for me as it is only a few hours to Seattle and my agent but isolated enough that I can do my art work uninterrupted. I am an illustrator for books, mostly children's stories. Well established enough in my field to be able to support myself, I am able to live here without taking on a second job.
Of course it doesn't hurt that I have an inheritance from my parents who passed away a few years ago in a car accident. This money allowed me to buy my home and artist's studio and a few acres on this beautiful island I now call home. Of course I would rather have my parents. I came here two summers back when a writer invited me to visit. I had been in touch with her concerning her story which I was contracted to illustrate. The author, Gwen, was writing a story about a young native girl and it was set in the area. She suggested I should come visit the island and get a feel for the local natives and their work. When she found out that I would be spending my 34th birthday alone after losing my parents some months ago, she insisted I spend my birthday with her on her property on Hawk Island.
I thought the change of scenery might help me pass the first birthday without my parents a little easier, so I agreed and organized my flight with my travel agent. My younger sister was busy with her life as a flight attendant and rarely at home much these days and both my older sisters were happily ensconced with their husbands and children, so I felt no bonds to hold me in Australia.
I arranged with my neighbor to have their teenage son look after my mail, garden and pot plants, canceled the milk and paper and set up an electronic system to turn my lights on at odd times. Two days later I was driving my rental car to Dark Harbor where Gwen was meeting me. Hawk Island was like something from a postcard. It isn't a small island and has a population of more than ten thousand. It has a thriving town center where one can purchase most things necessary to live on this idyllic island. I fell in love with the area and the community from the moment our ferry landed.
The more I saw of Hawk Island, over the next few weeks, the more I wanted to live here. By the time I had finished the illustrations for Gwen, I was checking out the local real estate. One week later I was the proud owner of an artist's studio and two bedroom cabin on two acres of heaven. My view is along the coast looking at all the little islands as well as the mainland. On a clear day, Mt Baker looks like it is in my back yard.
Two years later and I am sitting here looking out my windows at this glorious view but not seeing it. My mind won't let me see anything but a vision of loveliness. How can a thirty six year old heterosexual female be even thinking about another woman, but this woman had me mesmerized. It all started so innocently; one minute I was more than happy with my sex life and the opposite sex and then Cleo entered my life and I couldn't think of anyone else.
When I first met Cleo, I thought that she was an attractive young lady and that I would love to paint her. So when she started helping her father, Alf, with my garden I told myself that the fascination I had with her was purely my artist's eye seeing her beauty. She is quite tall, at least five feet 9 inches, and slim but with curves where they are needed. She almost reminds me of a panther with her long shapely limbs and well toned torso. Her long black hair waves down her back which she often pulls back with a scrunchy into a ponytail. Her skin is the color of a burnished copper. Full luscious lips frame the whitest, most perfect smile. Then as you glance further up her face past her aquiline nose, you are completely blown away by the greenest eyes framed by long dark lashes. This is something I have never before seen in an African American.
I found myself spending more time in my garden with my easel and paints. As she bent over the garden beds, my eyes were drawn to the curve of her buttocks in her short shorts. I laughed to myself when I saw the red rose tattoo on her shapely cheek. She often looked up to catch me watching her, and I know I would blush deeply. My creamy skin didn't take much to redden deeply. It almost matched my auburn hair. I'm sure it was like looking at two pools of blue in a sea of red. At least when Cleo saw me watching her, she would smile. So hopefully she wasn't insulted by my sudden case of voyeurism. We chatted often. She is a very intelligent young lady. Just out of college she is doing any work she can find until she is able to get into her passion as a career. Photography is her passion and Cleo has offered to show me some of her work soon. Meanwhile all the characters I am drawing look just like this stunning young woman.
Life continued with my attraction to Cleo still occupying my mind when she came up behind me one day in the orchard. As I stroked my paintbrush across the paper, her voice broke the silent reverie I was in. She had a husky, sensual voice that matched her sleek good looks.
"Nerida, I was wondering if you would like to look at my folio tonight after supper?" she asked.
My rush to say yes even surprised me and I blushed once more.
"How about 7:30ish.?" I stammered.
"That's fine, and would you mind if I bought some of Mom's plum wine?"
I nodded still feeling the redness in my face and quickly turned back to my easel. I heard the leaves rustle as she turned to go back to the gardening. My heart was pounding in my ample bosom. Thoughts of what I must do before tonight rushed through my mind. I would need to go down town and pick up a few things for nibblies. A soak in a scented bath sprung to mind as well. All my clothes raced through my brain as I wondered what I should wear, and then suddenly I realized that I was treating this like a date instead of what it really was.
"Oh well, cheese and crackers and my burgundy lounge suit though the bath can still stay in the picture," I told myself.
Later that afternoon found me lying back in the tub. My large breasts seemed to float in a sea of bubbles. The smell of roses filled the steamy room. The sultry voice of Lena Horne crooning "Stormy Weather" echoed through the cottage. As my toe played with bubbles, I wondered at this new found interest in the same sex. Though I didn't have a steady boyfriend, I did have a full sex life. It had been a couple of weeks since I had invited Jeff to the island. Jeff is a friend who like me isn't looking for a permanent relationship but is great in bed. It was just after Cleo had moved back to the island and I had found myself extremely horny. Jeff had come to my rescue, and we had romped the weekend away, making love in all corners of the cottage. I had worn him out but still felt curiously dissatisfied.
I had never entertained homosexual thoughts. The closest I had come was in high school when Tracy McEwan, my best friend, and I had practiced kissing on each other. But I had graduated to boys soon after and never thought again of other females. That is until now. My fingertips traced circles over my creamy white globes as I visualized Cleo. She has such a strong but lithe figure. Her breasts are pert and not too large like mine. My nipples hardened as my fingers teased and pinched them. I groaned as I felt myself quickening below. One hand slowly moved itself lower, lightly caressing the skin in its path. It reached my patch of curly red hair and parted it to fondle the lips beneath. Parting them, I pushed the hood back that covered my button. Warm water caressed my clit as I tentatively touched it. The touch caused an electric shock to course through my body.
I pressed further and my pearl hardened like a little dick. Rubbing it, my arousal became stronger. My imagination had Cleo doing what my hands were. I pushed my fingers lower to press inside my vagina. It tightened and pulled at my finger. As one hand pulled and pinched at my nipples, I started to masturbate slowly. My thumb rubbing my clit, I pressed my index and middle finger inside searching for my gspot. No matter how I follow instructions in those sex manuals trying to find it, I am never successful. I really do think it's a myth that some women just elaborate on to show off.
Fucking my vagina with my two fingers while my right hand tweaked at my nipples, I felt my peak nearing. My pulse raced and my insides throbbed as it got closer and closer till finally, with the picture of Cleo in my mind, my body ejaculated my juice into my left palm. Trembles went through me and my breath gasped deep in my throat until I finished climaxing. It may have been my Catholic upbringing that made me blush all over at what I had done. I don't mean the masturbating but thinking of a woman while doing it.
I wondered how I would get through the night but was also looking forward to seeing Cleo away from her gardening. Hopping out of the bath, I dried and creamed my body before donning my underwear. Walking into the bedroom, I found my suit in the closet. Taking the slim line pants, I pulled them up my legs and over my hips. The style made my body look slimmer. I wasn't fat but curvy and my height did nothing to help. I was only 5' 4" in my stockinged feet. A cream colored camisole went on top with a shirt top matching the burgundy pants rounding off the ensemble. The outfit was made from silk and felt fabulous against my skin. Returning to the bathroom, I put the brush through my shoulder length curls. A touch of lipstick and I was ready to finish the outfit off with my sandals. I checked myself in the closet mirror and thought that though I would win no beauty contest, I wasn't too hard on the eyes.
I know I should have had something substantial for supper, my stomach couldn't face it. A bowl of fresh fruit salad was the trick, and I was just washing the empty bowl when my door knocker beckoned. I called out to Cleo to come on in as the door wasn't locked and then bent to the cupboard to retrieve two wine glasses. As I picked up the glasses, I looked back at the doorway to see a pair of beautiful green eyes riveted on my behind. I slowly straightened and turned with a smile to greet my visitor properly.
"Here let me take that from you," I told Cleo as I took the heavy carton from her arms and deposited it on the kitchen table.
