Rite of Passage

2000: At University

Leonora - studying English

Glenda - music student, pianist and violinist

Christine - Medical student

Victoria - studying Politics and Economics (That's me)

Hazel - Mature student fine art

Freshers' Week. At last, I'm free, away from boarding school-prison and home. I can finally be me. Freshers' Week is a chance to dive straight into University life. You can go to dances, parties, societies and the Union bar. It's often a drink and drug fuelled week but for me I was already high on the freedom.

I went to the Lesbian Society's meet and greet. There must have been about forty people, with the organisers wearing sashes saying things like 'Secretary' and 'Treasurer.' The 'Chair' was a short, stout butch who circulated saying hello to everyone and encouraging us to grab a drink. Warm white wine and red that tasted like vinegar, and potato crisps and peanuts didn't seem too sophisticated to me but, hey, I was looking forward to the hook ups and lesbian literature and whatever else they could think of.

We were invited to sit and the 'Chair' addressed us all. "This," she said, "is a safe place to be queer, a safe place to be feminist, to be women who love women." Great, I thought, but I'm already all of those things. I want to get laid for the fist time in my life. I want to get to orgasm at another's hands (or whatever) rather than my own. "It's not a dating society, it's a serious political movement." What the fuck? "Our mission is to ensure that lesbians are fully integrated into the fabric of the University, to have influence and access."

I made a pretence of going to the toilet and that was me, out of there. Fortunately, the loo was outside the double doors that gave access to the meeting room so, leather satchel-strap across my chest, I popped into the loo, had a quick piss and left.

"You didn't last long."

She was a few inches taller than I, torn jeans, a denim shirt, trainers. Her hair was long and black and her eyes smiled. She was good to look at.

"If I"d wanted to join a political movement, I'd have found one."

She smiled. "Yeah, me too. What did you hope it might be?" I hesitated. "OK, well I'll tell you that what put me off was that she said it wasn't a dating society. I can 'fully integrate' myself, thanks. You always wear long skirts?" I was wearing a white sleeveless and collarless blouse and a long, blue and white dog-tooth skirt.

I laughed. "No, not always. What's your name?"

"Lennie, everyone calls me Lennie."

"Except your Mum, obviously."

"Oh God, she insists on Leonora."

"I can see why. It's pretty. I'm Vic."

"Victoria?" I nodded. "Fancy a drink at the Union? I think I may remember how to find it and if I'd had to drink any more of that crap in there," she flicked her chin towards the meeting room, "I'd have been ill."

We made our way to the Students' Union bar and Lennie bought us both a bottle of beer and we sat at a table. As we spoke, she rolled a spliff. "You want one?" (You could still smoke in bars back then).

"No, thanks."

We talked for a while and her eyes assumed that dilated look that weed will give them, she became languid but still with me if you know what I mean. She had taken a job after leaving school and, five years on, had decided to get herself a degree and start writing what she called stories about life from a feminist and lesbian perspective.

"I come from Leeds." Her accent told me that much. "Coming here served a number of purposes. It got me away from my ex who was being a total pain in the arse, got me away from my parents who are ok but, well, restricting and get myself a degree so that I can have some respect as a writer. What about you?"

"No idea." She laughed and said that as good. "I want to get my degree but more than anything, I just want to learn more about me."

She looked at me with insightful eyes. "You've never had sex with a girl, have you?"

Be bold, Vic, I told myself, be honest. "I've only ever had sex with me."

Lennie simply nodded and we changed the subject. The bar got busier and noisier and, with drink taken, people began dancing. "Come on," said Lennie. "Let's dance."

We danced. Not together, but close, just swaying and turning to the music and watching the other dancers. A woman touched my shoulder. I turned to look at her but she was looking at Lennie. "Is she with you?" she asked Lennie.

"She's with whoever she wants to be with."

Then the woman looked at me. "Dance with me."

I didn't get a chance to accept or refuse, she pulled me into her arms and danced me away from Lennie who smiled at me as we moved away. She was a little taller than I, with a good, slender body, shoulder length ash blonde hair and about 40. She was wearing a pale yellow button down and cream trousers.

"You're new."

"Yes, I'm here for Freshers Week."

She smiled. "Me too. I'm not a fresher, but I like to inspect all the new girls. I'm Hazel, a 'mature' student which makes me feel about 60." I told her my name. "I wanted to get you away from your friend."

"She's not a friend, well, not yet. We only just met. We escaped the lesbian society together."

"I actually saw you there. Escaped why?"

"Why do you think?"

"A bunch of up their arse dykes if you ask me. You're gay, right?" I said I was. "Well, me too and the reason I wanted to dance with you is I think you're very pretty."

'Thank you."

"Let's get a drink, you're a crap dancer." Her smile softened the (accurate) insult. We went to the bar and, on the way, she took my hand. "Do you have a girlfriend back home? Most of the freshers seem to be missing one."

"No, I've never had a girlfriend, well, not like that." I told her, as we drank beer, that I'd been at boarding school, that being gay wasn't as good there as most people liked to believe so I'd kept myself to myself and bided my time until I was free of parents and school. She told me she was doing a PhD in something scientific.

"Want to come back to my flat?" We walked through the streets, hand in hand until she slipped her arm around my back and let her hand rest, casually on my hip. "You know I haven't invited you home for coffee, don't you?" I nodded. "Scared?"

"A bit. Look, I....I've never...."

She put a fingertip on my lips. "Shh, Let Hazel take care of you."

The door of her flat closed behind us and she led me, wordless, to her bedroom where, in the half light, she kissed me. She kissed me hard. I melted into it. It was not the first time I"d been kissed by a woman but it was the first time I"d been kissed like that. As we kissed she led me into her bedroom, then held me at arm's length to study me before kissing me again and this time her hand found my breast and gently fondled it.

"No bra? I like it." Her hand hefted my long skirt up and, for the first time I felt another woman's hand on my thigh, then on the front of my panties, our mouths locked all the while. Her finger, which was to be honest all I could think about, curled under the hem of my panties and began very gently to stroke my lips. I wanted so badly to feel her enter me. Then I did and was surprised when she sort of recoiled and looked at me.

"You're a fucking virgin!" I had no idea what to say. I'd tried to tell her. "Saving it for somebody?"

We sat on the bed and she'd changed from aggressive lover to, almost, a counsellor. Holding my hand, she said, "well?"

"Not someone in particular. I just didn't want to lose it to my vibe or dildo. I wanted someone to have it, break it, someone flesh and blood."

"Well, you have some fucking self-restraint, girl."

I knew that. I'd been so, so tempted to push something inside me but I reckoned it was a once in a lifetime thing and should be a rite of passage.

She nodded as she listened to me. "You know there are gay women who'd pay for that?" I must have looked offended because she kissed me. "I'm not suggesting you're a whore. Just a fact." Her hand was on my thigh, over my dress. "Nothing happens here unless you're happy. If you tell me to stop, I always will. I'll probably be pissed off, but I'll stop. I like new girls and you're special, not because of your virginity but because you know you're gay. So many don't."

I looked into her eyes. "Hazel, could you stop talking?"

Smiling, she took my hand and pulled me to her. The kiss was gentler and her hand left mine and went again to my breast. Her tongue entered my mouth. I sighed and decided I needed to be a bit more proactive, so I touched, first her face, and then her breast. Hazel pushed me back onto the bed and slowly unbuttoned my blouse. She touched my face and smiled. "Remember, just say if you want me to stop."

The first touch of another woman's lips on my nipple nearly made me cum. I was conscious that my knickers were drenched and sticking to me. She sucked my nipples, moving from one to the other.

"Never felt this before?"

"No."

"God, you're gold dust."

She continued sucking and gently biting my nipples until i felt her hand sliding up my leg, raising my skirt again, inch by painfully slow inch. To my sorrow her mouth left my breasts and suddenly she was between my legs, licking and kissing my thighs. Higher up my skin, her tongue explored the cleft between my cunt and my thigh. I was barely breathing. Again she stopped.

Getting off the bed, she took off her clothes, slowly, making me watch, not that I could have torn my eyes away. "Undress for me." I took off my blouse, then lifted my arse and pushed my skirt down. "Panties too." Self-consciously, I slipped them down but the look in her eyes made me feel good. She ran her fingers through my pubic hair, untrimmed, and she touched my clit's hood. She knelt between my legs and that was when dreams I had had for years became reality. Her tongue lapped at me, flat on my lips then spread them and worked all the way between them from the bottom, up to my hood which she flicked and licked and lifted to expose my clit. She licked that too, and I felt myself flood. She crawled up my body, licking me and then she lay on her side. We kissed, and I could taste myself. her finger ran where a few moments before her tongue had caressed me and I knew my orgasm wasn't far away.

Damn her, she stopped again. "Time for you to taste another woman, Vicky." I may have looked nervous because she smiled and said, "You can't get it wrong, you can only do it. Don't think it through." I started to move down the bed and her fingers were in my hair. She didn't hold me, she just touched my hair as I let my tongue find her, taste her and, as if I'd been doing it all my life, I licked her. I tried to remember how her tongue had worked on me. I sucked her lips, spread them and licked the soft, wet, pink flesh and felt a sort of rapture. She whispered words of encouragement. "Yes, like that. Just there. Fuck, that's so, so good. Put your finger in me, feel the heat and wet." I'd never touched a woman like this before except in my dreams and the reality was so much better, so wonderful.

Working with my tongue had turned my focus away from my own cunt and from what had felt like an imminent orgasm. Hazel stopped me and told me to lie beside her, on my back.

"Are you ok?" Silly question. She smiled and moved to kneel with the back of my head in her lap. She reached forward to stroke and hold my breasts, then lower down to my belly, then to my hips. As her body rolled over me, her cunt hovered over my face and, just as her mouth resumed licking and kissing me, she settled down so her cunt was in reach. I licked her enthusiastically and the joint sensations: her taste, her hair on my thighs, the wet of her cunt, her tongue on me, started to bring me towards the edge. I don't know how she knew the exact moment, but my orgasm was, without doubt, the most powerful I"d ever had, despite the fact that at it's apex, she pushed a finger, maybe two, into me and I felt the sharp pain as my hymen broke. I could not decide if the gasp I made was pain or ecstasy but i knew that hers was the latter.

We lay facing each other, her finger back inside me. "Fuck, that was a special moment for me," she said. "Was it all you hoped for?"

"Far more. Thank you. I wanted it to happen with someone who'd appreciate it, love it and make it work for me. Have I been bleeding?"

"A little, did it hurt?"

"I honestly don't know. I felt it but, well, there was quite a lot going on."

It was three weeks later that Hazel told me it was over. I knew by then that it would be, she'd made no secret of her love of variety, and new girls. I was a bit sad but not angry. I'd got what I wanted and she learned a lot.

It was Lennie who was the big surprise. I'd hardly seen her during the three weeks with Hazel. I was in the common room in our hall of residence when she came in with two other girls. She made them coffee, then sat beside me at the table, with Glenda and Christine (as she introduced them) sitting opposite.

"Haven't seen much of you." She said this with a grin.

I smiled. "I've been pursuing my education."

"She was hot, cant say I blame you."

Glenda, medium height, standard student jeans and t, long dark red hair, sensible sized tits (unlike Christine who proved to be her girlfriend) smiled at me across the table. "Bi, or gay?"

"Oh, she's gay," said Lennie. "And she pulled the best looking woman in the Union Bar and I haven't seen her since." She turned to me, "You look fucked." I could only smile. "Seeing her again?"

"It's all over now."

She slipped her arm across my shoulder. "Are you ok?"

"Honestly, I'm fine. It was inevitable."

"The brightest light burns the fastest," she said and I knew then that she really understood.

I was concentrating on Lennie so didn't notice, until I turned back, that the other two were locked in a kiss and it was obvious Glenda's hand was under Christine's t shirt and enjoying one of her substantial tits.

"Get a room," said Lennie as she took my hand and led me away. "We'll have a beer so these two can fornicate without an audience. Glenda raised a hand in a wave, that turned to a V sign. "Fuck you too," smiled Lennie.

We went to a local pub that had a reputation as a lesbian-friendly bar. She bought me a beer and we went to a table. "You want to talk about it?" When I hesitated, she said, "Look, between us, ok? I don't gossip."

"I'd never actually had sex before, with anyone. She told me she liked what she called 'newbies.' She even told me not to expect a relationship. I was fine with that, I just wanted to, well, test myself, I guess."

"Did you pass your test?"

"With distinction." We both laughed. "Have you met anyone?"

"Yes, I have."

"Want to talk about her?"

"No, I want another drink."

"My turn." I got up and took our glasses to the bar and returned with the refills. As I sat down, Lennie took my hand.

"Was it everything you'd hoped?"

"And then some. It was just..." words failed me.

"I'm pleased for you. So, what's your plan now?"

"To move on, work hard and play hard."

"Want to share some of your education with me?"

"I thought you'd met someone."

She squeezed my hand. "I have."

"I'm not ready for a relationship, Lennie, I just want to explore, try everything."

"Then we'll get along fine. While you were getting yourself shagged senseless, I've been having an education of my own. Glenda and Christine like entertaining others now and then."

"And you...?"

"Fuck, you're quick. Yes, and I.." She smiled. "I had a bit more experience than you before I came up, but those two are very enlightened. Not only that but they have a lot of friends. Beats the fucking Lesbian Society."

And that was how Lennie and I got together. No drama, no strings, just friends and sex.

In our second year we, along with Glenda and Christine, rented a flat. It had four bedrooms and we all nominally had our own but it was pretty rare for any of us to sleep alone. I, probably more than the others, worked hard, but that was because they were all brighter and quicker than I. So, quite often I'd have to work on into the small hours at my little desk but, at weekends and some week nights, we'd get together. Sometimes we all shared a bed and all of a sudden I was a happily fulfilled, beautifully over-sexed lesbian. We were amazingly good as a foursome, friendly, no clinging, no jealousies. We didn't even argue about the bathroom.

I had one last, memorable night with Hazel. It was shortly before she got her doctorate. I met her at the Union bar where she was celebrating with a few friends. I was standing at the bar, getting a round in for the four of us flatmates when I felt a hand on my shoulder. A voice in my ear said, "Well, look what the cat dragged in."

I knew instantly who it was. "I thought," I said without looking round, 'that you were the cat that dragged me."

She laughed, kissed me and we talked. She was moving on to Imperial in London, she told me. "A new hunting ground for you, then."

She agreed and then told me that in all her predatory but gentle times I was the sole virgin she'd ever found. "I've thought about it a lot. I can't decide if you were using me, or was it the other way around?"

"Who cares, we both enjoyed it."

"Good attitude. Fancy one for old times sake?"

Her bedroom was just as I"d remembered it: tidy and calmly lit.

"I've often wondered, were you also a virgin here?" Her hand touched my bum.

"I was, and still am. Never experienced it." That wasn't quite true. Glenda had licked me there one night and touched me, but I'd pushed her hand away and she hadn't pursued it.

"Don't fancy it?"

"I've read about it, thought about it but, well, it's kind of strange, isn't it?

"Strange to want to, or strange as in weird?"

I looked into her eyes. "I don't know."

And so it was that Hazel popped my second cherry. Before that happened she found me far more experienced than when she'd first known me. I took the initiative a bit and after a long period of kissing, undressing and touching, I went down on her and used all my skills to get her off. It was a highly successful campaign, if I do say so myself.

Her approach to taking my virginity for the second time was quite simply ravishing. She started by giving me a fabulous massage. She'd done this before during our time together but this was better: slow and oily and intimate. She worked my neck and shoulders, my back, my thighs and calves. When she did my thighs, her fingers worked beautifully in my cunt and around my bum. I was so, so relaxed that when she gently pushed her finger into my arse I was able simply to let her in and she kissed me and told me I was a good girl. I could feel her pushing oil into me, warm and slippery and, with soothing and encouraging words she made it feel like the most natural thing in the world.

She lifted my arse up and knelt behind me. I felt, as I had only a few times before, the head of her strapon between my labia. She fucked me for a while before easing out and up and, leaning over me, her nipples hard against my back, she touched the head to my arse and let me get used to the idea. Her entering me was slow, gentle and accompanied by finger working my clit so that I was so close to orgasm by the time she was deep inside me, had there been any pain, I was blissfully unaware. It was so, so intimate, so utterly natural and gentle that I had no idea whether my orgasm was precipitated by the dildo in my arse or the fingers on my clit. All I know is that she told me after it had been like a rodeo ride, that I had yelled and bucked and, she claimed, shouted obscenities. "Very unlady-like!"