A story of good, clean fun between two women
I smiled as I drove up the long driveway from the coastal road and looked beyond the log cabin, situated on the bluff, to the Atlantic Ocean and the string of rock islands that formed a natural breakwater. I had made a good choice. This would be an idyllic setting during the summer months in which to begin writing my first novel.
As I exited my car, a woman came out through the cabin's side screen door, walked down several worn, wooden stairs to the driveway, extended her right hand and said, "Hi, from your license plate, you must be Stacey. I've been expecting you. I'm Claire."
"Yup, that's me," I responded, extending my right hand to hers. "You have an idyllic location."
Claire was about my height, average looks, wearing hiking boots, jeans and a shirt with its sleeves rolled up to beyond her elbows. She had the aura of an outdoor's person.
"Leave your stuff. You've been in the car for a long time. I'll show you around. It will get your circulation going." With that, she began leading me around the cabin and then into it.
"My grandfather built this cabin in the 1920s. It is mine now together with the land around. The closest house is about a quarter mile away. The backyard and the beach are very private. I built the modern laundry/bathhouse several years ago."
The backyard extended to the edge of the bluff. It was enclosed by the ocean, a long shed on one side and a bathhouse on the other. A two-switchback trail led down to the sand beach and water. I would be able to sunbath and swim in the nude comfortably. There were a couple of lounge chairs, a small covered pavilion in which there were chairs and a table, and a charcoal grill. There was a wood heated hot tub located between the pavilion and the cabin. The hot tub brought back fond memories of hot tubbing with my women friends of like mind.
I already liked being here.
Claire led me into the cabin through an end door that faced the ocean. We entered into a large square common room. The kitchen area was immediately to the left of the door with the sink located beneath a window that looked out onto the driveway. On the opposite wall, between two windows, was a wood stove. At the far end of the room, a three-quarter high partition extended from both walls with an opening in the middle. Clair led me to the opening. There was another dividing partition leading from the back wall to the opening. On both sides of the dividing partition where bedrooms each containing a full size bed, wardrobe cabinet, a desk and chair. The desk was located under the sidewall window.
Entering the right bedroom Claire said, "This will be your room."
"Wonderful, thanks," I responded. The window looked out onto the ocean. I had noticed that in the other bedroom room, the window looked out upon the driveway.
Claire helped me bring in my stuff. For the next hour or so, I unpacked and settled in. I connected my laptop up to the Internet. Claire was connected to the Internet through a satellite service. Finishing, I went out and sat in the backyard. Claire joined me bringing me a beer.
"What are you writing?" she asked.
"A fictional novel built around my travels. I've been to most of the National Parks in the West and to Alaska and thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail. I've met some interesting people and have had many interesting and fun experiences.
"Is the story about you?"
"No, it is more than just about me. It is about interactions between people in different situations. What do you do?"
"I am an elementary school teacher, K-3."
"Here in Jonesport?"
"No, in Bangor. This is a getaway home. I have a working farm south of Bangor. A sharecropping family lives on the farm with me. They farm and take care of property".
It was time for supper. Claire left to prepare it. I asked if I could help but she said no, not this time. My summer arrangement was for room and board. Claire brought me another beer. I changed my seat to look out onto the ocean and the waves breaking over the rock islands.
I found Claire to be a warm, self-confident woman. She was reasonably attractive and articulate. In the course of settling in and exchanging "life" stories, I learned that she had been home schooled by very conservative parents. While growing up, her friends were those also homeschooled by very conservative parents. She had lived at home while attending college in Bangor. She had lost her virginity when she was a freshman. She did not look back upon it fondly. She avoided dating boys from then on. She felt herself an outsider during college. She did not seem to have an active social life,
I am a morning person. Upon awakening, I dress, go to my laptop and begin writing. After a few hours, I break for breakfast. After breakfast, I return and write for a couple of more hours.
During the summer, my standard attire is a silk-like tank top with spaghetti straps, shorts, bikini panties and no bra. The top is purposefully large. I like the way the material drapes around my breasts emphasizing their form and my nipples. My breasts are a firm, C-cup that sit proudly on my chest. My nipples are obvious, more so when they are aroused. The silkiness of the material would often arouse them. I have to be careful, though, with the looseness of the top, if I bend over too far, my breasts, including my nipples, are visible. Sometimes, that's OK. I like to flirt especially with women. If I get too carried away flirting, though, I find that I need to "relieve" myself. I like being touched even if I am the one doing it.
Over the next few days, I often caught Claire looking at my nipples. I would tease her. I would consciously bend over to give Claire a better view. It aroused me. "
Could I seduce Claire?
" I wondered. "
What the heck, let's try
," I thought. Thus, it began.
After my morning writing, I would put on my very skimpy, bikini swim suit and go out to lie in the sun. I arranged the lounges so that I would be facing the sun full on and Claire, if she joined me, would be sitting with her back mostly to the sun, her face in the shade. In this way, I could wear sunglasses and be able to watch her reasonably unnoticed.
Claire would go about her routine often stopping at the end screen door to look out at me, sometimes making a comment. After a few days, I went out in only my bottoms. The next day, Claire joined me sunbathing. She wore a more conservative two-piece bathing suit. She did not move the lounge.
Claire had difficulty keeping her eyes off my breasts. After a while, I began applying suntan lotion to them. It was more than "applying". I was using the lotion as a lubricant to fondle my breasts. I noticed a wet spot forming on the crotch of Claire's swimsuit. I was having the desired effect.
That was the pattern for the next few days. It became obvious to Claire that I was aware of her looking and liked it. There was no longer a façade of applying suntan lotion. I was fondling my breast for our mutual enjoyment.
It was time to "up my game".
On Sundays, I would drive to Bar Harbor or Bangor to observe people. I would find a place to sit, oftentimes, the outside seating of a bistro, and make notes of peoples' interactions. Later, back at the cabin, I would create fictional vignettes using them as a starting point. It was a form of free writing, of practicing creative writing, of developing my story telling skills. Some of those vignettes would eventually find their way into my novel. On those trips, I would usually visit the local thrift stores.
On the following Sunday I drove to Bar Harbor, I found a tennis skirt that fit me. It didn't cost much. I bought it. I had an idea for moving my seduction of Claire along. I also found a couple of tanks tops for Claire.
Upon arriving back at the cabin, I immediately gave Claire the tank tops and encouraged her to put one on.
"I've seen you looking at mine. You seem to like them. I thought you might like them too", I said.
Claire went into her room and put one on. When she returned she was beaming. Her nipples were "beaming" also. She was not wearing a bra!
"You look beautiful!" I exclaimed. I felt good that Claire obviously felt sufficiently comfortable with me that she would go without a bra.
"Let me show you what I found," I said and, picking up the bag, went into my room to change. I returned topless, wearing the tennis skirt. There was some bewilderment in Claire's eyes. "You've seen my boobs many times. I like the freedom", I offered offhand as an explanation. Then I twirled. The skirt flared out. Claire gasped audibly. I wasn't wearing panties! I was wearing a broad smile, though.
For the next few days, we settled into our new fashion statements. Claire wore a tank top and shorts and looked for every opportunity she could to lean over to flash me her breasts. I went topless wearing my tennis skirt. I sunbathed in my tennis skirt, crossing and uncrossing my legs, flashing Claire my pussy. I especially liked to tease Claire by straddling the lounge as I laid there. My pussy displays well.
Things changed one evening when I was sitting on the couch reading the draft of what I had written so far. I had one leg bent up on the couch and the other leg on the floor. I was absentmindedly fondling my pussy. Claire entered the room and sat in an armchair immediately across from me. She grabbed a magazine to read but her interest was elsewhere.
I was aroused when I became aware that she was watching my fingers. I began fondling myself with a sexual intent. I fondled my breasts and played with my nipples. I became very wet. I began drawing a finger through my labia to collect as much of my wetness as possible and then bring it to my mouth where I sucked it clean. I like the subtlety of my own taste as I do the taste of others.
I watched Claire's eyes follow my hand. After several trips, our eyes met.
