The Seduction Of Claire

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.

"Why don't you come sit here", I invited, pointing to the floor in front of me, "you'll be able to see better."

She did. When she did, she rested her head against my inner thigh, her face about 5" from my pussy.

I continued fondling my pussy, toying my clit, running a finger through my labia and inserting a finger to the first knuckle into my vagina. My wetness became obvious. Claire could see and hear it. I think that she smelled my scent. She began lightly rubbing her pussy through her shorts.

I collected some of my wetness onto my finger and brought it to Claire's mouth. Hesitantly, she sucked it clean while maintaining eye contact with me. We did it repeatedly. She began to open her mouth in anticipation of the next wet finger.

The taste was ambrosia. Claire couldn't get enough of it. I placed my other hand behind her head and gently pulling it forward, suggesting that she move her mouth to my pussy.

She did. She was in a trance, the fog of sex. She could not get enough of the "nectar" fast enough. I gently and softly guided her, telling her what to do, how to do it and whether if felt good or not. She learned quickly. I continued to guide her. She was rewarded with orgasmic nectar. It was one of the strongest orgasms that I had experienced. My abdomen muscles contracted strongly and repeatedly.

After I settled down some, I pulled Claire onto the couch and spooned her from behind, holding her tightly, and gently fondling her breasts.

After a while, I whispered into her ear, "Are you OK?"

Claire immediately turned around and asked, "Can I do that some more?"

"Wait, let me go pee."

I peed, washed the dried scent of the previous pleasures away and returned to the couch sitting as I had done before. Claire had easy and comfortable access to my pussy.

Claire didn't hesitate. She remembered her lesson well. She improved upon her techniques. She quickly brought me to an orgasm. She could not get enough of my nectar. One would think that she was addicted to it.

The next day was a lost writing day for me. I languished about. More times than naught, Claire's face was buried between my legs. She began "playing", teasing me. I found myself begging for completion.

Claire's transformation from a socially reserved woman to an assertive one was remarkable. I really liked her this way.

That night after we went to bed in our respective bedrooms, I rose and went to knock on her bedroom entry. "May I come in?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied smiling.

"May I sleep with you tonight?" I asked.

Without a word, she smiled broadly and opened the covers to invite me into her bed.

Before getting in, I removed my sleeping clothes, a t-shirt and boy shorts. Claire's smile broadened as she removed hers and extended her arms out to receive me.

We held one another, facing together.

"Thanks," she began, "I always believed that the human body was beautiful and its beauty should be shared. You showed me just how beautiful it was and how easy it is to share it. I've not been so intimate with another since my first time when I was 20. Either it had to do with how my partner, at the time, had approached it or had to do with the fact that he was a man but with you it was awesome. It was wonderful burying my face in your pussy. I think that I'm addicted to your nectar especially when you come. I feel that I can never do it too much. I want to explore your breasts."

With that, she slipped down and began exploring my breasts. I rolled back some to allow her ready access.

She caressed my breasts ever so lightly. She cupped them and felt their weight. Her fingers circled the areoles and twitched, pulled slightly and pinched my nipples until they were fully engorged. Then, she did the same with her tongue and lips. Finally, she began to suckle my breast bringing mews of pleasure from me.

She stopped when I placed my hand under her chin, brought her face up, and kissed her.

I made love to her lips raining upon them light short kisses and caresses with the tip of my tongue. Claire wanted more. She kept pushing her face forward seeking a more substantial kiss. In time, I responded. My kisses began to roam her face but returned often to her lips and mouth to keep her involved as an active participant. My lips, tongue and mouth found their way to her breasts and nipples. In a short time, I had Claire mewing and responding when I lightly bit her nipples or sucked and pulled on them with my lips. I wondered if it was just my technique or her inexperience. I kept at it until Claire pulled my head away.

I sat up looking down at her, bent down, kissed her lovingly, and whispered into her ear, "That was the appetizer, now comes the feast."

I proceeded to kiss her body down to her pussy.

I traced her labia with my tongue and sucked on them. I ran the tip of my tongue from her vagina upward, stopping before her clit. I probed her vagina with the tip of my tongue always listening to her breathing and murmurings. When I felt the time right, I stroked her clit.

Almost immediately, she arched her back and "exploded" into an awesome orgasm. As she came "down", I flicked her clit with the tip of my tongue causing her to have a lesser one.

I propped myself against the headboard and moved Claire to lie over my lap, face down. I began to caress her back from her neck to her buttocks. Claire relaxed into it. After a while, my hand dropped into her crotch. I brought my hand up over her pussy with a finger dragging through her labia. I continued often slipping my thumb into her vagina to caress her G-spot.

After she orgasmed, I moved her around and spooned her. My hand was nestled against her pussy. We fell off to sleep.

I awoke, lying on my side, with a calm feeling. Claire was nursing at my breast. She wasn't sucking hard. It was more for stimulation as to encourage the flow of milk. I gently placed my free hand behind her head and caressed it to encourage her to continue. I moved my hand down to caress her back and draw her body into me. With her free hand, she searched out my free arm and then my hand and brought my hand to her pussy. I began gently rubbing her clit. She purred. After a while, she moved her free hand to my pussy and similarly began gently rubbing my clit. We lay there like that. There was no urgency. We lost ourselves in the moment. We both orgasmed, she began which triggered me.

I pulled her face up to mind and kissed her gently. "Thanks, that is a wonderful way to begin the day."

"Yes, I enjoyed it too," and we kissed gently.

We made love but we were not in love. We had sex but we were more than "fuck buddies". We had a "connection". There was an ease between us. Our body was the other's to do with as she wished. We recognized that, at times, we had a want to fondle a breast or pussy or just feel smooth skin under our fingers. It was more than "copping a feel". Yes, we could fondle our own but it was so much more fun to fondle another's. At other times, we had a need. We needed to have a sexual release, an orgasm.

We both had other things that we wanted to do, though. I needed to write. She had her routine. We developed a signaling system. We would briefly interrupt the other with a request, "When you have the time, I want or I need you." The requestee would always find the time. What was funny was the feeling of anticipation that grew in us both. Sometimes a "want" or "need" grew into a mutual "need".

One rule that we established early in our sexual relationship was that in getting together it was never "my turn then your turn". Getting together was either about just one, a want or a need, or, when about both, a mutual need.

Making love involved a lot of kissing, wet kissing, kissing with a lot of tongue. We would begin lying on our sides looking at one another with our free hand caressing the other. We would quietly share recent personal incidents that gave us considerable pleasure in living life. The telling would be interrupted by kisses, first lightly and then with more passion that reflected our growing needs. One of us would break that coupling to begin exploring the other's body for the sole purpose to arouse.

Who did what, when flowed naturally. Nipples were pinched, lightly bitten, and sucked playfully as well as hard. Clit's were tickled, caressed, licked, sucked, rubbed and toyed with. Vagina's were toyed with and penetrated but not too deeply and sometimes with the tip of the tongue. There came a time when we both returned to facing one another and resumed kissing, This time, though, our fee hand search out the other's pussy and we began masturbating the other. As our passion built, our kissing became more passionate and our hands more demanding. One's orgasm would trigger triggered the others.

After we orgasmed, we would continue to play with the other's clit bringing her to additional, smaller orgasms. We would lay there afterwards in the same position. We'd most often nod off to a brief nap.

It always felt good. We learned to appreciate one another and the unique nature of our intimacy.

The night before I was to leave, we celebrated. We went into town to enjoy a Maine lobster dinner. It was delicious. I drove. On the way home, Claire was all over me with her hands and whispering in my ear, "I want you. I need you."

By the time we arrived back at the cabin my panties were soaked. As soon as I stopped, Claire rushed out of the car and around to my door. She opened it, pulling me out into a firm embrace and extended kiss. She took my hand and led me into the backyard. She had prepared for this.

There was an inflatable mattress covered with a sheet and a blanket. It would appear that our final night together would be spent out under the starts. It was a beautiful. Her intent made it better.

We needed one another. We recognized what the other had come to mean to us individually. We made love slowly, appreciating each kiss, each touch, and each murmur. We orgasmed quietly, together. We remained lying on our sides, looking at one another, as we drifted off to sleep.