For the most part this is a true story. Certainly the characters are real, as are the situations, though probably not in the sequence told. This is my first ever story of any kind and I appreciate that mistakes will have been made and, therefore, welcome constructive criticism in order to eventually produce more readable content in the future. I have attempted to minimise the use of profanities in the story whilst at the same time attempting to narrate true life experiences in a sensual and sexy manner which I hope you will enjoy.
Lissa xxx
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My name is Lissa and I am the only child of a late thirty something couple who live in an idyllic little village in Buckinghamshire, England UK. The story starts as I was returning home after a prolonged absence.
The journey was long, the train seats lumpy and uncomfortable but that was not the reason why I was unable to concentrate on reading the book brought especially along to while away the time. My thoughts lay elsewhere, with my lover to be precise, on how we would greet after a month apart. Anticipation of the meeting was building within me as was the ever present sexual desire for what I hoped and prayed would soon transpire.
The book I had tried to read lay open on my on my lap on top of a casual jacket and thankfully both covered the movements of my hand which was roving around my groin area, gently teasing my clit through my panties to the motion of the train, not a good idea really as I have never yet had a silent orgasm but I don't think anyone noticed what I was doing, and even if they had I cared not a jot.
I had been away on a training course so far from home as to make it impractical to return at weekends, but now the big day had arrived and we had arranged that my lover would be waiting expectantly for me at the station, hot with the same desire as my own I hoped.
We had talked on the 'phone every evening of course, but that isn't the same as actually being together, touching, kissing and making love whenever the moment was right, though since we had been apart we had indulged quite openly and noisily in 'phone sex which we both agreed was the next best thing. We used the word Fuck many times during our sexy 'phone calls together with a liberal smattering of Cunt, whore, slut etc and talking dirty somehow brought us together more over those hundreds of miles. Strangely though, when we are together we rarely use dirty talk or feel the need to so that is the last time those words will be used in the telling of our story.
I remember vividly the time I brought myself to a climax with the handset, my lover listening to the squishy wet noises it made as it moved up and down inside my body, my simultaneous screams of pain and delight being muffled so many miles away. Just what possessed me to do that? I was lonely in a strange town, missing my lover and thought anything I could do to excite that most precious person would keep the physical side of our relationship burning. As things transpired I needn't have worried and needn't have done it but it does beg the question; how many other girls have had physical relations with a mobile phone? Answers on a postcard please!
When the phone rang at precisely 9 pm every evening I instinctively knew it was my lover and waited impatiently for the calls which we both knew would start slowly but passionately and build up gradually, sexily until we both had noisy screaming orgasms, me with my panties still on, sodden by now with vaginal secretion and the pee which almost always escaped me when I came, dribbling down my thighs, and which I never attempted to stop. My lover thought this to be an endearing little trait but it was often quite a source of embarrassment to me.
To look at my lover or myself for that matter, nobody could imagine that we could talk so dirty, that such filth between two lovers was possible, but we did, and it was wonderful. But now the train was entering the station and I stared impatiently though the window to see if my love was waiting. She was!
Heart racing, I grabbed my bags and rushed down the steps into her arms.
"Mmmm, I missed you darling," said Anita, "I love you so much Lissa."
My tongue was down her throat in a jiffy and my reply inaudible, but I think she understood how I felt, and by the looks we received from other passengers it was obvious they also understood. I would have danced naked over red hot coals to see my lady, so the few funny looks we received bounced off like drizzle from an umbrella.
"Missed you too Nita darling," I cooed, "I've been dreaming about this moment for weeks!" and indeed I had.
Nita as I call her, was a stunner in any language and by anyone's standard, tall, slim and brunette with slightly larger than boyish breasts that would never droop with age. She was 37 then but she looked at most to be 25 and could easily have passed for my slightly older sister. But she isn't my sister, she is my lover.
At that time I was 19, and though I shouldn't say this, quite attractive from what others said. I too am tall and slim, and have a similar figure to Nita's. That's great because everything fits where it should when we make love, and that is often. My breasts are small too but for me this is an advantage rather than not. Nature made me tall and slim and I do my best to keep things that way by regular training with Nita at our local gym.
Nita drove us to her home in a peacefully quiet part of village where she lived with her husband who, though I love him to bits, was mercifully away on business for a week or so, unknowingly giving us the time and space to be alone. Nita only found she was bisexual when we began our affair, our very deep and private love affair. She has no sexual desire for any other woman but me, and I reciprocate that. We are totally in love, but she is married and neither of us would wish to hurt her husband in any way by breaking up the marriage.
As she drove, my hand wandered, wandered, wandered, until it reached that warm, moist and well trimmed place that we ladies (and most men) regard as our Holy of Holies. She must have been expecting me to do just this because she wore no panties.
She moaned as my fingertips brushed her pubic hair. She moaned and steered though half closed eyes as I sought entry to her cavern of love as she drove on. Her thighs were hot and quivered at my touch but she was far hotter in between them.
"Best not Lissa darling," she said though clenched teeth, "any more of this and I'll crash!"
Such was my desire for her that day I hadn't taken the traffic, light as it was, into account. Slowly and teasingly I withdrew my hand ensuring those fingernails raked her thigh, making her shudder with delight.
I sniffed my naughty fingers and inhaled her tantalising scent. Her sexual aroma was unique and I would have picked it out blindfold from a hundred others, a blend of pure, mature woman and open sexual desire. It was a scent I remembered so well and loved so much, a scent to be savoured, a scent for special occasions, a scent to be worn with pride and a scent born out of love.
"Mmmmm," I murmured half to myself, "I love you Nita....can't wait to get...."
But at that point Nita was pulling into her driveway, and with a quick flick of her wrist turned the engine off. We gazed at each other from only inches away and for the first time in a month experienced a frenzied bout of kissing and feeling each other's bodies.
