‘OK, Lucy, come to me, please.’ Grace’s tone is still strict and as I walk to her I see she is holding a wooden paddle and she has positioned two cushions in the middle of the bed. ‘Lucy, I want you to lie face down and place your bottom over the cushions as if they were my knee,’ Grace requests. As I go to comply Grace, stops me for a moment and holds my chin up and we look into each others eyes. Her stare is intense and sends a quiver of excitement to my deepest core and I blush.
I climb onto the bed and position myself over the cushion. ‘Lucy, I am going to paddle your bottom for 20 swats,’ Grace advises me as if telling me a piece of trivia from the morning papers. I want to shout out that I can’t take it but I lay still and wait.
The first crack of the paddle over my bottom is intense and stings, the corner time was enough to cool it down just a little so the numbness disappeared and the paddle started its tirade of cracks against my red raw bottom. On the second crack I cried out.
‘I hope you will never hide anything from me again, Lucy.’ CRACK, CRACK. ‘I want to be able to trust you,’ CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, ‘I love you, Lucy, you’re my girl.’
CRACK, CRACK, CRACK CRACK CRACK. ‘I am doing this for you.’ CRACK, CRACK, CRACK. ‘I have decided that I am going to become far more involved in helping you have at the very least a basic writing plan in place,’ CRACK CRACK CRACK, ‘to combat your persistent procrastination.’ CRACK CRACK CRACK. Each swat throbbed and my legs flew about wildly as I gyrated on the cushions trying to avoid the force of Grace’s paddle. Grace swung her arm so far back that the last swat was so fast and hard that the noise as it cut through the air was audible: WHOOSH, CRACK!!
Grace had beaten me harder than ever and for the first time since the dinner party the tenderness returned to her voice. ‘Are you OK, Lucy? Have you learned a lesson?’ She doesn’t expect an answer at this point she moves and sits next to my body and she rubs my bottom gently and then harder. She rubs each cheek and thigh and works her way inside my thighs. She rolls me over gently and I wince as my bottom is pushed against the sheets. She looks into my eyes and smiles as she watches me wince. ‘I love you, Grace, I’m so sorry!’ I say through a teary voice. Grace kisses me and her relentless hands move down my stomach and in between my legs as she begins to work her magic all over again.
I feel safe with Grace.
Siren
by Beverly Langland
Colleen turned away briskly trying to avoid the angry water as the wave broke over the bow. Too late – the cold spray caught her full on. She shook her head, cleared her eyes the best she could before turning back to the helm, edging her charge a little closer to the wind. Elizabeth looked on anxiously but visibly relaxed once she realised the young woman was smiling through the mass of black hair plastered to her face. Who would have dreamed this time last week I would be sailing, thought Colleen. Me of all people! And not just sailing but in charge of the tiller. Then a lot had changed in seven days. She was no longer the frightened timid shop-girl. Together, she and Elizabeth had set forth on a great adventure. Already she was filled with a sense of excitement, of fear, though her trepidation had little to do with the vast waters around her, nor the fierce wind lashing at her face. Her anxiety came from the Siren known as Elizabeth. Colleen glanced at the older woman as she set about the business of keeping Adriana afloat. Her outward calm belied the ferocity of the storm, belied the fierce passion hidden beneath the surface. Yet it had started so peacefully …
As Colleen peered from behind her novel she thought them both beautiful. Adriana with her sleek, elegant lines and the auburn-haired woman, serene and sophisticated as she sipped cocktails or lay sun-bathing along the bow. Colleen observed them each day from the safety of her hotel balcony. She knew she should be more adventurous, should explore further than just the beach immediately in front of the hotel with its small marina. That’s what the holiday was all about, after all – a new start, a new determination to forge her own path. Colleen felt she was different to most girls. Well, not that different – she still craved companionship, still hoped to find love. Trouble was she lived with her parents in a small rural village. Residents there held fixed opinions, couldn’t understand why she had not yet married, had not started a family of her own.
Hence the holiday; a time to reflect, the chance to meet someone of similar mind. Though Colleen hadn’t yet ventured far from the hotel. Something about the woman on the yacht constantly drew her attention – like a Siren calling to her, demanding her attention. Colleen felt unnerved by her compulsion to watch, a little thrilled by her new found voyeurism. Enough! She had to break free of her lethargy. Tomorrow she would explore one of the coastal villages. Though strolling through the marina, her temptation to loiter as she passed Adriana became too great to resist. She looked around. There was no sign of the woman. Colleen paused, imagined what it must be like to own such a yacht, to have the freedom to sail into the distance, to not look back. At that instant, the red-headed woman appeared in front of her, eyes wide, curious. Colleen realised the woman had been crouched in one of the lockers and she had not noticed. The Siren flashed a smile, bright as the sun overhead. “Hello.”
“Hi. I was just …”
“Beautiful isn’t she?”
“Very.”
“You know much about boats?”
“Nothing actually.”
The beautiful face turned suddenly dark, the pupils of the green eyes shrinking to pinpoints. “So it’s me you’ve been spying on from your watchtower!” She pointed towards Colleen’s balcony. “Bloody paparazzi. Can’t you people leave me alone?”
“I wasn’t. I mean I’m not …”
“A likely story!”
“Honest. I have nothing to do with the press.”
“But you were watching me?”
Colleen blushed, decided to ignore the question. “Are you famous then?”
The woman’s anger dissipated as her amused smile developed into a full-blown laugh. Colleen felt herself turn a deeper shade of red. Should she have recognised this woman?
“No, not at all. The name’s Elizabeth.” She held out a slender hand.
“Colleen.”
The two women shook hands politely, Elizabeth holding on a moment as if considering options. “Would you like to come aboard, Colleen?” Elizabeth shaded her eyes with the palm of her hand, momentarily surveyed the horizon before turning to face Colleen once more. “Not much chance of a sail, I’m afraid, but I was considering motoring to a quiet cove not far from here. We can picnic if you like.”
Colleen felt a little stunned. One minute the woman was berating her, the next inviting her on to her boat. Still, the opportunity seemed too good to pass, and besides Colleen still felt that strange compulsion to stay close. “Sounds wonderful.” She examined the clothes she wore. “Should I change?”
Elizabeth eyed the young woman. “Dress code aboard the Adriana is strictly casual.”
“But I don’t even have my bikini.”
Elizabeth smiled again. “Don’t worry, you won’t need one. The cove I have in mind is isolated. Few tourists venture that far from the beaten track.”
“And the locals?”
“The odd goat perhaps. It’s too far from the road for the locals to bother in this heat. I’m afraid you’ll have to suffer my company.”
Though excited, once aboard Colleen felt awkward and out of place. She had no idea what was going on as Elizabeth calmly and efficiently cast off and manoeuvred Adriana away from the marina and out into the bay. All Colleen could do was watch in wonder as individual figures on the beach slowly melded into one colourful mass. Soon even the mass faded and all she could see was a sun-hazed shoreline. She turned her attention to Elizabeth. Colleen watched as the older woman moved – lithe as a cat – from one task to the next. Elizabeth glanced up, caught Colleen’s scrutiny. “I wish I could help,” Colleen said, in an effort to hide her pleasure in watching Elizabeth move.
“You can help stow these,” Elizabeth answered, p
assing Colleen a fender.
Once they had finished Elizabeth sat next to Colleen in the cabin. “You can relax now. Why don’t you strip down to your undies? No one will notice.”
Colleen blushed again. “My bra and knickers don’t match.”
“Go topless then. I normally do.”
Colleen hesitated, for some reason she averted her eyes as Elizabeth removed her bikini top, even though exposing one’s breasts appeared to be the norm on the hotel beach. Perhaps she simply wanted to see them too much and couldn’t bear the burden of guilt she felt. Elizabeth waited. “Go on. You’re on holiday. Besides, there are only us girls all alone out here.” There was the call again, urging, luring. Still, Colleen remembered her resolution. “Yes. I am on holiday!” She stripped to her panties; hoped Elizabeth wouldn’t notice her nervous trembling, notice how erect her nipples were.
There was no chance of that. Elizabeth seemed to watch her every movement, stared openly at the girl’s breasts. “It’s the sea breeze,” she said nonchalantly. Colleen’s flush spread to her throat and chest. Elizabeth smiled warmly, a twinkle in her eye. “I love the way you blush so readily.”
“Do I?”
For a long while Colleen sat forward, her hands squashed between her thighs, arms hiding her nipples. When she realised that Elizabeth paid her no attention she relaxed, lay back against the cushions, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. They motored to the secluded cove with hardly a word spoken, the sound and vibration of the diesel engine lulling Colleen into a state of semi-consciousness. Behind her closed eyelids she thought only of Elizabeth, of Elizabeth’s sun-tanned body, of the freckles on the woman’s breasts.
“You should put on more sunscreen.”
Colleen sat up, pleasantly dazed, to find Elizabeth edging Adriana into a horseshoe-shaped cove surrounded on all sides by high cliffs. Elizabeth placed the engine in neutral, dropped anchor, drew in the chain using the motorised hoist until the anchor caught and the chain became taut. Satisfied, she cut the engine. After the gentle drone of the previous hour the silence was striking. Colleen looked around wide-eyed. The cove looked idyllic, the surrounding hillsides deserted, the only onlooker a somewhat bemused goat, and even he moved on.
Elizabeth was in the turquoise clear water before Colleen had fully taken in the spectacle. “Come on! The water’s lovely.”
After some hesitation Colleen followed. It wasn’t an elegant dive and in the process she lost her panties. She thrashed around in a minor panic trying to find them.
“These yours?” Elizabeth teased, holding aloft the sodden material. She swam over to the younger woman. “Feels good doesn’t it? Swimming naked, I mean.”
“Yes,” admitted Colleen.
Elizabeth took hold of Colleen’s hand, guided it between her legs while she effortlessly trod water. She looked deep into the girl’s eyes. “I left mine on deck.”
“Oh.” Colleen felt her cheeks flush again.
Elizabeth pressed hesitant fingers against her sex. “You know, I don’t believe you’re as innocent as you make out Colleen. You realise – or suspect now at least – why I invited you on board?”
“No. I mean …”
“Hoped perhaps? Why else did you spy on me, day after day?”
“I wasn’t spying.”
“Come now, we both know that you were. Don’t be shy – tell Lizzie the truth. Do you like to watch other girls? Did you touch yourself while you watched me?”
“No!”
“Not your type?” Elizabeth wrapped her lithe legs around the girl’s waist, clasping her tightly.
“Please, I’m not a strong swimmer. I’d like to go back now.”
“Of course.”
Back aboard the Adriana, Colleen busied herself with the pretence of towelling dry, with applying sun-screen lotion.
“Here, let me do that.”
Colleen nervously handed Elizabeth the bowl of oil and lay passively on her front as Elizabeth began to rub the oily lotion into her skin. Her hands felt soft and sure and soon Colleen fell back into her languid state. Then, without a word, Elizabeth straddled Colleen’s legs, sitting just below her bottom. Colleen was intensely aware of Elizabeth’s nakedness. Her sex felt hot and moist against her skin. As the woman worked her way from shoulder to legs, her hands lingered on the girl’s bottom, slick fingers dipping between those cheeks, teasing, delving between her thighs and the backs of her legs.
“God, that feels good,” Colleen said, then opened her eyes wide in alarm. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud!”
“Don’t worry, I feel the same. I can’t remember the last time I …”
“Eight months,” Colleen admitted.
“With a girl?”
“With anyone.”
“You poor thing.”
Elizabeth expertly massaged oil into Colleen’s skin. Her fingers found the two dimples on Colleen’s lower back; her hands sculpted the swell of Colleen’s hips, the curves of her bottom, the depth of her cleft. Colleen spread her legs slightly as Elizabeth continued to massage her upper thighs. She began to fret when she realised that in so doing she had exposed her sex, perhaps her puckered brown anus. She imagined Elizabeth exploring there, bending close, probing deep with her tongue. The notion made her tingle.
Suddenly Elizabeth slapped Colleen’s thigh as if reading her wicked thoughts. “Roll over!”
Slowly, Colleen turned onto her back. She shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun only to be confronted with Elizabeth’s inquisitive green eyes. A little of the initial playfulness had gone, replaced now with a look of undiluted passion. As if to please her tormentor, Colleen blushed when she realised she stared directly at Elizabeth’s sex. The way Elizabeth straddled her had parted her lips. They looked inflamed and bloated.
Elizabeth reached into the bowl, brought her hands out shiny and dripping with oil. She rubbed them together, then caressed her breasts, smoothing the oil over her skin until she shone softly in the sunlight. More oil and her hands moved downwards over her flat tummy, her hips, her upper thighs. Again more oil, this time she reached to caress Colleen. She began at the girl’s feet, working up her shins and thighs, deliberately skipping Colleen’s mons, though she briefly teased her sex with a trailing finger before moving on to the girl’s quivering belly. Then her hands sidetracked to Colleen’s arms, her shoulders, before again edging inwards.
Colleen knew full well Elizabeth’s game. Certainly, the Siren made no pretence of her ultimate goal. Once more dipping her hands into the warm oil, she placed them on Colleen’s breasts, making the girl’s nipples stand to attention like two pink sentries.
Slowly Elizabeth shifted position, leaning ever closer until her nipples brushed against Colleen’s breasts. Oiled skin against oiled skin, she slid lower, the pressure light but the contact unbroken. Lower and lower, then back up until her breasts hung above Colleen’s face. Elizabeth slithered from side to side, rubbing Colleen’s breasts with her stomach, her own breasts dangling tantalisingly close to the girl’s mouth. Aroused, Colleen felt suddenly emboldened. “I think you missed a spot,” she whispered. Elizabeth sat upright, looked a little puzzled until Colleen spread her legs slightly, raising her head to look directly into Elizabeth’s eyes.
Elizabeth smiled wickedly. “Yes, I believe you’re right. Such a tender spot deserves special attention.” She gathered more lotion onto her fingers, rubbed it into Colleen’s already shining wet labia. Her long, graceful fingers danced over the girl’s sex, teasing her protruding clitoris, occasionally probing into the opening as Colleen’s expectant lips slowly parted. Colleen shifted her hips a little, insinuated one of her feet against Elizabeth’s sex, wriggled her toes into the moist gap. She could feel Elizabeth, wet and so hot she was like a furnace against Colleen’s own skin, and her eyes were glistening and wet. Elizabeth dropped her foot behind the wooden railing and pushed forward. The deck locker squeaked as Colleen gently rocked her hips, pushing towards Elizabeth’s fingers, seek
ing the illicit touch. Elizabeth rocked with her, pelvis pressing downwards, riding as if she was on a horse, grinding herself against Colleen’s foot, then sliding onto her shinbone. Elizabeth made soft sounds, her hips moving with increasing urgency, all the while her fingers played along the folds of Colleen’s pussy, slipping underneath, making her move her own hips.
“I want to fuck you,” Elizabeth said, her voice suddenly full of want. Hearing those words from Elizabeth’s soft lips filled Colleen with fire.
“Yes, fuck me,” Colleen agreed, gasping then as Elizabeth’s fingers probed further, as, for a moment she buried them completely. Then the wonderful fingers were gone and Colleen felt Elizabeth’s weight shift again.
She waited patiently, wanting, needing, as Elizabeth rooted in the locker and came out with a bright red … sausage-shaped dildo? At first Colleen felt a little confused, moved pliantly as, little by little Elizabeth reposition herself, worming her way between Colleen’s spread thighs, pulling at her hips until her pussy came into contact with the girl’s own heated sex, two intertwined scissors. Colleen watched with increasing trepidation as Elizabeth positioned the dildo at the entrance of her sex, pushed, swallowed greedily. “Now you,” she whispered, gently prodding Colleen’s wetness with the other end of the dildo. Colleen bore against it, letting the soft rubber fill her, pushing until her inflamed lips once more kissed Elizabeth’s.
“With me,” were Elizabeth’s only words as she pressed deeper on to Colleen. Colleen responded, filled with awe at this newly discovered pleasure. Soon the two found a beautiful rhythm, mashing together until they became a swamp of heat and desire. It took only a little while before Colleen discovered she could crush her clitoris against Elizabeth’s pubic bone. Each exquisite ‘bump’ brought forth a tiny whimper. On and on the two gyrated, each encouraged by the groans of the other. The slap of wet flesh against wet flesh, the wicked squelching of the dildo breaking through drove Colleen crazy. She rapidly picked up the pace; frantically racing towards the release denied her for so long.
Girl Fun One Page 4