“You really do have perfect breasts you know. The shape looks like something from a text book, and they’re a perfect size for you.”
“I don’t think much about them really,” said Lauren, watching Emma’s fingers circle the nipple.
“Your nipples become hard so quickly.”
“Mmm, I noticed that. But yours do too.”
Emma touched herself, tweaking a nipple between her fingers. “I love it when someone kisses them or takes them between their lips. You’ve done that a few times and it has sent me wild.”
“Isn’t it weird, that when Steven did that it really didn’t do much for me. It was more interesting than arousing. I could see it even getting annoying after a while.”
“Oh, sometimes it’s all I think I need, just a cuddle and someone resting on my chest, licking my nipples.”
“But you couldn’t come just with that, could you?”
“No, but that’s not always important. Perhaps that’s where we’re different?” said Emma, her fingers running along Lauren’s stomach.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you prefer someone licking your pussy, or having sex with you. And I don’t think it’s just because it’s new to you. When I see you make love there’s a natural rhythm and understanding that you have, like you’re dancing to the music from your partner. With me it’s more physical, not so sensuous.”
“But when you were on top of Steven in the lounge I remember that you seemed to be choreographed, in harmony with him.”
“That’s just practice. But you sense what’s required and create variations along the way. I just do the same thing most of the time.”
“You’ve taught me so much. And I have discovered so much about myself,” said Lauren, leaning over to kiss Emma’s nipple. They sank down deeper into each other’s arms, wrapped together tightly. Emma reached down and dragged the sheet up over them to cover their waists.
“Mmm, nice and cozy,” said Lauren.
“What was the best bit?” said Emma.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Lauren, looking away.
“For me it was when we were on the sofa, the second night, when I pushed my fingers into your knickers and felt how wet you were.”
“Why then?”
“Oh, a thousand reasons. I knew then that we trusted each other, that you wanted to go on, that I could bring you to orgasm, that you were wet, gorgeous and so reciprocating.”
“All with one touch,” said Lauren, kissing her ear.
“Are you sure you don’t have a favorite bit?”
“You’d be shocked?”
“Was I there at the time?”
“Oh yes.”
“Does it have something to do with your bottom?”
“How did you know?”
“Because I know something about you. It’s OK, your bottom is more important in your make up than mine is to me. Everyone is different.”
“It’s just so unbelievably rude, yet such a different feeling. Up until this week I have never touched it, except with toilet paper.”
“Your eyes glaze over when someone licks it. It’s even more dramatic than when I lick your pussy.”
“That would be my number two sensation.”
“You have a lovely pussy. It’s so delicate, so inviting.”
Lauren laughed. “That’s funny.”
“Why?”
“I think we must be very similar,” said Lauren
Chapter 11
Steven turned right out of the driveway and headed up along the coast road towards Mike and Polly’s summer house, not a pothole or postman in sight. It was at least half a mile to their neighbours but the land between the properties was owned by the local council and anyone could walk over the dunes and enjoy the sea, although few did. The stretch of coastline where these beach properties were located was barren, desolate but certainly not without beauty. He thought Mike and Polly had bought their place at the same time as he and Emma, about two years ago, but it was only recently that they had bumped into each other and discovered they were neighbors.
He chatted to Mike and Polly for a few minutes and invited them round for lunch the following day. Mike asked if their son Julian could accompany them and Steven said that he and Emma would be delighted. He mentioned that Cynthia and Gerald would be there along with their daughter but the house would accommodate such a crowd for lunch with little problem if they picnicked on the beach.
Steven carried on up past Mike’s property, curious as to what might be beyond the small rise in the road. He found a small patch of woodland and more dunes, a property about half a mile away in the distance and dunes, grass and waves as far as he could see. He returned home and entered the house where Emma was sitting in the lounge, reading.
“Met with Mike and Polly, they’re coming tomorrow for lunch, seemed happy to catch up again.”
“OK, so with Gerald and Cynthia that will be seven of us.”
“Eight. Their son is up here with them.”
“Oh, about Lori’s age if I recall?” said Emma, grinning.
He looked at her and understood her meaning then rolled his eyes. “Haven’t we done enough?”
“This will be her first test, see how much she’s learned!” laughed Emma, touching his leg.
“Well you had better tell her then, but let her make the decision, we can’t push her to do anything.”
“OK, I’ll go and tell her now, before her parents get back.”
Emma did indeed let Lauren know about the boy next door and between them they hatched a plot so that Lauren could stay a few more days at Emma and Steven’s house while her parents went home. Lauren’s parents returned from their trip at about eight o’clock that evening and spent at least twenty minutes telling their hosts of the wonderful time they had in the cathedral and town.
As the evening wore on Lauren nagged her parents by suggesting that her time at the house would most likely be the only holiday she would have that summer and by using other half-truths they finally agreed that as long as it was OK with Steven and Emma then she could stay and return home with them. Steven made a point of checking with Emma that they had enough food for those few days and then let Cynthia know that they would be delighted if Lauren stayed.
The following day Lauren helped Emma in the kitchen to prepare food for their lunchtime picnic while Gerald and Steven moved deck chairs and blankets from the house out to the dunes, placing them in the very spot where Emma had slept while he and Lauren had crept up to the house to shower a few days earlier.
The kitchen had a homely smell of roast chicken from early in the morning as Emma cooked a large bird which was going to be carved and served cold with salad, new potatoes and cole slaw. Gerald and Cynthia had bought a cake back from Ely which would be used for dessert, along with fresh fruit and cheese and biscuits. At ten past twelve there was a knock at the front door and Steven greeted the guests with handshakes before leading them into the lounge to meet Gerald and Cynthia. Emma guided Lauren out of the kitchen and the greetings began again. Steven and Emma though were each analyzing the handshake between Lauren and Julian, who smiled at her and announced to all that her preferred to be called Jules. He was slightly taller than Lauren, with short, thick blonde hair which looked like it had been bleached by the sun. His broad shoulders filled his sports shirt and Lauren concealed her curiosity as she glanced past her outstretched hand to the bump in the boy’s trousers.
Steven served wine and sherry to the guests while Lauren and Emma went back to the kitchen to arrange plates and cutlery.
Grinning, Emma whispered into Lauren’s ear. “So, a very nice boy, eh?”
Lauren shrugged her shoulders, not prepared to commit to an opinion, although after struggling to remain serious for a few seconds, burst into a smile and nodded. “Yeah, quite nice I suppose!”
“Nice and slowly then, no hurry now that you’re here for a few more days.” Lauren nodded and counted out eight sets of knives and forks an
d laid them on the wooden tray. “Remember what I said, that you know far more than he does but you can’t let on, OK?” Lauren nodded, briefly laying her head on Emma’s shoulder in response to the advice.
Cynthia joined them in the kitchen, looking to lend a helping hand. She was put in charge of condiments and gathered together the vinegar, salad cream and salt before taking them down the little path and arranging them on the one of the tablecloths that had been laid out for lunch. Even in the kitchen the conversation from the guests was loud with passionate views being exchanged, led by Steven.
“There’s such an enormous rearmament going on, Germany’s been building up its capability for the past five years. It’s way more than a defensive force.”
Mike was only partially in agreement however. “Yes, but we all know that Chamberlain is appeasing every petty dictator in return for almost nothing. Look at Italy and Ethiopia.”
“I don’t understand what he did there, he just seemed to give up and the only country to benefit was Spain.”
Gerald too had his views which centered around the German air force assisting the fascists in Spain. “That’s been going on for several years, just think of how skilled those pilots are!”
“Right, and that’s why we see our defence forces taking part in drills against gas attacks. Don’t forget, and future war will involve air forces as well as ground troops and naval forces.”
“Hmm, and then there’s the Japanese and Chinese. And Italy’s Mussolini, it’s as though we’re just waiting for all the wars to join up.”
Julian wandered out into the kitchen. He had his own opinion but didn’t feel confident in expressing himself when he knew the views of only his parents. “Need anything done?” he asked, glancing over at Lauren then smiling at Emma.
“Oh yes, could you and Lauren take the chicken out, but keep it covered so the flies don’t get to it?” They took a plate each and wandered out and down the path, passing Julian’s mother as she returned to the house.
“So much talk of war, it’s quite depressing,” said Lauren, opening the gate with her foot.
“Yeah, it’s going to get worse before it gets better, I think,” said Julian seriously.
“Are you at University?”
“Yeah, Witney, doing Physics, second year, what about you?”
“First year in Economics. The course is great, the people are horrible,” said Lauren as she put the chicken down on the tablecloth.
“Why, what’s wrong with them?”
Lauren shrugged. “I’ll explain later maybe.”
They went back up towards the house but were met by everyone else coming down to lunch so they turned and took a place in the dunes, ready for lunch.
Steven came up to Lauren and smiled at her. “Are you allowed wine with your lunch Lauren?”
She looked across to her mother who checked with Gerald and then nodded. “Just a half a glass, OK?”
“Thanks Mum!” said Lauren, clearly relieved that she hadn’t been embarrassed in front of the crowd. When each guest had a drink Steven raised his glass and toasted ‘to good friends’ and everyone clinked their glasses in agreement. Lauren was sitting next to Julian and took great pleasure in touching his glass gently while she looked at him. He was shy, looking away with discomfort but that only served to encourage Lauren in her mission to get to know him better.
After desert Lauren lay back on the dune and closed her eyes. She wanted to talk to Julian about university and life in general, as well as find out if he had any interest in her. She glanced occasionally at the gentle waves and the gulls as they circled in the warm breeze, wondering what she could suggest to justify taking a walk. She blew out her breath in an un-ladylike fashion as the talk turned again to war.
“Julian, why don’t you help clear some of these things up then go and look for some driftwood for me?” said his mother.
Lauren opened one eye and saw him slowly get to his feet then reach down with athletic ease to get the first two plates. He gathered two more and piled knives and forks on top. “Hey, I’ll help,” said Lauren, knowing that her mother was likely to volunteer her anyway. She collected the remainder of the plates and cutlery from the first course and walked behind Julian to the house.
“More war talk,” said Lauren.
“Yeah, slightly more interesting than driftwood though,” he said, smiling at her.
“Your mother collects it?”
“Sort of. She gets bundles of the stuff when we visit here, then it sits in the garage until it’s thrown out. She once made a flower arrangement using a lump of bark, so now she needs more just in case.”
“Do you think we should wash these?” she asked, nodding at the plates.
Julian looked out of the window and down towards the party. A couple of heads were just visible over the dunes. “No, let’s just stack them neatly.”
They walked back out to the party and then Julian let them know that they were going to look for wood.
“Make sure you don’t get those sandals wet Lauren, won’t you.”
“Yes Mum.”
“We’ll wait for you to return before we have desert, OK?” said Emma, smiling at Lauren. She heard Steven take up the conversation immediately, warding off any additional comment as they wandered off towards the sea. The damp sand was about fifty yards from the party and well out of earshot.
“I wouldn’t think there’s much wood washed up around here,” said Lauren, scanning the shoreline.
“You’d be surprised, it comes from miles away, usually really smooth, worn away by the sand and the sea.”
“So which way, north or south?”
“Let’s head north towards our place as my mother hasn’t searched that area.”
There was nothing visible as far as she could see except a few large shells. She bent down to pick one up as larger than usual wave rapidly moved up the sand. She squealed, laughing as she ran away from it. “If I get the sandals wet my Mum will kill me. They’re expensive and the leather take ages to dry.” She sat down on the warm sand and unbuckled the sandals. She was aware that she was showing her legs well past her knees and that Julian had stolen at least two glances. “I’ll leave them here and collect them on the way back.” She reached out to him and he helped her to her feet. “Thanks,” she said, sensing that he was a little embarrassed to have touched her hand.
They walked further north at a slow, leisurely pace along the deserted shore, sometimes stopping to examine shells but the stretch of sand was devoid of driftwood. The beach was broken slightly further ahead by an outcropping of dunes and one or two rocks and Julian headed slightly inland to investigate.
He climbed the nearest rock and waited for Lauren to arrive before offering her his hand and some assistance to get up. She really didn’t need any help at all but she willingly accepted his hand and then wobbled slightly as she stood next to him, making her need to put her arm around his waist seem natural. It also seemed a reasonable stretch of the imagination to Lauren when she stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
“Thanks!” she said, beaming at him. He looked shocked, as though the rock was suddenly far too small for both of them. She looked up the coastline, ignoring his slight discomfort then turned to him again. “I don’t see any driftwood, do you?”
“No, I don’t think we’re going to find any today,” he replied, gazing back the way they had come.
Lauren jumped down into the dunes and laughed loudly as she rolled over the sand and came to a rest on her back. She was fairly sure that he would have had another flash of her legs when she landed on the soft warm sand. He grinned and jumped down too, rolling with a little more elegance than she had. He lay down on the sand next to her while Lauren sat with her arms around her knees. She looked down at him and smiled, wondering whether the sand had got into his blonde hair.
“How long are you up here for?”
“Three more days, we’ll go back Saturday afternoon. What about you?”
“The
same I think. My parents go back tonight, but I’ll get a lift from the Lazenby’s when they leave.”
“That’s good that your parents allow you to stay here.”
Lauren smiled. “I arrived five days earlier than I was meant to and they’ve been so wonderful. I think I disrupted their holiday.”
“Five days earlier? How did you get here?”
“Train, then Mr. Lazenby collected me from the station. I wrote to them telling them I’d be early.”
“So you skipped lectures?”
Lauren told him the story of her nightmare journey but left out the part where she had become filthy overnight and the way she must have smelled to everyone in the carriage. She wanted to elicit maximum sympathy from him and although she had decided to look miserable as she told the story there was actually no need for theatrics. The pain of the journey and her isolation and helplessness were all too real. She didn’t cry but her voice faltered occasionally with the desired effect. She noted that while she was telling his her tales of woe he had stood on the pretense of hearing something then sat back down, closer to her.
“Anyway, morbid subject, but thanks for listening,” she said, touching his arm. Her fingers dwelled for several seconds longer than necessary.
“You poor girl,” he said. He stretched his arms out, or that was what Lauren assumed he was doing, and she deliberately misinterpreted his movement as a welcoming sign. She moved the few remaining inches over to him and rested her head on his chest.
“Oh!” said Julian, genuinely surprised. She could hear his heart beating furiously in his chest and smiled to herself, taking note too of the shape of his beach shorts for later comparison although she thought he was hard already.
“This is what they do at my uni, they lie around cuddling and all I can do is walk past.”
He said nothing but his arm moved around her shoulder, poised to pull her into his arms. She thought of Steven and Emma and recalled what Emma said about moving slowly. Along with those words of wisdom Emma had also reminded her that Julian might not be a nice boy at all and that she should trust her instincts.
Lauren's Love Lessons (Yesteryear Erotica Book 1) Page 17