Helene
I’m Selina and am a student at an expensive junior college for girls – a finishing school, located in southern New England. I just turned nineteen and am told I am as pretty as a doll, with shoulder-length dark curly hair and deep large brown eyes. I have a statuesque body: five feet eight and a thin athletic build, small breasts and long shapely legs. With my height and build my tear-drop shape tits are even more noticeable than is warranted by their actual size (32A). I get quite a lot of attention at my all-girl school, with its female-only teaching and support staff. Some of this attention is from other girls in my own class, and, just recently, I have noticed some from a few of my teachers as well!
I am sexually inexperienced, but I know enough to know what these looks mean, and what would follow if I chose to encourage and respond to them. As it is, I tend to be a little more flirtatious when I get these signals because they just give me a kind of electric buzz all over. I am not completely naive, and I’m not still a virgin. Last summer, Jane, my best-friend here at school, came to stay at my house for a couple of weeks. We became close sexually and had begun masturbating each other – it was so much more fun than doing it to yourself! However, in her enthusiasm, Jane pushed her fingers into me a bit too far and took my virginity
My favorite subject is art and the classes here are giving me more skill and understanding in matters like composition, the use of a palette of colors, and so on. The art teacher for my class this year is Helene, and I really like her. She is a little over thirty, though it’s hard to tell; she is a redhead, with a lovely mane of orange hair, and has quite a nice figure – I think she must work out in the gym, for, as far as one can tell under her smart skirt-and-jacket suits, her stomach is flat and her shapely butt and legs are completely free of any flab.
Helene has been complimenting my art work for some time, and helping me to improve it. Sometimes, when she stands close behind me and takes hold of my hand, guiding my pencil or paintbrush to show me the effect that she means, I can feel her small breasts rubbing my back and I feel quite nervous and flustered, especially when she glances at me with a knowing sort of smile. Jane said a week or two ago, as we lay on her bed in the two-person room which we share (the school tries to put friends together as roommates if possible), that she thinks Helene is into me, but I was doubtful. At the time I wasn’t really taking in what Jane was saying, we had discarded our panties and pulled our skirts up around our waists, and our fingers were gently massaging up and down the length of each other’s moist pussy lips. One reason for my dismissing her notion was that there is a kind of unwritten rule at the school that the teachers don’t get involved students. But after she mentioned Helene, I began to imagine that it was her fingers inside my pussy. And then I began to hope that Jane was right.
Last week, Helene offered to give me some special tuition out of the normal classroom hours, on Tuesday and Thursday evenings; she said that she always had preparation work to do in the art studio for at least an hour after dinner (which is from 6.00 to 7.00 p.m.), and it wouldn’t be any bother at all – I could spend more time on my pictures, and get up to a higher standard. I was ever so keen and grateful, eagerly accepting her offer and thanking her profusely; I love sketching and painting, and it honestly never crossed my mind that she had an ulterior purpose. And then, I went there for the second, Thursday, session.
It took me the first ten minutes to complete the crayon sketch I had begun, under her guidance, in the first of these private extra sessions. It was a still life of a vase with some flowers, and when I was done Helene came over to look at it. She made a number of useful points but in general was complimentary, and she concluded by giving me an appraising look and declaring that she thought I had a lot of potential, which made me glow with pleasure.
“Well, Selina, I think you are ready to try something new – something a little more advanced”, said Helene.
I was flattered and intrigued, and asked what she meant. Her reply was that the greater challenge was to draw something that was alive, and the human body most of all – getting the shape and musculature to look convincing was the real test of an artist.
“You really need to draw a nude, Selina – it’s the best practice there is.”
I gaped at her – I know my mouth was hanging open in surprise – and for a moment I wondered if she was joking, but she was looking at me quite seriously, as if such a thing was perfectly normal. I was excited at the prospect, so many of the great artists had sketched and painted nude figures. However, I pointed out that we didn’t have a model. Helene looked at me again, and then with a smile explained that we did – she would be my model! I was thunderstruck, and I felt a tingling throughout my body, thinking back to fantasizing about having sex with her. Helene went on to say that she wouldn’t be completely nude, but that I would draw her from the waist up.
As I stood rooted to the spot, finding it hard to breathe. Helene locked the door. Turning back to me and smiling, she explained that we could not have any interruptions. I nodded, still mute with surprise, and then watched dry-mouthed as Helene slipped off her soft purple cashmere sweater. Her nipples were hard and poked through her pale lilac silk blouse. She gently pulled her blouse from her slacks and slowly began to unbutton it. She had turned her back to me and let her blouse fall from her shoulders as she unbuttoned it. Soon her back was bare except for a black bra. Helene carefully folded her blouse and turned to face me. She faced me again, wearing only her smart and tight black knee-length pencil skirt above that was only a quite skimpy black demi-cup balcony bra, which pushed up her small, but gorgeous breasts and left her nipples partially visible. Helene cleared the few things on her desk away to another table, and then she called me over. Turning her back, she casually asked me if I wanted to remove her bra. I could feel my panties getting wetter as I whispered that I would love to. It took my fumbling fingers three attempts to release it and every time my fingertips touched the flesh of her back it was like getting an electric jolt. Finally, the bra fell away – I was left holding the thin gauzy fabric, still warm from her body.
I gasped softly as Helene turned round. Her soft breasts sat proudly on her chest; her dark nipples oozed sex. As she shook her head to settle her bright red hair, her breasts bounced and jiggled in a provocatively erotic way. Needing somewhere else to look, I glanced down at her bra, and noticed that, like me, she was a 32C.
“What do you think?”
“Oh, God; they’re gorgeous.”
Helene sat back on her desk, crossing her legs – her black skirt made a striking contrast with her tanned, naked flesh. Then she put her hands out behind her to brace herself in the pose, which had the consequence of thrusting her breasts upwards and outwards to give me a three-quarter profile viewpoint. She told me to ignore her face, and to concentrate on drawing her body from her skirt waist up to her shoulders and neck. Of course, by far the most prominent subject would be her breasts. So, they became my primary focus; I was drawn back to their beauty again and again as I tried to capture their confident jut, and a sense of their softness. After a half hour of quiet work, during which my skin began to tingle all over and my panties got wetter and wetter, Helene asked me to bring my sketch over to her so she could inspect my progress.
“Hmm, not bad Selina, not bad at all, especially for a first effort,” was her encouraging verdict. She explained how to shade in the area around the base of the neck and shoulders to suggest both the delicacy and yet the strength of the bones beneath. Then, as she traced her finger over the outline of her breasts, she shook her head a little.
“I don’t think you are getting the breasts quite right. To draw something, you need to understand it, to really know it – that’s why drawing something from photographs rather than life never works as well. Here,” she continued, “feel the texture – really feel what my breasts feel like.”
She took my trembling right hand and placed it on her breast, covering her incredibly hard and firm nipple. Helene then looked me directly in the eyes, and whispered unflinchingly and challengingly:
“Go on, Selina, get to know what you are drawing.” It was dawning upon me that she was suggesting something much more. Hesitantly, conscious of the warmth of her body and the smooth texture of her skin, I moved my hand around her breast, and I offered resistance as she took my other hand and placed it on her other breast. I traced my fingers around her aureoles, admiring the stiff pinkness of her extended nipples, and then cupped her breasts in my hands.
“Good ... that’s very good, Selina, you’re getting the idea.”
Well, yes, I was ... and it was making me quite hot and bothered. Between my legs, I could feel my pussy -- warm and sweaty and moist, and my own nipples were stiffening as the palms of my hands rubbed once again across my teacher’s tits. Then, as I began to suspect, she took things further.
“To capture the essence of something you must open up all your senses, Selina; not just sight, and even not just touch as well – you need to taste them, to smell them!”
Helene reached gently behind my head, and drew my face down towards her breasts. She guided my mouth to the nipple of her right breast, and it just seemed the most natural thing in the world for my lips to part, and let her dark nipple slide between my lips, for my tongue to seek it, lick around and across it. Instinctively, I began to suck and nibble as well. I was rewarded by the groan of pleasure that Helene gave, her back arched, pushing her nipple against my mouth. uncrossed her legs and spread them. From the corner of my eye I saw that as she spread her legs, her skirt began to ride up to her thighs.
As my licking and sucking became more confident, my surprise evaporated and I could feel my erotic side begin to emerge. I gave in to the desire to explore Helene’s body. Helene gently stroked my hair and murmured sweet encouragements. She spread her legs wider, and her skirt rode up until her panties became visible – sheer black, of course. Then, she continued her lesbian seduction. Her hands reached for the buttons of my slacks and she began to unbutton me.
I pulled away from her breasts. “Don’t stop” she whispered, “Just let this happen.”
I felt her hands pull my slacks over my hips and felt them fall down my legs. I stepped out of them, and Helene pulled me between her legs. I felt her hand caress the inside of my thighs. “Selina, do you realize how wet you are? Your thighs are slick with your juices.” “You have no idea how horny I am right now” I whispered. “I think I do” Helene said.
“Kiss me.” Helene to my face in her hands and brought her lips to mine. At first, she barely grazed my lips. “I love first kisses” she whispered. Her tongue traced around my lips, teasing me. Then her tongue slipped between my lips and I opened my mouth, inviting her. And then our kiss became that of lovers. Our tongues found each other’s, and I felt myself desperately wanting Helene to want me. I felt her hand slip up my thighs and she pressed her hand on top of my panties, cupping my pussy mound and my pussy. Her touch was so gentle; I shivered at the eroticism of the moment. I reached around Helene and began to softly stroke her back. And the I felt her fingers slip between my pussy lips, pushing the fabric of my panties into my slit. I pulled away from our kiss and nestled my face into her shoulder as she teased my pussy. I began to moan softly as I became more and more aroused.
“Oh god, that feels so good” I panted.
Helene then pulled my mouth back to hers and kissed me firmly and passionately – a real sexual kiss, a kiss of desire, a kiss saying “I’m going to fuck you.” This brought a liberating sensation of pure pleasure and I knew that this was what I wanted. I wanted Helene to fuck me and I wanted it now.
All through this, Helene’s hand stroked the crotch of my panties. Then with a nimble twist of her fingers, she slipped them around and inside the gusset. For the first time I felt the incredible pleasure of the penetrating fingertips of an experienced and confident lesbian woman.
Helene jerked my panties several inches down off my hips, so that they hung across between my legs, halfway up my thighs. Her fingers pressed on the flesh on both sides of my pussy, and squeezed my pussy lips together. I moaned as a wave of sexual desire washed through me.
Almost without thinking I let my panties fall to the floor and pressed myself further between Helene’s legs. Her skirt slipped further up her hips now baring most of her panties. I slipped a hand up the dark opening of Helene’s skirt, gently stroking the insides of her thighs. My hand teased her pussy as I went from thigh to thigh. I could feel the heat of her arousal and how wet her panties had become. I really wanted to excite Helene, so I pressed my hand against the gauzy fabric of panties that matched her bra. Following her lead, I pressed my fingers into her slit, pushing the fabric of her panties up and down her slit. As the fabric teased her clit Helene gasped. “Do you want me to stop?” I whispered.
Helene’s answer was to shift position slightly and then ask me to unbutton and unzip her skirt. When I had done so, she lifted her bottom up from the desk for a moment. Without being told I pulled the skirt down her legs and dropped it on a chair behind me. Now Helene was completely naked except for her panties. I looked up at her to see a face of erotic lust. It said she wanted to fuck me and get fucked by me. She slid off the desk to stand with her buttocks resting against its rim, her feet spread quite wide apart. Then she reached for the waistband of her panties to slide them off.
“No; let me …”
She withdrew her hands as I began to tease her panties down her legs as slowly as I could. I kissed the flesh of her thighs as her panties fell further down her legs.
And then Helene was naked.
She placed her hands on my shoulder and, with gentle pressure, communicated that I should kneel between her legs, and she drew my face towards her pussy. I was amazed – as much as I had fantasized about her, never had I thought that I would be about to fuck her, never mind enjoying it so much! It spoke to something inside me, and released something in me and suddenly I was consumed by a raging wave of lesbian desire. Helen leaned back onto her desk a bit, pushing her pussy more toward me. She spread her lips with her fingers, opening her pinkness to me. I could see her thick juices oozing like lava from her lips and beginning to run onto her thighs.
“Go ahead …” she whispered.
Her pussy was gorgeous. Trim lips, now puffed with desire were now spread, showing the way to her opening. Her clit had started to peek from under its smooth hood. I was now on erotic overload and my juices began to erupt from my drenched vagina. Tentatively, I began to lick up and down her slit. She was delicious! My tongue slipped inside her which drew a sharp gasp of desire. As my togue probed her depths, my thumb found Helene’s clit and began to flick it as my tongue probed. My art teacher’s breathing turned to rasping pants and gulps of air, in between which she exhorted me go deeper, to work her over harder. I watched as her stomach muscles contracted and pushed her hip against my face.
When my other hand reached around her and a finger began to rim her anal passage, she began to use dirty words, increasingly incoherently, as her shoulders shook and her ripe breasts swayed above my head. And then I slipped my finger into her to the first knuckle.
‘Fuck, Selina, yes – go for it, yes, just like that. I love your finger in my ass! Push your hot tongue further inside me! Oh, God ….”
Her sobs and moans became a crescendo, her whole body began to vibrate and tremble; then as she came, soft warm juices splashed onto my tongue and across my cheeks. As she subsided, I brought my head up for air, sticky but exultant – I just made Helene come. I had fucked my art teacher!
I felt the sweat on my back and breasts, and most of all was aware of the unfulfilled burning desire down between my legs. I reached down for my panties that were already at half-mast and slid them down my legs and kicked them aside. Before I had the chance to unbutton my shirt, Helene drew me back into her arms for a loving kiss, and then she took over. Her fingers flew down the front of my shirt, nimbly opening every button and then slipping it backwards off my shoulders. She reached round behind my back to unsnap my plain white cotton bra and let it fall onto the pile of my discarded clothes.
And just like that, I was naked.
Helene slipped her hand between my legs again, and teased her fingertips along my labia, sliding just an inch or so inside me. I sensed her caution and reluctance and asked her what the problem was. Her reply was to ask if I was still a virgin. I told her not to worry – I wasn’t a virgin, though I had very little experience of being penetrated.
“Ah, did young Jane pop your lesbian cherry? I do hope she isn’t going to get jealous about this.”
Her casual comment sent my thoughts swirling. Did Jane actually fancy me that way, and our fumblings were those of lesbian lovers? That thought was pulsatingly exciting.
“No, she won’t be,” I said, “she’s already guessed that you were into me.” Then I continued, with a new decisiveness: “I hope this is going to happen every Tuesday and Thursday evening?” “If you want it to” Helene said with a smiling confirmatory nod. “So she’ll have to accept it, because I’m not giving this up, and I’m not giving her up either!” I wanted my friend to be my girlfriend, but I also wanted to continue enjoying sex with Helene.
“Well now,” said Helene, “since you’re not a virgin, then I know just the thing for you, my new lover!”
She went to a locked store cupboard and withdrew an oblong tin box, rather like a cash box. Once this was unlocked, I saw its contents and gasped – just because I had never seen one before didn’t stop instant recognition. it was obviously a strap-on dildo, except it looked just like a guy’s dick.
Helene brought it over in her hand, and gently pushed me to where she had previously stood. My ass pressed against the rim of the desk, my legs about two feet apart. Holding the large plastic phallus by its base, she pressed its bulbous knob against my pussy and rubbed it quite firmly up and down my slit. I shuddered, a thread of fear running through me. I could tell how intensely Helene wanted to give me this, wanted to take me with its shiny plastic length. Her eyes glittered, her cheeks were flushed and her features had a rigid edge, as she rubbed it against me with greater insistence. She leaned close, her breasts compressed against mine. Her hot breath was in my ears as she whispered in a throaty rasp:
“Do you want this? Do you want it? Tell me, and I’ll take you!”
I babbled my consent – more than that, my desperate eagerness:
“Oh Helene, yes; I just want you to fuck me … please. How do you want to take me? just do me ... please, now!’
Her delight at the way I had been transformed into a total wanton lesbian slut was apparent, and she kissed me hungrily whilst one hand pushed the dildo an inch or so into me, making me gasp at how it stretched my pussy. Helene broke away and took a step back, and then stepped into the harness of the strap-on and tightened its buckles. I felt another tinge of apprehension as its full size was revealed. I had never seen a guy’s dick so big. Helene looked incredibly sexy wearing a cock, and at the prospect of what I was about to receive I felt my knees go rubbery and fluids seep from my pussy down my inner thighs.
At first, Helene left me in position facing her, so that I could see everything. She sat me on the desk with my legs spread open, and she brought the tip of the dildo to brush against my distended labia. Then, she took a firm grip on my hips and pressed it inwards, not so much forcefully as with a firm and confident pressure. My vaginal tube opened up for her, stretching to a capacity I never dreamed that I had, although I felt incredibly filled and stretched in the process. And as she entered me all the breath was driven from my lungs and I just gasped. Actually, she had only gone in maybe three inches, and she flexed her hips to pull the shaft most of the way back – but not right out – and then stroked it in again with the same calm assurance. My eyes nearly bugged out as I saw it sink in further, at least another inch, and even more when the next insertion entered me further still. She adopted a steady rhythm, and then began to speed it up – in response, my legs arched further apart and my pussy stretched wider, until unbelievably the whole length of the thing – all seven inches went into me with every thrust.
Helene continued like this for a dozen or so deep thrusts, carefully watching my face to gauge my reactions. She cupped my breasts in both of her hands and squeezed my nipples, making me get even looser and wetter. Then Helene withdrew her cock all the way out of my pussy and gestured for me to turn round. And, suddenly I knew, with a rush of lust, what was next. She braced me on the desk – I gripped the further edge with my hands, and rested my forehead on the wood, which allowed me an amazing view backwards, through the gap between my hanging and swinging breasts, down my stomach to my mound, where I saw her reinsert the dildo. My legs were now spread wider apart, and she took a firm grip around my waist and began to drill her cock in and out, rapidly reaching a much faster and harder tempo than when I had been facing her. I began to gasp for breath as the angle of her penetrations made the ridges of the dildo rasp over my clit, driving me nearly insane with desire. Suddenly, one of her hands left my hips and seized my hair, jerking my head upwards and backwards, arching my spine and lifting my chest off the desk. Her thrusts became even firmer, and her other hand reached round to grab one of my jiggling breasts. Helene was slamming the dildo into me so hard that I was almost being lifted off my feet by its impact, and I gave a hoarse scream as I climaxed – my thighs trembled, my hips bucked frantically back against her pile-driving impalement, sweat poured down to pool in the small of my back, my nipples felt like they were on fire, and my whole body shook from top to toes in an explosive orgasm – my first real one, my first true fucking by a woman.
I slumped down on the desk, my stomach slicked with sweat, floundering and gasping for air like a landed fish. With real tenderness, Helene stroked and massaged my back – I shall always remember her loving gentleness in that moment of extraordinary calm after the passing of the raging storm. She traced her fingers down my spine, and rubbed in gentle circles around the small of my back, even as she moved her hips and gently slid the length of the dildo out of my battered but electrified vagina. Leaning forwards, she kissed the back of my neck, then each shoulder blade, and then down my back, as I luxuriated in her tender care and the knowledge that I was truly now a woman – who had the knowledge of what it was to be fucked to climax.
I laid there blissfully for a few moments, aware that Helene had removed the strap-on, wiping it with a damp cloth and drying it before restoring it to its box and cupboard. I knew that she knew I was looking at her body with desire, the lust of a lover who is already beginning to count the minutes until next time. She smiled back at me, enjoying in her turn the delectable view I presented, with my legs still spread open and my butt up in the air. I realized that it was an incredible compliment, that she had found me so attractive and so sexually desirable.
Helene handed me a towel and I dried off my sweat, enough at least to be able to put my underwear and clothes back on for long enough to walk through the halls and corridors back my room – and Jane, where I could wash off the sex. I would tell Jane all about it, of course, under oath of secrecy; after lights-out time, in bed together, naked and with our legs entwined and pussies rubbing against each other, and I would stick my fingers deep inside her as I did so, matching my account of Helene’s dildo penetrations with a finger-fucking of my roommate’s pussy and clit at the same time.
Before I left the art studio, Helene and I kissed again, and once more she slipped her hand underneath my skirt, giving my mound a caress and a possessive squeeze. As my lips parted in a little moan from the pleasure induced by my teacher’s touch, she kissed my neck and then said, her eyes dancing with merry delight:
“See you Tuesday!”
I am sexually inexperienced, but I know enough to know what these looks mean, and what would follow if I chose to encourage and respond to them. As it is, I tend to be a little more flirtatious when I get these signals because they just give me a kind of electric buzz all over. I am not completely naive, and I’m not still a virgin. Last summer, Jane, my best-friend here at school, came to stay at my house for a couple of weeks. We became close sexually and had begun masturbating each other – it was so much more fun than doing it to yourself! However, in her enthusiasm, Jane pushed her fingers into me a bit too far and took my virginity
My favorite subject is art and the classes here are giving me more skill and understanding in matters like composition, the use of a palette of colors, and so on. The art teacher for my class this year is Helene, and I really like her. She is a little over thirty, though it’s hard to tell; she is a redhead, with a lovely mane of orange hair, and has quite a nice figure – I think she must work out in the gym, for, as far as one can tell under her smart skirt-and-jacket suits, her stomach is flat and her shapely butt and legs are completely free of any flab.
Helene has been complimenting my art work for some time, and helping me to improve it. Sometimes, when she stands close behind me and takes hold of my hand, guiding my pencil or paintbrush to show me the effect that she means, I can feel her small breasts rubbing my back and I feel quite nervous and flustered, especially when she glances at me with a knowing sort of smile. Jane said a week or two ago, as we lay on her bed in the two-person room which we share (the school tries to put friends together as roommates if possible), that she thinks Helene is into me, but I was doubtful. At the time I wasn’t really taking in what Jane was saying, we had discarded our panties and pulled our skirts up around our waists, and our fingers were gently massaging up and down the length of each other’s moist pussy lips. One reason for my dismissing her notion was that there is a kind of unwritten rule at the school that the teachers don’t get involved students. But after she mentioned Helene, I began to imagine that it was her fingers inside my pussy. And then I began to hope that Jane was right.
Last week, Helene offered to give me some special tuition out of the normal classroom hours, on Tuesday and Thursday evenings; she said that she always had preparation work to do in the art studio for at least an hour after dinner (which is from 6.00 to 7.00 p.m.), and it wouldn’t be any bother at all – I could spend more time on my pictures, and get up to a higher standard. I was ever so keen and grateful, eagerly accepting her offer and thanking her profusely; I love sketching and painting, and it honestly never crossed my mind that she had an ulterior purpose. And then, I went there for the second, Thursday, session.
It took me the first ten minutes to complete the crayon sketch I had begun, under her guidance, in the first of these private extra sessions. It was a still life of a vase with some flowers, and when I was done Helene came over to look at it. She made a number of useful points but in general was complimentary, and she concluded by giving me an appraising look and declaring that she thought I had a lot of potential, which made me glow with pleasure.
“Well, Selina, I think you are ready to try something new – something a little more advanced”, said Helene.
I was flattered and intrigued, and asked what she meant. Her reply was that the greater challenge was to draw something that was alive, and the human body most of all – getting the shape and musculature to look convincing was the real test of an artist.
“You really need to draw a nude, Selina – it’s the best practice there is.”
I gaped at her – I know my mouth was hanging open in surprise – and for a moment I wondered if she was joking, but she was looking at me quite seriously, as if such a thing was perfectly normal. I was excited at the prospect, so many of the great artists had sketched and painted nude figures. However, I pointed out that we didn’t have a model. Helene looked at me again, and then with a smile explained that we did – she would be my model! I was thunderstruck, and I felt a tingling throughout my body, thinking back to fantasizing about having sex with her. Helene went on to say that she wouldn’t be completely nude, but that I would draw her from the waist up.
As I stood rooted to the spot, finding it hard to breathe. Helene locked the door. Turning back to me and smiling, she explained that we could not have any interruptions. I nodded, still mute with surprise, and then watched dry-mouthed as Helene slipped off her soft purple cashmere sweater. Her nipples were hard and poked through her pale lilac silk blouse. She gently pulled her blouse from her slacks and slowly began to unbutton it. She had turned her back to me and let her blouse fall from her shoulders as she unbuttoned it. Soon her back was bare except for a black bra. Helene carefully folded her blouse and turned to face me. She faced me again, wearing only her smart and tight black knee-length pencil skirt above that was only a quite skimpy black demi-cup balcony bra, which pushed up her small, but gorgeous breasts and left her nipples partially visible. Helene cleared the few things on her desk away to another table, and then she called me over. Turning her back, she casually asked me if I wanted to remove her bra. I could feel my panties getting wetter as I whispered that I would love to. It took my fumbling fingers three attempts to release it and every time my fingertips touched the flesh of her back it was like getting an electric jolt. Finally, the bra fell away – I was left holding the thin gauzy fabric, still warm from her body.
I gasped softly as Helene turned round. Her soft breasts sat proudly on her chest; her dark nipples oozed sex. As she shook her head to settle her bright red hair, her breasts bounced and jiggled in a provocatively erotic way. Needing somewhere else to look, I glanced down at her bra, and noticed that, like me, she was a 32C.
“What do you think?”
“Oh, God; they’re gorgeous.”
Helene sat back on her desk, crossing her legs – her black skirt made a striking contrast with her tanned, naked flesh. Then she put her hands out behind her to brace herself in the pose, which had the consequence of thrusting her breasts upwards and outwards to give me a three-quarter profile viewpoint. She told me to ignore her face, and to concentrate on drawing her body from her skirt waist up to her shoulders and neck. Of course, by far the most prominent subject would be her breasts. So, they became my primary focus; I was drawn back to their beauty again and again as I tried to capture their confident jut, and a sense of their softness. After a half hour of quiet work, during which my skin began to tingle all over and my panties got wetter and wetter, Helene asked me to bring my sketch over to her so she could inspect my progress.
“Hmm, not bad Selina, not bad at all, especially for a first effort,” was her encouraging verdict. She explained how to shade in the area around the base of the neck and shoulders to suggest both the delicacy and yet the strength of the bones beneath. Then, as she traced her finger over the outline of her breasts, she shook her head a little.
“I don’t think you are getting the breasts quite right. To draw something, you need to understand it, to really know it – that’s why drawing something from photographs rather than life never works as well. Here,” she continued, “feel the texture – really feel what my breasts feel like.”
She took my trembling right hand and placed it on her breast, covering her incredibly hard and firm nipple. Helene then looked me directly in the eyes, and whispered unflinchingly and challengingly:
“Go on, Selina, get to know what you are drawing.” It was dawning upon me that she was suggesting something much more. Hesitantly, conscious of the warmth of her body and the smooth texture of her skin, I moved my hand around her breast, and I offered resistance as she took my other hand and placed it on her other breast. I traced my fingers around her aureoles, admiring the stiff pinkness of her extended nipples, and then cupped her breasts in my hands.
“Good ... that’s very good, Selina, you’re getting the idea.”
Well, yes, I was ... and it was making me quite hot and bothered. Between my legs, I could feel my pussy -- warm and sweaty and moist, and my own nipples were stiffening as the palms of my hands rubbed once again across my teacher’s tits. Then, as I began to suspect, she took things further.
“To capture the essence of something you must open up all your senses, Selina; not just sight, and even not just touch as well – you need to taste them, to smell them!”
Helene reached gently behind my head, and drew my face down towards her breasts. She guided my mouth to the nipple of her right breast, and it just seemed the most natural thing in the world for my lips to part, and let her dark nipple slide between my lips, for my tongue to seek it, lick around and across it. Instinctively, I began to suck and nibble as well. I was rewarded by the groan of pleasure that Helene gave, her back arched, pushing her nipple against my mouth. uncrossed her legs and spread them. From the corner of my eye I saw that as she spread her legs, her skirt began to ride up to her thighs.
As my licking and sucking became more confident, my surprise evaporated and I could feel my erotic side begin to emerge. I gave in to the desire to explore Helene’s body. Helene gently stroked my hair and murmured sweet encouragements. She spread her legs wider, and her skirt rode up until her panties became visible – sheer black, of course. Then, she continued her lesbian seduction. Her hands reached for the buttons of my slacks and she began to unbutton me.
I pulled away from her breasts. “Don’t stop” she whispered, “Just let this happen.”
I felt her hands pull my slacks over my hips and felt them fall down my legs. I stepped out of them, and Helene pulled me between her legs. I felt her hand caress the inside of my thighs. “Selina, do you realize how wet you are? Your thighs are slick with your juices.” “You have no idea how horny I am right now” I whispered. “I think I do” Helene said.
“Kiss me.” Helene to my face in her hands and brought her lips to mine. At first, she barely grazed my lips. “I love first kisses” she whispered. Her tongue traced around my lips, teasing me. Then her tongue slipped between my lips and I opened my mouth, inviting her. And then our kiss became that of lovers. Our tongues found each other’s, and I felt myself desperately wanting Helene to want me. I felt her hand slip up my thighs and she pressed her hand on top of my panties, cupping my pussy mound and my pussy. Her touch was so gentle; I shivered at the eroticism of the moment. I reached around Helene and began to softly stroke her back. And the I felt her fingers slip between my pussy lips, pushing the fabric of my panties into my slit. I pulled away from our kiss and nestled my face into her shoulder as she teased my pussy. I began to moan softly as I became more and more aroused.
“Oh god, that feels so good” I panted.
Helene then pulled my mouth back to hers and kissed me firmly and passionately – a real sexual kiss, a kiss of desire, a kiss saying “I’m going to fuck you.” This brought a liberating sensation of pure pleasure and I knew that this was what I wanted. I wanted Helene to fuck me and I wanted it now.
All through this, Helene’s hand stroked the crotch of my panties. Then with a nimble twist of her fingers, she slipped them around and inside the gusset. For the first time I felt the incredible pleasure of the penetrating fingertips of an experienced and confident lesbian woman.
Helene jerked my panties several inches down off my hips, so that they hung across between my legs, halfway up my thighs. Her fingers pressed on the flesh on both sides of my pussy, and squeezed my pussy lips together. I moaned as a wave of sexual desire washed through me.
Almost without thinking I let my panties fall to the floor and pressed myself further between Helene’s legs. Her skirt slipped further up her hips now baring most of her panties. I slipped a hand up the dark opening of Helene’s skirt, gently stroking the insides of her thighs. My hand teased her pussy as I went from thigh to thigh. I could feel the heat of her arousal and how wet her panties had become. I really wanted to excite Helene, so I pressed my hand against the gauzy fabric of panties that matched her bra. Following her lead, I pressed my fingers into her slit, pushing the fabric of her panties up and down her slit. As the fabric teased her clit Helene gasped. “Do you want me to stop?” I whispered.
Helene’s answer was to shift position slightly and then ask me to unbutton and unzip her skirt. When I had done so, she lifted her bottom up from the desk for a moment. Without being told I pulled the skirt down her legs and dropped it on a chair behind me. Now Helene was completely naked except for her panties. I looked up at her to see a face of erotic lust. It said she wanted to fuck me and get fucked by me. She slid off the desk to stand with her buttocks resting against its rim, her feet spread quite wide apart. Then she reached for the waistband of her panties to slide them off.
“No; let me …”
She withdrew her hands as I began to tease her panties down her legs as slowly as I could. I kissed the flesh of her thighs as her panties fell further down her legs.
And then Helene was naked.
She placed her hands on my shoulder and, with gentle pressure, communicated that I should kneel between her legs, and she drew my face towards her pussy. I was amazed – as much as I had fantasized about her, never had I thought that I would be about to fuck her, never mind enjoying it so much! It spoke to something inside me, and released something in me and suddenly I was consumed by a raging wave of lesbian desire. Helen leaned back onto her desk a bit, pushing her pussy more toward me. She spread her lips with her fingers, opening her pinkness to me. I could see her thick juices oozing like lava from her lips and beginning to run onto her thighs.
“Go ahead …” she whispered.
Her pussy was gorgeous. Trim lips, now puffed with desire were now spread, showing the way to her opening. Her clit had started to peek from under its smooth hood. I was now on erotic overload and my juices began to erupt from my drenched vagina. Tentatively, I began to lick up and down her slit. She was delicious! My tongue slipped inside her which drew a sharp gasp of desire. As my togue probed her depths, my thumb found Helene’s clit and began to flick it as my tongue probed. My art teacher’s breathing turned to rasping pants and gulps of air, in between which she exhorted me go deeper, to work her over harder. I watched as her stomach muscles contracted and pushed her hip against my face.
When my other hand reached around her and a finger began to rim her anal passage, she began to use dirty words, increasingly incoherently, as her shoulders shook and her ripe breasts swayed above my head. And then I slipped my finger into her to the first knuckle.
‘Fuck, Selina, yes – go for it, yes, just like that. I love your finger in my ass! Push your hot tongue further inside me! Oh, God ….”
Her sobs and moans became a crescendo, her whole body began to vibrate and tremble; then as she came, soft warm juices splashed onto my tongue and across my cheeks. As she subsided, I brought my head up for air, sticky but exultant – I just made Helene come. I had fucked my art teacher!
I felt the sweat on my back and breasts, and most of all was aware of the unfulfilled burning desire down between my legs. I reached down for my panties that were already at half-mast and slid them down my legs and kicked them aside. Before I had the chance to unbutton my shirt, Helene drew me back into her arms for a loving kiss, and then she took over. Her fingers flew down the front of my shirt, nimbly opening every button and then slipping it backwards off my shoulders. She reached round behind my back to unsnap my plain white cotton bra and let it fall onto the pile of my discarded clothes.
And just like that, I was naked.
Helene slipped her hand between my legs again, and teased her fingertips along my labia, sliding just an inch or so inside me. I sensed her caution and reluctance and asked her what the problem was. Her reply was to ask if I was still a virgin. I told her not to worry – I wasn’t a virgin, though I had very little experience of being penetrated.
“Ah, did young Jane pop your lesbian cherry? I do hope she isn’t going to get jealous about this.”
Her casual comment sent my thoughts swirling. Did Jane actually fancy me that way, and our fumblings were those of lesbian lovers? That thought was pulsatingly exciting.
“No, she won’t be,” I said, “she’s already guessed that you were into me.” Then I continued, with a new decisiveness: “I hope this is going to happen every Tuesday and Thursday evening?” “If you want it to” Helene said with a smiling confirmatory nod. “So she’ll have to accept it, because I’m not giving this up, and I’m not giving her up either!” I wanted my friend to be my girlfriend, but I also wanted to continue enjoying sex with Helene.
“Well now,” said Helene, “since you’re not a virgin, then I know just the thing for you, my new lover!”
She went to a locked store cupboard and withdrew an oblong tin box, rather like a cash box. Once this was unlocked, I saw its contents and gasped – just because I had never seen one before didn’t stop instant recognition. it was obviously a strap-on dildo, except it looked just like a guy’s dick.
Helene brought it over in her hand, and gently pushed me to where she had previously stood. My ass pressed against the rim of the desk, my legs about two feet apart. Holding the large plastic phallus by its base, she pressed its bulbous knob against my pussy and rubbed it quite firmly up and down my slit. I shuddered, a thread of fear running through me. I could tell how intensely Helene wanted to give me this, wanted to take me with its shiny plastic length. Her eyes glittered, her cheeks were flushed and her features had a rigid edge, as she rubbed it against me with greater insistence. She leaned close, her breasts compressed against mine. Her hot breath was in my ears as she whispered in a throaty rasp:
“Do you want this? Do you want it? Tell me, and I’ll take you!”
I babbled my consent – more than that, my desperate eagerness:
“Oh Helene, yes; I just want you to fuck me … please. How do you want to take me? just do me ... please, now!’
Her delight at the way I had been transformed into a total wanton lesbian slut was apparent, and she kissed me hungrily whilst one hand pushed the dildo an inch or so into me, making me gasp at how it stretched my pussy. Helene broke away and took a step back, and then stepped into the harness of the strap-on and tightened its buckles. I felt another tinge of apprehension as its full size was revealed. I had never seen a guy’s dick so big. Helene looked incredibly sexy wearing a cock, and at the prospect of what I was about to receive I felt my knees go rubbery and fluids seep from my pussy down my inner thighs.
At first, Helene left me in position facing her, so that I could see everything. She sat me on the desk with my legs spread open, and she brought the tip of the dildo to brush against my distended labia. Then, she took a firm grip on my hips and pressed it inwards, not so much forcefully as with a firm and confident pressure. My vaginal tube opened up for her, stretching to a capacity I never dreamed that I had, although I felt incredibly filled and stretched in the process. And as she entered me all the breath was driven from my lungs and I just gasped. Actually, she had only gone in maybe three inches, and she flexed her hips to pull the shaft most of the way back – but not right out – and then stroked it in again with the same calm assurance. My eyes nearly bugged out as I saw it sink in further, at least another inch, and even more when the next insertion entered me further still. She adopted a steady rhythm, and then began to speed it up – in response, my legs arched further apart and my pussy stretched wider, until unbelievably the whole length of the thing – all seven inches went into me with every thrust.
Helene continued like this for a dozen or so deep thrusts, carefully watching my face to gauge my reactions. She cupped my breasts in both of her hands and squeezed my nipples, making me get even looser and wetter. Then Helene withdrew her cock all the way out of my pussy and gestured for me to turn round. And, suddenly I knew, with a rush of lust, what was next. She braced me on the desk – I gripped the further edge with my hands, and rested my forehead on the wood, which allowed me an amazing view backwards, through the gap between my hanging and swinging breasts, down my stomach to my mound, where I saw her reinsert the dildo. My legs were now spread wider apart, and she took a firm grip around my waist and began to drill her cock in and out, rapidly reaching a much faster and harder tempo than when I had been facing her. I began to gasp for breath as the angle of her penetrations made the ridges of the dildo rasp over my clit, driving me nearly insane with desire. Suddenly, one of her hands left my hips and seized my hair, jerking my head upwards and backwards, arching my spine and lifting my chest off the desk. Her thrusts became even firmer, and her other hand reached round to grab one of my jiggling breasts. Helene was slamming the dildo into me so hard that I was almost being lifted off my feet by its impact, and I gave a hoarse scream as I climaxed – my thighs trembled, my hips bucked frantically back against her pile-driving impalement, sweat poured down to pool in the small of my back, my nipples felt like they were on fire, and my whole body shook from top to toes in an explosive orgasm – my first real one, my first true fucking by a woman.
I slumped down on the desk, my stomach slicked with sweat, floundering and gasping for air like a landed fish. With real tenderness, Helene stroked and massaged my back – I shall always remember her loving gentleness in that moment of extraordinary calm after the passing of the raging storm. She traced her fingers down my spine, and rubbed in gentle circles around the small of my back, even as she moved her hips and gently slid the length of the dildo out of my battered but electrified vagina. Leaning forwards, she kissed the back of my neck, then each shoulder blade, and then down my back, as I luxuriated in her tender care and the knowledge that I was truly now a woman – who had the knowledge of what it was to be fucked to climax.
I laid there blissfully for a few moments, aware that Helene had removed the strap-on, wiping it with a damp cloth and drying it before restoring it to its box and cupboard. I knew that she knew I was looking at her body with desire, the lust of a lover who is already beginning to count the minutes until next time. She smiled back at me, enjoying in her turn the delectable view I presented, with my legs still spread open and my butt up in the air. I realized that it was an incredible compliment, that she had found me so attractive and so sexually desirable.
Helene handed me a towel and I dried off my sweat, enough at least to be able to put my underwear and clothes back on for long enough to walk through the halls and corridors back my room – and Jane, where I could wash off the sex. I would tell Jane all about it, of course, under oath of secrecy; after lights-out time, in bed together, naked and with our legs entwined and pussies rubbing against each other, and I would stick my fingers deep inside her as I did so, matching my account of Helene’s dildo penetrations with a finger-fucking of my roommate’s pussy and clit at the same time.
Before I left the art studio, Helene and I kissed again, and once more she slipped her hand underneath my skirt, giving my mound a caress and a possessive squeeze. As my lips parted in a little moan from the pleasure induced by my teacher’s touch, she kissed my neck and then said, her eyes dancing with merry delight:
“See you Tuesday!”
1 年 前
so beautiful and sexy 
