of merely leak.
While she sucked my tits, Ann slid her hand under my skirt. The feel of her probing fingertips through the saturated crotch of my clinging panties was electric. Then and there I knew there was no turning back – we would make love.
We went to the bedroom to do it. By the time we got there, we were both naked. I was the one who got in bed first on my back and spread my legs as far apart as they would go.
'Love me,' I moaned, pleading for the intimate kind of affection I had been robbed of since my rape. Make me come.
Ann dove for the mossy crux of my thighs and began eating me. Her teeth, lips and tongue were heaven against my cunt. And things got even better when she penetrated that drooling slit.
'Eat me… eat me… eat me,' I chanted repeatedly. 'Shove your hard tongue all the way up my pussy and fuck me with it.'
I had started coming almost immediately. The more Ann tongued me, the harder I came. By the time she was orally probing me to the hilt, orgasm was shaking me like a leaf.
While she ate my cunt, her hands roamed over my tits. My nipples were erect at least an inch apiece, and crimson from the constant stimulation.
Before long I realized I could no longer wait to taste some pussy myself. Ann recognized my desire instinctively and asked if I wanted to sixty-nine. Of course my answer was yes.
Quickly repositioning ourselves so that our faces were buried in each other's hairy cunt, we began chewing each other out. I couldn't believe how exciting another woman's pussy tasted. If it was always this good, I could see why Ann had turned lesbian.
My tongue's first trip up a tight female fuck-hole is something I'll remember until the day I die. The combination of the jellied sweetness and squeezing muscles was something every woman should experience. Making love to someone of my own sex seemed like the most natural and beautiful thing in the world.
Instead of rising and then falling, my orgasmic response just kept building. I wanted more and more of my female lover, and she obviously felt the same way. We must have swallowed a pint of each other's pussy juice.
And it still wasn't over when we stopped sixty-nining. Ann asked me if I wanted her to fuck me.
'Of course,' I eagerly answered. 'But how?'
'With that long-handled brush you picked,' she giggled. 'It'll fit just fine inside your cunt, and I'm just the girl who knows how to make it move. When I'm through with you, you'll wonder why you ever bothered to fool with a real cock.'
She left the room to get the brush. Believe it or not, I was so horny that while she was gone I finger-fucked myself. I didn't want to lose a precious bit of the tremendous climax raging within me.
When she returned, she was holding the bristle end of the brush against her crotch so the handle loomed from her loins like a hard-on. I could hardly wait for her to slip it inside my cunt and start pumping. I'd soul-kiss her and play with her perfect tits while she was doing it.
'Fuck me, Ann, fuck me!' I cried, pulling my hand from between my legs and opening my snatch to my cervix.
She came to the bed, climbed aboard, and kneeled before me. My pussy was steaming with anticipation.
Expertly guiding the brush handle, Ann lowered her tawny loins toward my open honey-pot. Operating in a no-nonsense fashion, she made her first thrust a deep and probing one. All of a sudden my twat was engorged with her hardness.
Just as I'd planned, I seized her breasts and covered her mouth with my lips when she started screwing me. Making total love with another woman made fucking my husband seem tame indeed.
The springs in the mattress squeaked like a rusty gate in the wind from our furious humping. The end of the brush felt like it was in my womb, and then it seemed to penetrate even beyond that.
This was fucking. Real fucking. Had I known about this kind of sex when I was growing up, I might never have married.
Wrapping my legs around Ann's slim waist, I drew her tighter and tighter into the grip of my thighs. We were both generously endowed with pubic hair, and now, with the welding of our groins, it had combined into one enormous tangle.
Then our pussy lips melted together. Even our cuts. Our cunts were one. One pulsing, dripping, spasming organism of sensual female lust.
It was only natural that eventually I would take the brush out of my twat, lick my own juice off the handle, and then begin fucking Ann back with it. It turned out to be as much fun doing the fucking as receiving it.
We must have switched places five or six times before we were finally exhausted. Then we got under the sheets and just curled up against each other's naked bodies, luxuriating in the afterglow of perfect love- making.
Eventually dozing off, my dreams were wet. When I awoke, I told Ann about it and she laughed and said the same thing had happened to her. After trading details we were so turned-on that we started sucking and fucking all over again.
The second time around we gave the long handled brush to each other in the ass as well as the cunt. Also, we licked and ate everywhere – tits, pussy, ass, belly-button, armpits. As far as I was concerned, every part of Ann was sweeter than the last part I'd tasted.
It finally had to and just before three o'clock because I realized the kids were coming home from school. We had been in bed with each other for almost five solid hours.
For the first time since I had been raped, I felt good about myself. And for the first time in my life, I felt like a total woman.
As I reluctantly said goodbye to Ann, I suspected that things would never be the same.
CHAPTER FOUR
Of course, I began seeing my female lover during the day as much as I could. Her Avon sales were falling off drastically, but she didn't seem to care as long as she could kiss me, and feel my tits, and get inside my pussy and asshole.
However, all was not perfection. I still had to cope with Don. While my lesbian love life was booming, my marital situation was deteriorating faster than a piece of bread under water.
I had no patience with Don any more. His presence around the house seemed an intrusion to me. I wished he would just leave for work one day and never come back.
Maybe if I had said the hell with it, and just gone ahead and left him, perhaps what happened next could have been forestalled. Believe me, had I known how things were going to turn out, I would have been more courageous.
Ann lost her job because she was spending so much time during the day in my arms and between my legs. Her sales had fallen to nothing. And since she had no husband to support her, she had to do something quickly.
'What are you going to do?' I anxiously asked when she told me the bad news.
'I don't know,' she answered, 'but I'll have to decide right away. I only have a little money in the bank – not even enough to pay my rent.'
I wanted to offer her everything I had, but reality forced me to say nothing. Everything I had was under my husband's thumb. As much as I wanted to, as long as I was married, I could not help her.
That day when we said goodbye it was the first time we had not made love. In tears when she left, I chillingly suspected that things would never be the same between us.
I was right. The crushing blow I expected came in the form of a letter the next day. Its message was like a gunshot to my heart.
'Dearest, Mary,' she wrote. 'I am going to Chicago. I have relatives there I can stay with until I find work. I
