Me and My Girls Ch. 03

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She ventures further into the bi world, and loves it.
5.4k words
4.45
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8

Part 3 of the 6 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 01/24/2005
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Getting serious, it's big girls stuff now!

Before reading this it's highly recommended that you read the earlier parts.

We did it with Tom two or three more times, and each time it just got better and better. The odd thing about it was that, although Sharon and I had very enthusiastic and uninhibited sex together with Tom present we never actually did it on our own. On a couple of occasions we did try but somehow we ended up giggling and that took all of the intimacy and sexiness out of it. A few months later Tom got promoted to another office and then Sharon left and although we kept in touch for a while our lives drifted apart and I don't think I've seen her since those heady days. Tom did ask me on a date a couple of times but rather spoiled it by adding, "and you can bring another girl as well if you like!"

Working in the center of London in a trendy advertising agency I met loads of people from the theatre and the arts worlds as well as advertising and I was running with a fairly racy and very liberal bunch of people. There was plenty of booze and drugs around but I was very careful with both and hardly ever took anything other than a little speed.

My involvement with women went on hold again as, I suppose, I honed my sexual skills with men. Whilst it seemed as though I was very prolific I only had sex with half a dozen or so men during those crazy two years after leaving university and taking up with Kevin who eventually became my husband.

I met Marcia on a shoot for a commercial where I was a junior copywriter. She was the assistant producer, a very powerful person on a shoot. She was also known to be one of the best in London and was quite famous in the ad agency at the time. She was in her mid thirties at least. Very slim, and just about my height with an almost boy like figure she had jet black hair and very dark, mysterious eyes. She was very powerful and authoritative around the shoot hurling as much abuse at the senior art directors as she did at the cameramen when they screwed things up.

We were filming in Scotland just outside Perth and were staying on a hunting and fishing complex that had a number of lodges scattered around a central reception, bar and restaurant. Each cabin was quite luxurious some being one bedroomed and others two or three. We had just about finished and were having a sort of wrap party in the bar of the complex on the last night of shooting even though I as the junior and Marcia in her role were staying on for most of the next day to tidy things up. The rest of the crew and agency people were leaving early the next day to get back to London.

Hence it was a rather lack-lustre party for most just wanted to get to bed early and set off home. Before that, though, we all had dinner together and I found myself next to Marcia who, obviously I knew, but hadn't chatted to her much up until then. At the dinner she was very attentive asking me loads of questions about my job and career aspirations, about why I'd left uni., about the agency and boy friends. She was surprisingly easy to talk to and I found myself a little in awe of her and the fact that such a senior person in the industry was bothering with a young, junior copywriter like me.

I drank quite a bit as I thought everyone had and was laughing and joking at her witty and rather sacrilegious views on the ad industry. She told me about her production company and how that had enabled her to have a house in Hampstead and an apartment in Marbella, to drive a Porsche and to have a boat. I had heard rumours of her possible lesbian tendencies so when her attention became a little closer than with a straight woman I was not only not scared but really was quite flattered by it. So when she rested her fingertips on my wrist a couple of times or placed her hand on my shoulder to emphasise points I didn't flinch or move away. I may even, I suppose, have looked her in the eyes as she made those gestures. I didn't know for sure that they were attempts to check me out for they were only fleeting moments so I just ignored them and did nothing to overtly indicate whether I would be interested or not. In any case, I thought, she probably wouldn't be interested in a kid like me and in all probability the touches were her just her being a bit lovey as many in the film industry are. But when she leaned back and let her hand fall on the seat of my chair so that it brushed against my bottom I wasn't quite so sure.

Dinner broke up and we all adjourned to the very small bar. I was in a corner at the end of the bar sitting on a bar stool when Marcia and most of the film crew came in making the bar even more crowded. She stood at the bar and bought everyone drinks edging a little closer to me as people picked theirs up. When the serving was finished she stood half in front of me leaning back against the bar her body shielding my legs from the others view. I was wearing a rather short skirt and that had ridden well up my thighs so quite a lot of my legs were on view. Everyone was talking and laughing and having a roaring time when I felt something on my knee. I looked down and saw her hand moving away. Another accident or an overt gesture, I wondered still not sure?

It happened again a few minutes later and then a third time. What she was doing was seemingly accidentally just letting her hand fall down so that if we wanted it could be seen as an inadvertent gesture. A mistake I suppose. But what I felt was becoming clear was that they were not mistakes. Especially when on the fourth time the back of her hand ran all the way up my leg from the knee to the bottom of the skirt. A little panicky I looked around to make sure no one could see but was reassured on that for Marcia had, if anything, moved more round in front of me blocking my legs completely from anyone's view.

Still though she was acting if nothing was happening, turning from chatting to me stuck in the corner and other members of the crew across the bar separating what she was doing to me from them. Still, though, there was nothing too overt and I realised that she was still making sure that there was a way out without her losing face for now she had both her hands wrapped around her wine glass and was asking me about my next shoot as if nothing at all was happening. But then as a group of the crew burst into loud laughter at probably some really filthy joke she turned to look at them so that her back was towards me. I watched her hand once more slip down and behind her. This time it did not brush my bare leg. This time it was not a quick or surreptitious movement. No this time I watched as the perfectly manicured nails stretched over the fleshy part of my leg just above my knee and saw the fingers encircle it. They lingered there squeezing gently. There was no way that this could be anything other than a very obvious caress. A suggestive gesture. An invitation to me.

I didn't know what to do. I was excited and flattered at her attention. I was, though, slightly alarmed and concerned. This was clearly big girl's stuff. It was beyond the messing around with the girls at college and well beyond what Sharon and I had done. It was also with someone that had the reputation of being a lesbian and I didn't look at myself as having such tendencies. No my messing around had been part of growing up hadn't it? Many girls I knew or read about in Cosmo had done similar things to me and they weren't lesbian. But hints and gossip intimated that the woman whose hand was on my leg was just that. I was also a little confused by the drink and the party atmosphere. Confused for sure but also somewhat excited and I have to admit aroused I suppose. Sitting there on that stool my skirt above mid thigh looking down and seeing Marcia's fingers, almost idly now, gently touching my bare leg some four or five inches above my knee I just didn't know how to react. I didn't know what I wanted to happen or what I thought might happen. My heart was beating and my mid was racing as I simply stared at that hand and those tempting, suggestive fingers on my leg.

I could move and I guess no face would be lost. I could slip, off the stool, go to the loo, join another group or move away so that I would show I wasn't interested. Or I could, perhaps, place my hand on hers showing that I was interested, maybe press my leg more firmly or even touch her back to show that I was receptive to her. In the end I took the line of least resistance. I did nothing. Nothing to encourage or deter her. I in fact put the ball firmly back in her court, or so I thought.

Marcia was though too experienced to be put off or discouraged by such a simple gesture. No she'd been here before I reckoned. She knew what to do. She must have recognised something in me, some signs or signals. She must have known that she'd primed me. Built me up perfectly. Aroused my interest and reduced my resistance.

She immediately recognised the signal I was transmitting about events now being back in her court. And she was able, ready and so eager to return them right back in mine. After a moment or two instead of just removing her hand she slid it up my legs briefly letting her fingers go under the hem of my skirt and giving the inside of my thigh a little squeeze. Turning she stared right into my eyes with a look of relief, pleasure and assurance on her face. She knew that she had got me.

The party started breaking up shortly after that and after the usual rather exaggerated kisses and hugs there was only four or five of us left with Marcia and me at the bar the others round the fire in easy chairs. I was hellishly nervous as she came up close to me and gave me another drink. She smiled at me very confidently and said lightly.

"Your place or mine Amanda?" I stammered out that I didn't know and she said. "Why don't you make your goodbyes now and wait in your cabin for me? I'll only be twenty minutes or so."

Almost transfixed with the situation and the awe I suppose of such a rich, famous and glamorous woman wanting me I did as she said.

In the room, though, the nerves really set in and I didn't know what to do. Should I shower perhaps or maybe undress and get into bed? I couldn't do that, though, because it would mean leaving the door open. Maybe I should take my outer clothes off and slip into a robe but then I thought that was a little false so perhaps naked under it. But that seemed to me to be a little too much and might make me appear too eager and too easy. Possibly I should have a bath and greet her wrapped in a towel my hair still wet but that seemed just silly. So instead I settled for a quick wash and a change of knickers and waited.

Time seemed to drag so much but looking at my watch I saw that I'd been there only ten minutes. I wandered around the bedroom and the small lounge wondering what the hell this would bring and my thoughts of course went to the times with Susie and Sharon. But this promised to be so different. Both of those were really just girly things and in their own ways had just happened. This, though, I recognised was proper grown up woman's stuff. I was playing with the big girls. I had been picked up so relatively easily by her and was now waiting expectantly for her to come to my bedroom and make love to me. And I wanted that, just that. My body and emotions that she had been toying with all evening were now attuned to her and what would happen.

But after half an hour she still wasn't there and I started to think perhaps I had got it all wrong. But I couldn't have, could I? She had clearly told me to wait for her. Surely I wasn't drunk and had imagined it or had got the message wrong. No, the touches at the dinner table. The almost caress like placing of her fingertips on my wrist, my shoulder and my bottom. The holding of my gaze just that little longer than was necessary and of course the overtly sexual way that she had slid her fingertips up the inside of my thigh flattened against the chair and beneath the hem of my skirt all told me that there was no mistake. But time drifted on until I had been there almost forty five minutes and still no visit or even a phone call.

I was just about to give up and go to bed when I heard the light tap on the door.

"Fucking room service," she snarled holding up two bottles of champagne and glasses, "could die waiting for them."

She marched in as if it were her own room and stood by a table putting the champagne down on that as she gabbled on telling me that she just couldn't get rid of one of the art directors. "Sorry luv but I could hardly say that I had to hurry to get to Amanda's room for she's waiting there for me could I?"

I laughed and said. "No I suppose you couldn't."

She had changed from the brown, leather trousers and bright yellow shirt of earlier and was now wearing a full length, quite tight, black dress. Her hair was rather more slicked back than usual and she was wearing a very pale foundation on her face making it look almost translucent in the dim lighting I had arranged in each of the rooms.

"So Amanda," she said so confidently, "were you thinking that I might not come to you?"

I admitted that it had crossed my mind and I let slip that I was just about to give up and go to bed. With a very assured smile on her face and her eyes glinting she said.

"Actually my dear that might have been a very good idea for I wouldn't have had to undress you then would I? You would have been wonderfully naked for me wouldn't you? You would, Amanda, have been absolutely ready for me to make love to you wouldn't you?"

Her words crashed into my mind and any minor reservations I had just simply evaporated. Her total assumption that I was so under her spell and her sophisticated assurance and confidence just overwhelmed me. As I heard the words and saw her eyes devouring me I simply melted. I knew at that moment that I was hers to do with as she wished.

And it was obvious that she knew it as well for she was playing with me, toying with me. She knew that she had me dangling on the end of a piece of string and I guessed she knew that I had emotionally totally capitulated to her.

I was sitting in a low chair my skirt almost up to a level where my panties would be on view and she was standing her bottom wedged against the table leaning back her ankles crossed. It was a pose of such confidence and control that I knew that I was completely out of my depth. I tried to say something about me not being very experienced. Why? I have no idea but she replied.

"I couldn't give a fuck Amanda. You have a gorgeous face, a body to die for and legs that go right up to your arse. I want to fuck you so badly that my body hurts."

We looked at each other for a moment or two and then she stood up straight her legs apart her hands going behind her neck. Holding my gaze she fumbled for a moment as she went on.

"Yes Amanda from the moment I first saw you I have wanted you. From the first time I clapped eyes on you I have wanted to capture you and do the rudest things to you. I have wanted to see you naked and to worship your glorious body. Your magnificent breasts, the flatness of your stomach and the roundness of your arse. I have yearned to see you and feel you and touch you. I have lain awake imagining you in my bed with my face between your legs lapping at that fountain that I just know flows so easily and so fully."

I could feel myself being hypnotised by her phrasing and the assurance she had, well maybe it was practice I didn't know, to even think of saying such things to me. But they had exactly the effect I assume she was hoping for because they made me feel so bloody horny and receptive to her that I would have done anything. And as she said those remarkable words so even more incredibly exciting things happened.

Her fingers that had been fumbling behind her neck suddenly released her dress that then simply slid down her body. Getting caught momentarily on her nipples that she overcame with a shrug of her body she was suddenly standing before me in just a pair of high heeled shoes and a pair of long, black, self-support stockings. Her body was so slim and had hardly any curves, the only really womanly thing about her being her enormous nipples. Dark and very round they had incredibly large centres that looked just like two acorns jutting out from as small a pair of breasts as it was probably possible to have. But despite that she simply oozed sex. She exuded an earthiness that I had never encountered before and she accompanied that with such a dominating demeanour that I felt totally under her control.

And then I saw that she was shaved. I had never seen a woman that was bald in that area and was surprised really at how visible and how violently scarlet were the lips of her vagina. Did it thrill me? Did the sight of her sex excite me? No not the vision but certainly the symbolic intimacy and the fact that she had clearly done that in a calculated way to, presumably, pleasure herself and her lovers most certainly did.

She sat on the edge of the bed and looking at me with that slightly superior smile said.

"Now Amanda I want you to take your clothes off for me and do that nice and slowly."

In any other circumstances I would probably have resisted doing that, even though the last time it had been said by Sharon I readily agreed, I recalled. And this time it was not to flaunt myself to a potential male lover it was to bare myself for what was surely going to be a lesbian lover. That, if anything, made it even more exciting. But it was not just the sexual excitement that made me stand up and obediently undo the buttons on my blouse one by one very slowly. It was the spell she was casting over me. I felt so under her control, so directed by her, so, I suppose, dominated by her.

Leaning back her arms behind her supporting her, one knee crossed over the other she appeared to be so relaxed and assured. She must have known the effect she had on girls like me and she played that to the full. Her eyes roaming over me, a little superior sort of smile on her lips she just sat there saying things like.

"Yes that's just right, very nice Amanda," or, "mmm lovely breasts my dear," as the blouse fell to the floor and I reached behind me to unclip my bra. "Slow dear, slow," she whispered, "take your time as I am going to when I make such incredible love to you."

I knew that she was using the words to totally mesmerize and captivate me but I could do nothing about it. I was most certainly both mesmerized and captivated by her and the aura she had.

As I did, slowly, remove my bra trying to do it as I'd seen strippers in films so she continued with her torrent of the most erotic and hypnotizing words and phrases that I had ever heard. As I held the undone bra in front of my breasts for a moment or two and then slowly let it fall to the floor so I heard.

"Oh yes my dear, breasts that are so full and firm, breasts that just ache for my touch, breasts that are so soft and just waiting for me."

As I dropped my hands from my fully naked breasts so words like.

"Amanda you have such beautiful nipples. They are so hard for me. They are just ready for me," poured all over me almost making me shudder with desire. She went on as I started to undo the short zip at the back of my skirt. "Yes Amanda nipples that are just yearning for me to chew and suck them and bite and kiss them." As I started to ease the skirt down the incredible speech continued. "Yes nipples that I will chew on Amanda until I have you screaming for more. You will do that Amanda I promise. I will arouse your body so much that you will beg me for release. You will plead with me to make you cum."

My hands were shaking so much at both the words and the sheer assurance this woman had that I could hardly fumble my skirt off but somehow I managed it and slowly let it fall down my legs. And still she kept talking.

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