Girl Talk Ch. 13

Girl Talk 13: Beth

This series is based on interviews I did quite a few years back with women who had modelled for me, or were private clients when I worked as a photographer. Their words have been, 'edited' but only to remove features of continuous speech such as, 'um, ah, eh,' and repetitions of partial phrases which is common in everyday speech.

The Confession Club: Beth is a thirty-three-year-old divorcee, with dark, shoulder length hair, slim to medium build, with a 34B bust. About 5'5" tall, very attractive in a quiet sort of way, you'd probably pass her in the street without giving her a second look, but there's more to Beth than meets the eye, I'm glad to say.

CC: Hi Beth, thanks for coming in to give us your story.

Beth: Oh, It's a pleasure, I hope.

CC: I'm sure it will be. Would you like to tell our readers your dirty little secret?

Beth: (laughing) to put it simply, I'm a wanker. (laughs again) I'm not ashamed to say it, but I just love masturbating and playing with myself.

CC: How long has this been going on?

Beth: Oh God! For years and years - almost as long as I can remember.

CC: Even when you were married?

Beth: I have to admit that I still masturbated all the way through the disaster called marriage. It was the only thing that kept me sane. It was a big mistake - marriage that is - and one that I'll never repeat.

CC: So, us men are 'out,' are we?

Beth: No, not entirely. They have their uses occasionally, I just said marriage was ruled out, not men. Actually, I've been having rather more fun with women lately.

CC: Sounds interesting, but first tell me about the masturbating.

Beth: I can't remember how, but I discovered that it was very pleasant to touch myself down below. I started going out with boys, and although some of them touched me nicely and brought me to orgasm, it was never the same as doing it myself. Eventually I met the man I married, but it was over almost before it began.

Now, I'm on my own, and I prefer it that way. Sometimes I don't masturbate for days, but then I'll hit one of what I call, 'my hot days,' and I'll do it over and over again. I'll do it before getting out of bed, I'll do it in the shower, at work, on the bus on the way home, and throughout the evening until I go to bed, and do it again.

CC: At work and on the bus? How do you manage that?

Beth: It's quite simple really. I always wear a skirt as you can see. That gives me quick access if I need it. At work I can just go to the toilet, hike up my skirt, and rub myself. Or I can do it sitting at my desk by crossing my legs and squeezing myself with my thighs. That produces a lovely sensation, which keeps me 'on the boil,' and leads to a very nice, but secret orgasm. There's the added thrill of being surrounded by other people who don't have a clue what I'm doing.

CC: Can you tell us more about that please?

Beth: Ok, I usually start by playing with my nipples. It's easy to do without anyone noticing. I get them nice and stiff, very swollen, and I love playing with them, they're very sensitive. The next stage is where I start on my pussy. Obviously, I can't just lift up my skirt and start rubbing in public, although I'm sure it would go down well with a lot of folks. (laughs) Usually I don't have panties on, so when I cross my legs and start to squeeze my pussy between my thighs the feeling is much better.

Wearing a skirt with no panties is a deliciously wicked feeling anyway, not to mention the sense of freedom. It's healthier too. Anyway, back to the squeezing. I get a good rhythm going, regularly clenching and unclenching my legs until I have an orgasm. It takes a while, but the feeling is marvellous, and I've trained myself not to make any noise. I use the same method when I'm on the bus, and it certainly makes those boring bus journeys a lot more fun.

CC: All that exercise - you must have 'thighs of steel?' Do you think anyone ever realises what you're up to?

Beth: Thighs of steel? (laughs) Probably - so watch it mister - I might crush you to death.

CC: Aye - but what a way to go!! (Beth laughs)

Beth: I think some people, especially other women, on rare occasions, have realised what's going on, and others have looked at me as if they weren't quite sure, but I don't think they knew 'for certain,' what I was up to. Mind you, I had a lovely attractive woman wink at me, and whisper, 'good for you,' as she got off the bus just last month. I smiled, winked back and thanked her - shameless, that's me.

CC: Has it ever led to anything a bit more than that?

Beth: Ah well... just a couple of months ago I was sitting on the bus feeling a little horny. I was just casually squeezing my legs together, when a tall, good-looking blonde girl got on the bus. I immediately noticed her, and as luck would have it, she came up towards the back of the bus where I was sitting. She sat at the other side of the bus, one row in front, quite close really, where I could study her at leisure.

She was wearing a white summer dress, loose and flowing, which at the same time showed her figure off well. I knew she had no bra on, because I had noticed as she walked up the aisle towards me. Her legs were bare and suntanned, with a silky sheen - she was sex appeal personified - in my mind anyway. I studied her for a while, admiring her perfect profile. I could even smell her perfume.

I squeezed my legs together harder while thinking the most depraved thought about her. I don't know if I unconsciously made a noise, but she turned and looked me, then gave me the most dazzling smile. I smiled back, and she looked away again. What happened a few moments later took me completely by surprise, because normally I can control my level of arousal and lay off if I'm getting too close to an orgasm, but that day was different.

One moment I was thinking horny thought about my 'Lady In White,' the next moment an orgasm took hold of me. I tried to be quiet, but it was difficult. Eyes closed, I shook and trembled uncontrollably. I heard a soft American voice from the seat beside me.

'Honey, are you OK, are you ill?' I opened my eyes, and it was my lovely blonde, sitting next to me with one arm round my shoulders, a look of concern on her face. I just nodded.

'I'm OK now,' I told her, embarrassed and surprised by my lack of control and public orgasm. 'This is my stop, I have to get off here,' I said. She stood up to give me room as I tried to get up on unsteady legs, and I actually staggered as I reached out and pressed the bell to be let off at the next stop. She got off the bus with me and put her arm round my shoulders again.

'Hey, I'm not about to let you go off on your own when you're not well. Let's get you home safely, alright?' I just nodded, and let her take charge and come home with me.

CC: Yeah! I think I see where this is going.

Beth: I'm sure you do, but allow me to tell you how we got there, OK?

CC: Carry on Beth - good stuff so far.

Beth: She walked with me the two, or three hundred yards to my house, and of course, I invited her in - it would have been rude and ungrateful to do anything else. Luckily the place was tidy. She fussed around and made sure I was comfortable, then insisted on making me a cup of tea. I felt a bit of a phoney, knowing there was nothing wrong with me, but it was nice to have her there with me anyway. I watched her as she got the cups out, finding her way in my small kitchen, putting the tea bags in the cup, milk from the fridge - she was a beauty.

She brought the tea, and sat down opposite, asking how I was now. I told her I was fine, and also let her know how much I appreciated her concern and her help. She was of the opinion that I should call my doctor, but I told her that I was fine and there was no need. In fact, just sitting talking to her was making me feel better by the minute, but not in the way she would imagine. Especially when she crossed those long, suntanned legs and the loose, flowing dress rode up, exposing a lovely expanse of firm, tanned thigh.

We chatted for a while, and she told me her name was Jody. Her brother-in-law worked with an oil related company, and when he was transferred here, she just had to come and visit her sister. Her ancestors had also come from this part of Scotland, and she wanted to do some research on the family tree while she was here.

She took the empty cups into the kitchen, where she washed and dried them, then came back. Again, she tried to get me to call my doctor, and I told her there was no point, I would be wasting his time. Well, it seems Jody; lovely as she is, has a highly developed sense of the dramatic, and assumed that I meant I was terminally ill.

'Oh, I'm so sorry,' she said and took me in her arms, giving me a big hug, and shame on me, I let her. It was very nice, all that feminine softness being held against me, then I realised she was crying and felt really guilty.

'Please stop crying Jody. You've misunderstood what I was saying. I'm not dying; I'm not even ill.' I extricated myself, reluctantly it has to be said, from her arms and taking both her hands in mine said, 'Jody, I want to thank you for beings so incredibly kind, taking me home, making tea, and looking after me. You're a lovely, sweet person and I'm feeling so, so guilty now, letting you do all this, but the plain and honest truth is, there's nothing wrong with me, I'm not ill, and haven't been feeling ill.'

'But all that shaking on the bus - your eyes were all scrunched up as if you were in a lot of pain. I was sure you were having a fit, or a seizure, or something,' she said. I shook my head, 'time to tell the truth,' I thought.

'This might shock you Jody, but I have to tell you the truth,' I began. 'It wasn't pain, it was the opposite, it was pleasure.' She looked puzzled. 'Oh god,' I said, ashamed of myself, 'Jody, I was having an orgasm.' Her mouth fell open in astonishment, and she looked at me, speechless for a few moments. Then she started laughing, and I thought she would never stop.

'Jeez, you must be one hell of a horny lady,' she managed to get out between fits of laughter. Then she laughed even harder. I got up, went to the fridge and opened a bottle of white wine. I poured two glasses, and brought them back, placing one in front of her. When she managed to stop laughing, she took a sip, and looked at me with an interested smile. 'How do you manage to orgasm on a bus - in public?'

'First of all, let me tell you that I can usually control myself if I'm thinking erotic thoughts. What happened today has never happened before, but I guess I just got too excited, and before I knew it, I was coming like a train.'

'My God, what were you thinking about?' she asked me. I wondered if I had the nerve to say, but 'here goes nothing,' I decided.

'You,' was all I said, and left it there to hang in the air. If she was disgusted by the idea, she would get up and leave - she stayed, so I thought I might be in with a chance. After a few moment silence while she obviously thought over what I'd just said, she spoke again.

'But it's not just thought, it can't be just thought. There must be some physical stimulation?' she continued as if I'd never said, 'You.'

'Squeezing,' I replied, and explained how it was done. She looked sceptical, so I crossed my legs and began to squeeze to demonstrate. She couldn't see anything happening at all, and I explained that, that was one of the major advantages of doing it, nobody could tell. She may not be able to see anything, but it was most certainly working on me.

'You mean to tell me you're getting turned on and horny now,' she said, and I nodded. 'Stop for a moment, show me how it's done.' I told her there was no great secret; all she had to do was cross her legs and squeeze her pussy, over and over. She crossed her legs, closed her eyes and sat back on the couch. After a few minutes, during which I said nothing to break her concentration, I noticed that her breathing had changed, and a slight flush appeared on her throat and cheeks - it was working - she was getting aroused.

'Now, doesn't that feel wonderful?' I said very quietly, and she nodded.

'Mmm... yes it's good, but it's somehow far away... disconnected.' I suggested that was probably because she still had her panties on, and it was far better with them off. She opened her eyes and looked at me. 'Really?'

'It's much better,' I said lifting my own skirt to illustrate, and quickly dropping it again.

'Do you mind?' she asked me, and I told her not in the slightest, hoping she was about to do what I thought she was about to do. Sure enough, she stood up, and modestly slipped her hands up under her dress, and taking her tiny white panties off, put them in her bag, and sat back down again. She crossed her legs again, this time a little more careless, even more of her thighs showing, and closed her eyes.

After another few minute of squeezing, her hands came up automatically and began kneading and squeezing at her breasts, her fingers searching out and finding the nipples beneath the flimsy fabric, and her bottom began to lift slightly with each squeeze. She bit her bottom lip, and a small moan of pleasure escaped from her open mouth.

I, of course, was really turned on by her obvious and unabashed enjoyment, and decided to join in. I pulled my skirt up and round my waist, opened my blouse to expose my boobs, spread my legs and began to touch myself. Soon, try as I might to keep on watching her, I felt my orgasm sweep over me, and had to close my eyes to enjoy it all the better.

It was just too exciting, with my American dream girl sitting opposite and masturbating too, and I was overcome by the sensations rushing through my stomach and cunt. As my pleasure subsided, I opened my eyes to see that she too had pulled up her dress, and with legs spread wide, was fondling herself as she watched me masturbate. She seemed a bit shame faced at being caught watching me and began to pull down her dress.

'Don't stop - please carry on, I want to see you.' I pleaded. She smiled and pulled her dress back up again and began to circle her clitoris with her middle finger, occasionally dipping one or two fingers deep inside herself. I suspect being watched by another woman was adding another dimension to her pleasure, especially when I began adding some vocal encouragement, telling her she was so beautiful, that her legs were fantastic, and her little wet pussy was just adorable. It was, and soon it was twitching with excitement, opening and closing with little spasms of pleasure as she came loudly.

After it was over, she lay there with her legs open, her natural blonde pussy hair wet with her juices and the lovely pink lips open and glistening in the light. She opened her eyes and looked at me smiling again. She started to pull her dress down again, and I quickly stood up and crossed over to her.

'Please don't do that,' I said, 'you're so beautiful I could look at you for hours.' As I said it, I got down on my knees between her open legs and pushed her dress up round her waist again. I stroked the inside of her smooth thighs; she shivered at the contact and closed her eyes to enjoy my touch.

'Please don't,' was all she said in token protest as I began to kiss the inside of those same thighs, but I noticed she made no move to close her legs. I pushed her legs wider still, and she tilted her pelvis, bringing her lovely pussy up to meet my kissing mouth. As I slid my tongue up the crevice formed by her open pussy lips, up, over, and round and round her clitoris, she whispered, 'Oh yes, that's so beautiful...' and pushed herself harder against my mouth.

No protests now, only pure joy as she came again, and again. It was one of the truly great erotic moments of my life, and there have been quite a few. We spent the evening in each other's arms - it was wonderful. She proved an able and enthusiastic pupil and turned the tables on me soon after - going down on me repeatedly and reducing me to a quivering jelly of pleasure.

CC: Are you still seeing her?

Beth: Yes, but she's had to go back home - remember she's an American. I'm going out there soon, and she's coming back with me for a few months. I can hardly wait!

CC: It's good to know that things have turned out nicely for you Beth. Thanks for giving us your story. It was very entertaining and of course, exciting, and so much more than just the masturbating story you said it was. Hopefully it will inspire a few more women to wank on the bus and at the office. It's a great idea to get people back on public transport.

Beth: It was most definitely a pleasure telling you my story, and now I'm just off to get the bus home.

CC: Don't worry about that - I'll give you a run home in the car.

Beth: Hmm... that's really nice, but I'm really turned on, can I wank in the car?

CC: "Ah - now there's the rub," to quote Shakespeare's Hamlet.

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