Paula. Pimped at Pliates

Paula. A female friend is not what she seems.

When I had finished writing what follows, I looked back at it and realised that what I was describing was the extended period of my grooming. Essentially, those who groomed me took someone who had, over time and circumstances, become almost asexual. They sexualised her, and prepared her to accept what eventually happened to her. It may seem odd, but looking back I had to admire them - for a couple of reasons, one of which I'll explain at the end. Not least of these was the time and effort that they were prepared to invest in me.

I met Helen in my Pilates class. She just seemed to appear one day, but then people did come and go. I don't know what made me notice her. She was younger than a lot of the other ladies - in her thirties was my guess. Just a little older than me. One thing that struck me immediately was her confidence. She would chat with anyone, and most people seemed to like her.

Given that we were similar in age, I suppose it wasn't surprising that we would hit it off. We started going for coffee after class, and would sit and chat about the class, the instructor, and the other women - they were all women. I started to look forward to meeting her. Over the weeks I got to know that she had a partner, had no children, and lived not far away. She got to know that I had no partner, and no children.

Our friendship continued to grow, and one day after class she suggested that we go back to hers for coffee. She had a nice small house nearby. I didn't ask whether it was rented or whether it belonged to her and her partner. It had a neat kitchen at the front of the house and patio doors overlooking a small garden at the back. As soon as we got there, she put on the coffee, installed me in the lounge with the patio doors, and disappeared upstairs briefly. We were both wearing slacks for pilates, but when she came back downstairs, she was wearing a skirt.

She must have seen a trace of puzzlement on my face. Why change into a skirt for a female friend? She explained "My partner Pete likes me to wear a skirt at home. I know it sounds a bit controlling, but he's not like that at all. He's happy for me to go and see whoever I like. It's just that he thinks skirts are very feminine, and I'm happy to do things that he likes."

She made it sound very reasonable. I must admit that I was intrigued by Pete. I wanted to know what sort of a man he was. She continued "He works as a TV and media engineer - fixing and installing TVs, DVDs, home cinemas - all that kind of thing. He works locally, so sometimes he gets the chance to pop back during the day. I only work three days a week now, at the doctor's surgery, so we often meet up during the week.

I wondered what went on at these mid-week meet-ups. We had a pleasant chat, and I admired the house and garden. It seemed to me that she was a lucky woman. I didn't stay long, just about as long as we would have stayed in a café.

A week later we were back at Helen's having coffee. She had already changed into her skirt. I heard the front door open and in walked Pete. She introduced us and we exchanged pleasantries. I said I was pleased to see him, and as I said it realised that it was true. He was a good-looking guy, about the same age as Helen. He had broadish shoulders and a narrow waist. The classic A-line look that makes women notice men's bodies. I had another reason to think that Helen was a lucky woman.

I should explain that I like men. The fact that I didn't have a partner or a boyfriend at the time didn't mean that I didn't. I'd had a boyfriend right through school, and when we left, we lived together for a while. His name was Brian. He was so laid back that he was almost horizontal. I distinctly remember that it was me who suggested we have sex that first time. We'd had a reasonable amount of sex after that but it was always much the same. I'd often initiate it. Brian would mount me, penetrate me. and thrust away to his climax. Then he'd turn over and go to sleep, leaving me lying there in the dark with a wet fanny. I'd have to deploy three fingers and a lot of imagination to reach my climax. I'd have to say that they were the best orgasms that I had during my time with Brian. Dissatisfaction with sex led to dissatisfaction with much else, and we didn't stay together long after we started having sex. There were other men later, but nothing that lasted.

Pete explained that he had a short gap between jobs, and rather than go a café, had decided to come home for a snack. Helen offered to make him a sandwich and they both went into the kitchen. I stayed in the lounge, stepped up to the patio doors and looked out at the garden. I discovered that if I turned my head I could see into the kitchen where Pete and Helen were standing at the worktop while Helen busied herself. They had their backs to me. I looked back at the garden. There was a cat out there, mooching around, probably looking for an unwary bird. Something made me turn my head again, and I saw Pete with his hand right up Helen's skirt, squeezing her bum. I quickly turned back to the garden. I had a feeling that Pete was looking my way to check whether I'd seen anything. I gave him no indication that I had, and sat back down in my chair. Pete didn't stay long, but took his sandwich and left. As he left, he called out "Bye Paula. See you some other time." I said goodbye and Helen came back into the lounge.

"I hope Pete didn't mind me being here" I said.

"Good heavens, no," said Helen. "He likes meeting my girlfriends. He jokes that my taste in women is almost as good as his!"

That made me smile. I had a feeling that there was a compliment in there somewhere.

"Paula, look. You might have got the impression that Pete wanted more than a sandwich just now."

I didn't say anything, but couldn't help a little chuckle. We both smiled.

Helen continued. "Don't worry about him. He won't be too disappointed. Sometimes it's good for him to wait. He brings it all back later, if you know what I mean."

My imagination was struggling to get a picture of life with Pete and Helen.

"Paula, you seem to be a girl who knows what men are like. Well, some men anyway. Most men in my experience. The fact is, Pete is a very sexy man, and I'm a very lucky girl. I never know when it's coming. That's why I always wear a skirt about the house, and I'll let you into a secret. I never wear knickers."

I almost put my hand to my mouth in shock, but realised in time how prudish that would make me look.

Helen had more to tell me. "One time, he bent me over the ironing board. I managed to slow him down enough to get the iron out of the way. Those ironing boards are sturdier than they seem! Another time, he propped my bum up on the worktop in the kitchen. Being in the kitchen, I think he used some olive oil to lubricate himself that day. God, that was good. Short, but very satisfying. In truth, I don't know what sets him off. Sometimes, I think he comes across some hot housewife while he's at work. But he brings it home to me."

"Wow!" I said. You really are a lucky girl, aren't you."

"I think so. I'm glad you see it the same way. Some women would be shocked, disapproving even. I think it's rather wonderful."

I didn't say so, but I had to agree. "Well, I'd better be going" I said. "Have a good time later!" We both laughed.

The more I came to know Helen, the more I came to like her. Her sexual confidence was infectious. Over the next few days, I found myself looking at attractive men, wondering whether any of them was a Pete. I was realising something about myself. I felt like I was waking up.

The next time I saw Helen, she promised to take me on a special shopping trip after class. She told me to bring a short skirt to change into. I couldn't imagine what she had in mind. I realised that I didn't have many short skirts, but I found a flared skirt one that I must have worn when younger. It was probably about twelve inches above the knee. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror. I wore a jacket over my top, I knew that I had a nice figure. For once in my life, I also knew that I looked sexy. After class, Helen and I changed into our skirts. We both wore flared skirts. Hers was shorter than mine. I guessed at least fifteen to eighteen inches above the knee. We were standing just outside the loos. There was no-one else around.

Helen said "I want to show you something." She turned around and briefly flipped up the back of her skirt. I got a flash of naked bum. She looked sexy before, now I didn't know what to think. She said "When you step out in a short skirt with no knickers, there's a frisson. You feel it, but everyone else seems to feel it also. You feel sexier, and because of this you look sexier. Tell me, Paula, have you ever stepped out in a short skirt with no knickers?" She didn't give me time to answer. "No, I didn't think so. That changes today. Hand them over."

"What, what do you mean" I stammered.

For reply she presented me with her open handbag. "Pop your knickers in here. I'd let you keep them, but I don't want you sneaking off to the loo and putting them back on"

She had the presence and command of a sergeant-major. I put my hands up under my skirt, pulled my knickers off and stuffed them into the corner of her bag, where she indicated. Once I'd done it, I couldn't believe what I'd done. I guess I felt what any woman would feel. It's only a scrap of material but without it I felt more vulnerable, but when I thought about it, I also felt more feminine.

We set off. Helen drove us to a large mall which was about 40 minutes away. We chatted on the way, but said nothing about our knickerless state. She asked me whether I had to be back at any particular time, and whether there would be anyone waiting for me. I said, no, I was all hers. We had a nice afternoon looking around the shops. I genuinely enjoyed a girly shop like this, looking, discussing, chatting, not necessarily buying. After a while Helen got us to sit on the edge of a large fountain they had in there. There was guy speaking on his phone, sitting on a bench about twenty feet away. We were sitting directly opposite. I saw his glance slide over our legs. That had happened quite a lot this afternoon. Helen said to me "Don't listen to what I say, but watch what I do, and keep on eye on chummy over there"

She turned her head toward me, and pretended to say something about a store away to our left. She twisted her body away from me and indicated the store with her hand. It was the way she twisted away. She left her right leg in place, and moved her left leg away to the left. Inevitably, her skirt gapped open. I saw our friend opposite stop in mid-sentence. He simply stared. I whispered to Helen "OK he definitely clocked that." She held the position for a couple of beats, and then closed her legs, and got to her feet. I followed suit and we wandered off to the left. As we went, she whispered "I do like to add some spice to people's lives when I can."

"You certainly spiced up his life" I said. "I'd guess his only regret is that he couldn't get to his camera fast enough." We both smiled. I felt a joy of camaraderie with Helen, as though we'd just scored a small victory. I was trying to imagine what our friend had seen, but I didn't dwell on it.

"Your turn next" she said. I was going to protest, but I knew she wouldn't let me off.

We continued walking around, dipping in and out of shops, until we came to a café. There were some tables inside, but also some 'outside' under the mall roof. Helen selected a table outside. She positioned a chair for me on the left of a table, and I could see that I was directly facing a man at the corner table. He was looking at his phone, but not speaking on it. Again, I could see his glance directed at my knees and thighs. She didn't sit directly opposite me but moved her chair slightly to the left so that our 'mark' had a clear view of me. She gave me careful instructions. They almost amounted to choreography.

She told me to order her a coffee if the waitress came, and disappeared into the café. I could see her through the window, standing almost opposite our 'mark' and watching him intently. The phone rang in my bag. It was on the chair next to me. I left my left leg where it was and moved my right leg so that I could twist away and reach into my bag for my phone. As I spoke on my phone I remained in that position, with my legs apart and my skirt wide open. Naturally it was Helen on my phone. I looked everywhere but at the man in the corner, while she gave me a running commentary.

"OK, he's got you. Suddenly he's lost interest in his phone. He's put it down on the table to concentrate his attention on you. The poor chap is absolutely riveted to you. He's looking around, I think he's wondering if anyone's watching, and if anyone can see what he's seeing. He hasn't noticed me in here. O my god, I think he's going for his cock! I'm coming back." She hung up and came back to the table. I put my phone back in my bag and closed my knees. Helen sat almost opposite me. Show over. My show was much longer than Helen's earlier.

Looking back, I realise that I could never have done what I did that day without Helen, and the day wasn't over yet. We continued to sit with our coffees, ignoring our 'mark', who was still sitting in his corner. The way Helen had choreographed everything, what he'd seen looked like a lucky accident. In no way did it look as though I had deliberately flashed at him. We were playing with these men, and it gave me a strange sense of achievement. Helen explained it to me "You're seeing something of your power as a woman. When it comes to sex, men are supplicants." Once again, I found myself admiring her sexual confidence.

We wrapped up our day at the mall, and Helen drove us back to hers. Once there I took my jacket off and we sat on her sofa, chatting, reviewing the day, discussing the various reactions we had provoked in the men we encountered. She said "I don't know about you, but all that excitement has worn me out. Lie down here with me for a moment" She laid her torso down on the outside of the sofa, and with her arm invited me to lay down on the inside. I did as she indicated. We laid our heads on the cushions, facing each other. This was the first time I'd got this close to Helen, and as we looked into each other's eyes, I realised what an attractive woman she was.

She said to me "We're great friends aren't we Paula?"

I felt a genuine affection for her. I said "I think you may be my best friend."

"Kiss me Paula" she said. She saw my reluctance. "Oh, it's OK. I know you're not gay. Neither am I. Think of it as friendship, if you must think of it. But better not to think about it at all. If you don't kiss me, I'm definitely going to kiss you. Your choice."

I kissed her on the lips. I felt a mixture of things. Surprise at finding myself kissing a woman, but more than that I felt that gorgeous thrill that you feel when you first kiss a man or a woman that you have never kissed before. It only applies to the first kiss. No matter how much you kiss afterwards, that feeling is irretrievable.

"That's nice," said Helen. "I could put up with a lot more of that." She kissed me back. A prolonged kiss, and I found myself responding. "You're a sexy woman, Paula. I noticed that when I first set eyes on you. Humour me, will you?"

She pushed at my shoulder so that I was lying flat on my back. She kissed me again and put her hand on my thigh. Any protest I might have made was stifled, and I felt a thrill at her touch. I genuinely had no idea what was happening, but I decided I didn't care. She ran her hand up my thigh, right into my crotch. She stopped at the very top of my thigh, and ran a finger over the ultrasoft skin that joined my thigh to my torso. "I'd love to know what this area is called." She told me "This is the softest skin on your whole body. Lovely isn't it." No-one had ever caressed me like this before. She ran two fingers over my pussy lips, from top to bottom, and back again. She pushed a single finger between my lips, and found my clit. She didn't rub or do anything, merely rested a finger on it. This was working for me. She was a woman, and she knew exactly what I needed as another woman.

At last, she started to manipulate my clit. Not rubbing, just pushing it from one side to the other. I felt my juices starting to flow. She spoke to me "Delicious isn't it, this feeling. Men rarely have any idea what they're doing when it comes to our pussies. Trust me, I know what you need." I laid there, luxuriating in my pleasure.

She dipped a finger into me, and spread my juices over my clit. Then she went back to the well with two fingers and rubbed the juices over my clit and over my pussy lips. I started to think about the orgasm I might achieve if this treatment continued. Then three fingers were rubbing juices over my clit and down over my lips. I had a wet fanny.

Suddenly, Helen disengaged from me and sat up. Pete was there. I didn't know what was happening. She said to me "It's alright honey. We're going to take good care of you." Helen took both my hands in hers and pulled me into a sitting up position. She reached down for the edge of my top and pulled it up over my head. Then she walked behind me. She unclipped my bra, pushed the straps off my shoulders. She said to me "Oh, you've got such perfect breasts." I knew they were good, full, but not too full, with soft light brown nipples that pointed horizontally. With a gentle pull on my shoulders she pulled me back into a prone position. Pete looked on. He was fully clothed. I started to say "No, I..." but she smiled at me and said again "It's OK honey. We're going to take such good care of you."

Pete came over and sat beside me. He took my hand in his, and then reached down and took the nipple of my right breast into his mouth. The sudden male touch was initially disconcerting and, frankly, frightening. I could smell his male smell, so different to Helen's. He was very gentle. He put his hand to my right breast and chafed the nipple with his thumb. I felt that I should be doing something, but it was as though I had no room for manoeuvre. Pete disengaged from my breasts. He looked down at me and said "Paula, you're a gorgeous-looking woman. I'm going to make sure you have a good time."

He put his left hand on my shoulder, and his right on my thigh. He pushed his hand up under my skirt and I felt his finger push between my lips and descend onto my clit, where Helen's finger had been just a minute before. He said "You know, a woman needs a cock to have a decent orgasm." He kissed me, and despite the circumstances, there it was again, that deep thrill that you get from kissing someone you've never kissed before.

He stood up. I lay prone and watched as he stripped off his top. I'll admit to getting a thrill on first seeing his muscled torso. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his trousers and pants down and over his thighs in a single movement. His erection was almost horizontal. I hadn't seen a penis for some time. Initially, I looked away, but when he put his knees between mine on the sofa, his penis was all I could see. He was kneeling between my thighs. I watched as he put a condom on his sizable erection. There was no false modesty with Pete.

He pushed my skirt up over my waist. Then he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me towards him. My legs splayed apart. I had never been so exposed. I was positioned to give Pete maximal access, and maximum pleasure. Looking down, I could see exactly what he was doing. He pushed the head of his cock between my open pussy lips. He probably only had two inches inside me, but even so I knew that I would struggle to accommodate him. I must have winced as he pushed another two inches into me. He said "It's OK, we'll take it slow. Just relax." He withdrew a little and I felt a sense of relief. But I knew it was only a preamble to more pressure. My vulva had to be stretched, a bit like a woman in childbirth but nowhere near as extreme. He pushed in again, and again I winced. Helen came over and put her hand on my forehead. My brow was furrowed. She smoothed it, and then kissed it. It was comforting to have her there.