Susan Finds her Place Pt. 01

Susan arrives at her place. Part 1

Susan trudged down the street, keeping her head low, but at the same time scanning the houses as she passed them by. She was on her way home from school but always took the long way home, so she could look at how the rich people lived. The Heights was a relatively small enclave of large individual houses, with big gardens and often screened by ornate hedges and shrubs. The flash and glistening water of swimming pools could often be seen through the foliage, sometimes accompanied by the splash of water or the soft cries of joy from someone playing in the water. She herself lived not too far away from this district, but in an area, though respectable, that had lost its gloss and was taking on the look of genteel neglect. Her parents and none of her neighbours had big gardens with swimming pools.

She sighed wistfully at the opulent surroundings and knew that this was forever beyond her reach. She had never done very well at school and didn't consider herself pretty enough to snag a rich husband. She'd always been a bit pudgy, and now her weight had seemed to migrate up to her chest, which made her very self-conscious, especially when her nipples sprang out as they sometimes did, she felt a freak. This was her last term at school, having just turned 18 the day before, the summer holidays were approaching, and she had no idea what she was going to do for the holidays, never mind the rest of her life. Her future was a formless grey mist; no plans, nothing to look forward to, no prospects. All she had was looking over the fences of the well-to-do and wishing it was her.

Melissa Foster was looking out of her kitchen window when she saw that girl again. She'd seen her pass by every so often of the past couple of years and guessed she was fairly local, but she knew she wasn't from around the neighbourhood. She looked at her critically. She was hunched down as if trying to disappear into the ground. Her posture was awful; rounded shoulders, head bowed. Her hair was lank and greasy. Her clothes were baggy and shapeless. She looked a mess. Still, over the last few years she'd seemed to lose her adolescent 'baby' fat. She was quite tall and had good bone structure. She really could do better, and Melissa should know; before she was married, she was a qualified beautician and personal trainer. It was as her husband's previous wife's beautician that she caught his eye, and when she'd died of cancer, she was there for him and the rest, as they say, was history.

John, her husband was a rich man and her kept her in the style to which she'd always wanted to become accustomed. However, he didn't make his money by sitting by the pool and Melissa was often alone when he was out and about, wheeling and dealing. She was bored, bored, bored, bored! And then she had it! This girl, this girl who looked like a walking disaster area, she would be her project. She would be her Eliza, she would transform her from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan! She'd always thought that she should keep her hand in, had maybe even toyed with the idea of opening a salon. John didn't approve of her working, but this, this would be her hobby! She noted the time and made plans to snare her prey the very next day.

Susan was walking home again from school, again through the Heights. Rounding a corner, she heard a voice calling, "Hey girl! Over here!" Melissa looked round and saw a woman waving frantically in her direction. She looked behind herself and seeing no one else, went over to see what the lady wanted. As she approached, she noted that the woman looked to be in her late twenties, maybe even as old 34 or 35, and very pretty. She was wearing a teeny-weeny string bikini that didn't leave much to the imagination, and Susan blushed as she caught herself staring at the woman's figure. "Can you come round and give me a hand? I need to move a garden table and it's too heavy for me alone."

While she was embarrassed and reluctant, she forced herself to say, "Of course."

Melissa led the way round the back, and the two of them manhandled a huge cast iron table with a marble top from one place to another. After several changes of mind the table was moved and Susan sat down, tired, hot and sweaty. Melissa disappeared and then came back with two glasses of lemonade, "Here, drink this, it looks like you need it." Susan was as usual, wearing black and heavy with it, despite the bright sunshine and warm weather. She was very hot, with her hair plastered to her face and her clothes sticking to her body. "I'm so sorry to have worked you so hard, you should really have a shower before you go."

"No, really, I'll be fine, I can have one at home." said Susan.

"Nonsense, I couldn't dream of you going home in that state. While you shower, I'll put your clothes in the wash and while they're being done, we can get to know each other!" Susan didn't know how to say no in the face of Melissa's determination.

"Well... I don't' know...I mean, I don't want to impose...I..."

"No, come with me". With that, Melissa led off Susan to the utility room shower. "I'm Mellissa, by the way, and you are...?"

"Susan, Susan Fairbright, I live over in the Valley Estate"

"Nice to meet you Susan, now, get undressed and into that shower. I'll bring you something to put on while I wash those clothes." Susan stood and fiddled with one of the buttons of her cardigan until Melissa said, "Come on now, there's no need to be embarrassed, we're all girls here."

Susan undressed awkwardly, she was incredibly embarrassed, and was blushing furiously. While pretending to be completely uninterested, Melissa kept making covert glances towards Susan - she wanted to see what she had to work with. As the clothes came off, Melissa fought hard to hide her surprise and pleasure. The girl had potential! Her breasts were full and firm, and she was of an age when they could seem to defy gravity, they were capped by large puffy nipples that slowly hardened and extended into spectacular nubs. Her legs were long for her height and went up to flaring hips and a narrow waist.

There was a general softness and roundness to her body, and standing naked in front of a stranger, she seemed to be trying to shrink into herself. Her blush now extended all the way down to her breasts. While a good haircut, skin conditioning and makeup would work wonders, a tailored exercise regime would tauten those muscles, melt away the remaining baby fat, and improve her posture. Melissa mentally rubbed her hand in glee! She pushed the girl into the shower and gathered up all her clothes to put in the wash. She went to her wardrobe and made a careful selection. She brought out a white cotton and lace flirty sundress that should fall to mid-thigh, and was low cut enough to expose some decent cleavage. Back at the shower, she passed a clean towel to the girl and laid the dress over a chair. "When you've finished put that on and come out for some more lemonade."

Sometime later, Susan emerged from the house, again blushing from the roots of her hair to the tops of her breasts. Her underwear was gone! All she had on was this little cotton dress. She never wore a dress if she could help it! And here she was in a little thing of a dress, and more, she was naked underneath! She made her way slowly to where Melissa sat with two new glasses of lemonade. "My, don't you look so pretty in that dress! You must keep it, it suits you so well!"

"Oh, I couldn't, it wouldn't be right!"

"Nonsense, I have far too many clothes and I was going to have a clear out anyway."

"Well..."

"No, that's it settled, you keep the dress!" As the afternoon passed, Susan became a little more relaxed, though the occasional puffs of breeze up her dress kept reminding her of her nakedness. Melissa talked and talked, and she learned about her former career, her marriage and her dissatisfaction at her trophy wife status and her loneliness. Susan enjoyed her company too - she had few friends of her own age, and the differences in their ages seemed to bring them closer, rather than separate them.

Eventually Susan said she had to go. "Do you think my clothes are ready now?" She couldn't wait to get back into something familiar. A feeling had been growing in her as the afternoon drew on, and she wasn't entirely comfortable with it.

Melissa said, "of course, just a minute, they'll need to go in the dryer first, but please say you'll come back tomorrow, I've so enjoyed your company?"

"Well, I don't know, I mean..."

"Oh, you must say yes!"

"Well..."

"That's it settled then; I'll expect you at 3.00!"

Moments later, Melissa came back, crestfallen. "Stupid me, I forgot to switch the machine on, your clothes are still all sweaty and dirty!"

"Oh no!"

"Well, not to worry, the dress is yours, you can pick up your clothes when you come back tomorrow!"

"But I can't go home like this!"

"Of course you can, you look very pretty!" Even the black chunky ankle boots that she arrived in only emphasised the frilly dress. "Now, off you go before your Mum gets worried, and I'll see you tomorrow." With that she pushed her out of the door.

All the way home, Susan was frantic that the wind would reveal her lack of underwear, or that people would notice her hugely prominent nipples, kept constantly hard by the sway of her breasts dragging them across the lace bodice. The feeling that was building all afternoon intensified, a burning tension that built in her lower abdomen, with sparks from her nipples going straight to her sex.

Eventually she made it home, running upstairs to fling herself on the bed. Her hands clenched with need of...something. She pulled up the dress and caressed the inside of her thighs, bypassing her sex and moving to her abdomen, just above her mound. She could feel herself wet, 'down there', with her secretions running down to her bottom. She knew what other girls did. What bad girls did. They rubbed themselves 'down there'. Mommy had told her that good girls didn't touch themselves there, and once, when she had caught Susan exploring herself, she'd got very cross indeed. She wanted to rub herself. She didn't know what she needed, but it was centred 'down there'. It was probably an orgasm-thingy, that some of the other girls talked about, but she'd never had one and didn't know if she could. Eventually, she took the dress off, put on some of her heaviest duty underwear, jeans and a sweatshirt. It felt so very familiar and comforting, but a tiny corner of her mind unconsciously missed the freedom of that little flirty dress.

Once more, Susan found herself walking back from school, walking along Mrs. Foster's road, just like yesterday. She wondered if she had the nerve to knock on her door. She was sure that if she didn't have to retrieve her clothes, she would chicken out, despite the fact that she found her so friendly and welcoming. Her birthday had turned out to be a bit of a non-event. Her Mommy had given her a nice gold necklace and had bought a cake, and had promised a little family celebration, but Susan didn't expect much. She'd had a coffee and a cake with a couple of friends from school the previous lunchtime, but that was about it. She'd looked at the little dress this morning but hadn't dared put it on. Eventually, she came to the house, but hesitated to go any further. She stood there, stuck, for a while, and was about to carry on home when Mrs. Foster poked her head out of a window and called her to come in.

Melissa had been watching for the girl for about 20 minutes. She'd watched her about to keep walking and had seized the moment and called her to the house. She watched her come towards the house, her walk even more despondent than usual. She put on a bright cheery face and opened the door. "Come in, Susan, let's sit down and have a chat over a cool glass of lemonade."

"Well, I just came to collect my clothes - all they all done?"

"Yes, of course," said Melissa, "but there's plenty of time for that later, come in and tell me why you look so miserable!"

"It's nothing really..."

"Don't give me that, I know you well enough, even after such a short while, that I can tell something is wrong. Tell me!" Melissa said, rather forcibly, is seemed, to Susan's ears.

Susan started hesitantly, "Well, it was my birthday the day before yesterday, I'm eighteen, and it just seems so anticlimactic."

"Your 18^th Birthday! Well, belated congratulations! But why are you so unhappy?"

Susan continued, "Well, the birthday wasn't much and when I look into the future, it just seems so...hopeless."

"Well, we can't have that, we must celebrate! I'll open a bottle of Champagne!"

"Oh," said Susan, "I couldn't do that, I've never drank Champagne before."

"If a woman can't drink Champagne to celebrate her birthday, then there's something not right with the world. Go out to the garden, sit down, and I'll be right back." So saying, Melissa pushed Susan towards the back door, and Susan found herself sitting at the same heavy table she had helped Mrs. Foster to move yesterday. Mrs. Foster called her a woman. Was she really a woman now? Somehow, she didn't feel it. She sat musing about what happened yesterday, and the memory of herself in that little dress, especially with nothing on underneath, sent a shiver through her body, which went straight to 'down there'.

Melissa, bustled out from the house carrying a tray with a bottle of Champagne and two crystal tulip Champagne glasses. She popped the cork and caught the foaming champagne in one glass, then the other. "A toast to a beautiful woman, at the threshold of adulthood! May you always have Champagne on your birthday! Cheers!" Susan drank quickly to hide her embarrassment. The bubbles went up her nose as the wine went down her throat, and she was sure she'd tasted nothing so wonderful.

Melissa topped up the girl's glass and over the next hour, she'd kept up a lively conversation with the girl. She could see her gradually succumb to the effects of the wine - Champagne could always sneak up on you unawares. She noticed that the girl was shifting uncomfortably in her seat, and she asked what was wrong. "I think I must have strained some muscles yesterday, moving this table - I'm a bit sore."

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry! I keep myself quite fit - I have a fitness room here, and I spend rather a lot of time in there when I'm bored. I never thought about you not being used to such physical activity, I'm so sorry! Let me make it up to you, I can give you a therapeutic massage that'll melt those aches and pains away."

"Oh, it's not that bad, really, I'll be OK."

"Please say yes, I feel so awful, we'll both feel better, and I never get a chance to practice my art anymore."

If it wasn't for the effects of the wine, Susan would have run off as fast as she could, but she was feeling a bit woozy and pliant and when she said, "Well...", Mrs. Foster immediately went into action and helped her up and guided her back into the house and into the fitness room. The woman's arms around her felt very comforting to Susan. When Mrs. Foster told her to get undressed, Susan was overcome by shyness, but the women told her that she was a professional and should trust her completely.

"Here, I'll help you off with your things, lie face down on the table and you can place these little towels over your privates." Susan still hesitated, but with the effects of the wine and her no-nonsense attitude, Mrs Foster soon had her out of her clothes and lying on the massage table.

Melissa started with warm oil drizzled onto the girls back, and she soon felt the girl relax as she deeply massaged her shoulders and back. She moved down to her feet and started to slowly massage her legs, gradually moving up to her thighs. As she neared the little towel over her bottom, she felt tiny movements from the girl, unconsciously pushing her bottom towards her masseuse's hands. Just what she'd been hoping for! Everything was going to plan. "Do you mind if I remove the towel? I need to work your gluteal muscles."

"N...No...I suppose..." answered Susan hesitantly. The wine, the massage, she was in heaven!

Melissa removed the towel and dripped oil over her bottom and started massaging it deeply. "She needs more muscle tone, especially here," thought Melissa. She continued to massage, getting nearer to her pussy, but carefully avoiding any direct contact. The girl was unknowingly spreading her legs a little and arching her bottom upwards. Melissa could see her pussy lips through a sparse covering of hair, which was already matted with her juices. Not wanting to take it too far at this stage, she asked Susan to turn over so she could do her front. Susan was loathe to have the wonderful massage interrupted, but turned over, clutching towels in each hand to cover her breasts and sex, and blushing strongly. Melissa stated off slowly on her shoulders, gradually moving down her chest until she was caressing the upper slopes of her breasts. At each pass, the towel slipped further and further, until it had slipped off completely. Susan was gradually aware that the woman was now frankly massaging her breasts. She was embarrassed, but the feeling of her soft hands dragging across her sensitive nipples was so nice that she convinced herself that as a professional masseuse, Mrs. Foster must know what she was doing. The stimulation of her nipples was sending pulses of sensation to 'down there', and she was grateful for the remaining towel covering what she was sure to be her very wet sex.

Mellissa could feel through her hands and hear the small gasps that signalled increasing arousal in the girl. She left the girl's turgid nipples and placed both hands around the front of one thigh and made a slow pass upwards. She had angled her wrist so that at the end of each upstroke, the edge of her forearm pressed down over the girl's mound. At each stroke, the girl let out a quiet moan.

Susan was aware that Mrs Foster was accidently brushing her sex with her arm every time she massaged her leg. It was causing an incredibly powerful, but nice, sensation that seemed to grow stronger and stronger every second. A deep and powerful tension was building in her belly and she felt that if the woman didn't stop soon something terrible would happen. At the same time, she felt powerless to do anything about it. Melissa had almost stopped massaging the girl's legs, and her wrist was rhythmically rubbing the girl's pussy only. It wouldn't be long now. Suddenly, the tension that was building in Susan suddenly broke in a sheet of white light that shot straight from her sex and burst through her brain. She let out a scream, low and deep, then again and again. Eventually, she curled in and hugged herself, bursting into tears, sobbing desperately. Melissa hugged the girl to her, caressed her arms and held her close.

"What's wrong, my pet? Whatever is the matter?"

Through her sobbing, Susan tried to apologise, for having what was obviously one of those orgasms. She was obviously sick in the head, dear Mrs. Foster was only trying to help her, and she'd ruined everything by having her first cum at the hands of an almost-stranger!

"Was that your first orgasm, Susan?"

Susan hung her head in shame. "Yes, Mrs. Foster."

"Now, listen to me, Susan. My name is Melissa and I want to be your friend. You have nothing to be ashamed of, it's all perfectly natural. It used to happen all the time with my clients when I was working. I won't have you feeling you've done something wrong!"

Through her tears, Susan looked at Mrs. Foster: "No. Melissa..." she thought wondrously, hope in her eyes, "But..."

"I'll hear no more of any shame over this, Susan, is that clear? But I think we need to talk, you and I."

"Yes, Melissa." said Susan meekly.

"Have you never masturbated?" Susan panicked and looked blank. "Jilled off, rubbed yourself between your legs?"