The Portrait on the Wall

"Go on, further in."

Charlotte stepped forward, took a breath and launched herself into the water and swam. At first the water seemed a little cold, but her body soon accepted the change in temperature and she enjoyed the sensation of swimming through the soft fresh water feeling her way forward in the dark. It was so very different from the harsh light of the day; the moonlight's softness made the world seem gentle and mysterious. Charlotte had not appreciated how free it felt to swim without a costume. She had never done that before: never even thought of doing that. Wearing a swimming costume, whether her sensible black all-in-one school costume or one of her pretty bikinis, was what she did without thinking because it was correct and normal. But that night was not normal; it was a night of surprises and discoveries. Charlotte wondered what else that would be new to her that night?

She turned and looked back at the silhouette of Lady Arabella still sitting on the edge. The lady still there. She had not disappeared as easily as she had appeared. Charlotte swam back across the water, made silver by the moonlight,

"Aren't you coming in Lady Arabella, the water is lovely?"

"My pardon, I was distracted by watching you swimming, such a pretty sight, your sweet young limbs parting the water, your round dimpled bottom peeking out. It reminded me of days past." She sighed, "Oh yes indeed, I am coming in!"

They swam in the stillness of the night out into the pool towards a small island that had been created in the pool when it was first dug. It was not large, having a couple of trees and a patch of grass for picnics and kept mown with some difficulty. Charlotte had been there many times by rowing boat for picnics and it was always a special place to her. Lady Arabella reached the island first and Charlotte saw her stand naked and silver in the moonlight and beckon to her.

"Come lie here with me."

It was good to sit on the grass of the island and feel it directly with her naked bottom. She looked out over the stillness of the pool. She had been to the island many times before but not at night and not under such strange circumstances. The old house stood across the lawn silent and dark. Charlotte should have been in it, would have been asleep in her bed had it not been for her unexpected and remarkable visitor. She turned to look at Lady Arabella who had settled down the more. Mad herself particularly comfortable. She was flat on her back, her knees drawn up a little way, but rather open. Her feet planted apart so her sex, framed by her curly hair, was very visible in the moonlight streaming across the water. Charlotte was surprised at the sight, surprised at the immodest posture and could not help staring at the open folds of Lady Arabella's secret place. She looked up, embarrassed to see that Lady Arabella had observed -- had seen what Charlotte was looking at and was smiling at her.

"A woman's body is a beautiful thing, is it not?"

Charlotte nodded. She could not disagree.

"Have you been with a man?"

The suddenness of the question surprised Charlotte and she blushed again, "I'm sorry, Lady Arabella, but what do you mean, do you mean am I a virgin?"

A smile. "Yes, that is exactly my meaning."

"Of course. I have not..." Charlotte might have said she had not had opportunity.

"Of course? But do you dream of men in your bed when you play with yourself."

"I..."

"Come, come girl, all girls play with their bubbies and fannies." Lady Arabella wriggled down the grass to lie next to Charlotte. "It is what they do. Have you perhaps then played with a friend?"

Charlotte wondered for a moment. She did not have a boyfriend. "You mean a girl friend?"

"Indeed, that is exactly what I mean. Have your slim fingers caressed another girl's bubbies, perhaps stirred the hot pool between her legs and gently slipped your fingers inwards? Played the part of a man?"

"No, no of course not."

"Why? It is the loveliest thing, two women caressing and sharing their secrets. I think you should try. Indeed, yes, I shall show you."

Charlotte made to protest, but already Lady Arabella's fingers were stroking the sides of her small breasts. She did not, in any case, like to refuse her, Lady Arabella did have such a commanding voice and it was so lovely on the island in the middle of the silver pool. She was not sure she could have refused, had she even been minded to. It was as if her own will had become subject to this formidable woman from the past. The night felt mysterious and, even since she had started down the stairs, had seemed to have a sense of naughtiness to it. Why should she not feel the caress of another woman and return the favour? She closed her eyes.

The stroking fingers began to have an effect. The coldness of the water had caused her little nipples to erect but now the insistent stroking caused the blood to warm and harden them. Charlotte gasped as Lady Arabella's fingers, having worked their way closer and closer to the areolae, now rubbed her hard nipples sending little electric shivers through her body. She felt as she did when her own young hands played with her breasts, her sex began to moisten and her secret lips to swell.

Charlotte opened her eyes and looked at Lady Arabella's breasts. She needed to return the favour. With trepidation she reached out and repeated the stroking she had received but, of course, there was much more to stroke and play with. Lady Arabella's breasts were so much more mature. Indeed, not only were her breasts much larger, so too were her nipples. Charlotte's little hands lifted, feeling the weight, so different from her own.

"Suck them m'dear," whispered Lady Arabella, again not so much as a request as a command.

For the first time since she had been a baby, Charlotte took a nipple into her mouth. Her own breasts were not large enough to let her suck her own nipples, though she had tried pulling the larger breast (her right) to her mouth. She had not, so much as, been able to lick the tip of the pulled nipple with her tongue. A disappointment. She ran her tongue around Lady Arabella's nipple and sucked it, areole as well, into her mouth. Lady Arabella moaned, opening and closing her generous thighs, clearly pleased with the attention they were receiving. Charlotte played with Lady Arabella's breasts for some time, burying her face in the valley, the oft-admired cleavage, trying to take two nipples into her mouth at one time (and succeeding) and licking the red cherries until they shone wetly in the moonlight. Once started she seemed to be unable to stop enjoying them -- enjoying the play.

Lady Arabella got up and eased Charlotte down onto her back, so she lay there on the grass. She stood over Charlotte looking down at the girl before lowering herself to sit astride the now prone Charlotte, right on her hips. For the first time their thickets of hair were touching, albeit only just; the dark and the fair curls mingling a little and exchanging dampness. She lent forward and kissed Charlotte full on the lips. Charlotte was a little surprised but allowed her lips to part to admit the questing tongue. She had not kissed full on the mouth before and was inexperienced in the dance of tongues: but she began to learn.

From Charlotte's mouth Lady Arabella's experienced lips and tongue moved to her little breasts coaxing more excitement and pleasure from Charlotte, who wriggled this way and that under the stimulating onslaught. Her mound, with its sprouting dark hairs rubbing against that of the older woman through her thicket of fair golden curls. Lady Arabella bit on Charlotte's little right nipple causing her to squeal and yet more moisture to drip into the wet folds between her legs. Lady Arabella dismounted and rolled to the side of Charlotte and began to stroke her dark hairs and run her finger down Charlotte's little slit. She teased, making her fingers venture out onto the smooth skin of Charlotte's thighs away from her sex, onto skin silky wet with moisture from her sex.

"Shall I touch you there?" asked Lady Arabella, "Would you like that, I know you will, and I shall do it!" Her fingers ran over the edge of the outer lips, brushing the sparse dark hairs and into the hot wet pool of Charlotte's sex. Charlotte's hips began to buck of their own accord naturally finding the motion of sex, trying to push the teasing fingers into her as if a penis. Lady Arabella kissed her on the lips. "Slowly, my sweet miss, slowly. It then will be your turn to stir my honey pot." The teasing fingers were withdrawn. Through the haze of arousal and, obedient to Lady Arabella's command, Charlotte turned to look at Lady Arabella's splayed legs and open sex. She touched the riot of fair curls seeking the slit, as Lady Arabella had done. The curls were damp and, as Charlotte bent for a closer look, the warm wet scent of aroused woman came to her nostrils. In the silvery moonlight she could see the details of her companion's sex. She set to play as Lady Arabella had played with her. The softness to the touch, the wetness and the complexity of Lady Arabella's folds fascinated her. Gently with the fingers of both hands she pulled the long lips apart revealing Lady Arabella's own entrance and the aroused and prominent clitoris.

"Come on my girl, you know what to do."

Charlotte's fingers moved inwards, stroking and playing as she had so often done with herself and as the Lady Arabella had so recently done to her. She pushed a pair of fingers into her, into Lady Arabella's accommodating vagina. Her fingers slipped in easily, it was much more open than her own tight vagina, but of course it had been much practised upon. She ventured towards Lady Arabella's prominent clitoris and was surprised not only by the feel of its size and hardness but also by the violent reaction of the lady herself to the first touch. Lady Arabella's hips bucked, and she grabbed for Charlotte pulling her down tightly on top of her so their pubic bones and covering of curls were tightly drawn together. Charlotte found herself locked in a tight embrace, mouths open to the other and Lady Arabella struggling to rub her sex against Charlotte so that her tender folds were pulled and excited. It was a sudden change from gentle caressing. Was this how it was with impatient, imperious and insistent men? A sudden tensing of Lady Arabella's body indicated to Charlotte that orgasm had come, there had been little delay.

"Oh my sweet, what bliss, what rapture. The joy, the pleasure! Wait, oh yes, no hurry, we have all night. Let me recover, I shall, I must do the same for you and, moreover, I must taste you." Once more Lady Arabella kissed her on the lips, and smiled, "there are other lips to kiss you know." Charlotte's eyes widened. Surely the lady was not... She had imagined a young man -- had imagined things in bed when alone but surely... Charlotte only had a moment for such thoughts before Lady Arabella knelt between her legs, gently put her arms under Charlotte's thighs and pulled them upwards, opening the thighs, opening Charlotte's sex and bringing it close to her own face. She bent forward and to Charlotte's joy, yet even surprise, kissed her right between her legs.

"But..." said Charlotte but then the delightful feeling, the wonderful sensation of a tongue swirling around the entrance to her vagina came to her. The excitement of not knowing where the tongue would venture next. "Ooh, I, oh yes, Lady Arabella." It was just too good, Charlotte found herself squeezing her own nipples as Lady Arabella continued to nibble her secret places, moving steadily closer to Charlotte's own little clitoris. Her own little man. The feeling was building.

Across the pool a fox could be seen coming silently across the lawns. It paused, sniffing the air and listening. Something was different tonight, something it was not used to. It turned and retreated back the way it had come, unsure but prudent. The sound of a cry from the island in the pool caused it to break into a run. Charlotte had orgasmed.

The two women lay on the grass on the little island in the middle of the pool looking out over the water to the house silhouetted in the moonlight. The air was warm and still and the night surprisingly quiet. Two women, naked and entwined.

"This has always been a favourite place," said Lady Arabella, "as a girl I used to gaze upon the isle and wish to reach it. I had it remodelled when I became mistress. I came here often and not alone."

"It is my favourite too. But how do you come to be..."

"Oh nothing, nothing you don't need to ask that. Ah, we have the night and what a wonderful night. Look at that moon. Come let us bathe." Her tinkling laugh. "Wash away the sticky hotness -- for a time."

Charlotte watched Lady Arabella swimming for the shore before she too slipped into the cool water. It felt so soft on her skin as again she felt the freedom of swimming naked, free of the constrictions of a swimsuit or bikini, very much being as one with nature. She resolved in future to swim naked in the daytime when others were not around, to be free, a veritable child of nature. She broke into a crawl for the sheer pleasure of the idea and swam, a lithe silvery fish in the moonlight, a circuit right around the island before joining Lady Arabella on the bank.

"Come, let us walk as we dry." Lady Arabella took her hand and they set off across the lawns. It still felt strange but exciting to Charlotte to be walking hand in hand with a naked woman around the grounds in the moonlight. The grass was dry underfoot, the summer had been long and there was little moisture around to cause a dew, one of those rare but perfect English nights when one can sit out long into the evening and beyond without feeling cold from a creeping dampness in the air.

Lady Arabella's hand fondled her bottom, squeezing her cheeks, running her fingers in and around the dimples at the top and even running her finger over Charlotte's little bottom hole.

They brushed against some low bushes that released a powerful scent upon the night air, the scent of an aromatic oil.

"I love the scent of lavender," said Lady Arabella, "let us return to the house, to your bed. I long to make love to you again, my dear girl, on the softness of a feather bed between linen sheets scented with lavender." She pulled off sprigs of lavender and handed them to Charlotte. "Take these, we shall sprinkle the linen."

Hand in hand they walked to the house and ascended the moonlit stairs back up to Charlotte's room. Lady Arabella was in charge. Under her instruction Charlotte's bed was strewn with the lavender and Lady Arabella lay down in the middle evidently relishing the comfort sinking her head into the pillows. Naked her pose was not one of modesty, far from it, her thighs a little apart in a picture of abandonment and availability.

"Come my sweet, it is time for you to favour me with that pretty mouth of yours." Her thighs opened a little wider, "A little nibble, you - know what to do."

Charlotte knew. Charlotte had felt the delight, had opened to the Lady Arabella. She did as she was bid. Charlotte got up onto the bed and put her head between Lady Arabella's thighs; she paused, this was not something she had done before. There, before her, inches from her face were the warm wet folds of Lady Arabella's sex that she had been told to lick, suck and nibble just as Lady Arabella had done for her. Tentatively she stuck her tongue out and made contact, it was warm, wet and slightly tart on her tongue. The warm damp scent came to her and she leant forward brushing her lips across Lady Arabella's sex. Charlotte began to use her tongue in earnest, Lady Arabella's thighs closed around her head enveloping Charlotte in a warm, wet, scented world. Charlotte felt very comfortable, secure and happy as she explored Lady Arabella with her tongue, running the tip around the substantial bud of her clitoris or pushing it as far as she could right into Lady Arabella. She was surprised at the gushing wetness, revealing Lady Arabella's excitement and pleasure at Charlotte's work. Rising wet faced and smiling she kissed her mentor, a long deep passionate kiss as Lady Arabella drew Charlotte to her, their breasts touching and their secret curls once more mingling. The kiss was long. Charlotte was unsure what would or could come next.

Drawing apart, Charlotte stared at Lady Arabella's magnificent breasts. She did so wish her own were larger. As she looked, she noticed something odd, something unexpected, a hint of wetness, a patch of milky wetness seemed to be seeping from Lady Arabella's engorged right nipple. A patch, no, a bubble of white fluid obscured part of the ruby red nipple but surely it could not really be milk? As she watched the bubble grew and dripped falling onto the sheet. Lady Arabella looked down, "Oh dear me, that happens when you girls make me excited. Oh, sweet Charlotte, why not touch and see what results?"

Charlotte, intrigued, reached out and gently squeezed the breast, a spray of opaque fluid shot from the nipple across Charlotte's chest. Lady Arabella sharply drew in her breath at the feeling, "yes, yes again." Charlotte squeezed and was rewarded with another spray. Fascinated she reached out for the other breast and watched as both breasts produced, covering her own chest with a fine milky film. It was indeed milk, Lady Arabella was squirting milk. It began to drip uncontrollably, the drips forming on the red nipples, turning to rivulets and slipping down under her breasts and across her stomach.

"Suck, suck them, quickly," commanded Lady Arabella. Charlotte was not loath to try, she wondered what human milk tasted like, how warm and fresh it would be compared to bottled cows' milk from the 'fridge. The naughtiness of the act excited her. She bent to comply, sucking just the teat between her lips and, using an instinctive technique, one she had not used for many years, began to draw the milk from Lady Arabella's breasts. Lady Arabella, in her turn, was beside herself with pleasure. It had always been her joy to have her milky breasts worked by sweet girls. Of course, in her time there might have been one such to each teat and another between her thighs. They had been happy days, so very long ago.

Charlotte longed to have Lady Arabella suck milk from her own little breasts but they, of course, did not produce. "Please, please pretend Lady Arabella," she said. It seemed the woman was only too happy to oblige, clear she loved the feel of young breasts, to tease them with her mouth and tongue, holding the little buds between her teeth and pulling. She played with the little breasts licking her own milk from Charlotte's chest where the spray of milk had landed.

Charlotte was so excited; she did not pause to fathom the mystery of Lady Arabella's breasts. Why a woman who had, apparently, eschewed men should lactate so freely?

"Come, let us nibble each other together, let us put lips to lips and play follow the leader. What I do, you are to follow. I shall lie on the bed and you shall lie atop o' me but reversed. A great intimacy. Yes, that is it."

Charlotte realised that she was to once more place her face between Lady Arabella's thighs but to lie in the soixante-neuf position so that her own sex was available to Lady Arabella's darting tongue and questing lips.

Crouching over the prostrate woman, her own face inches from the soft curls and open thighs, Charlotte gently lowered her own sex towards the older woman's face. She had never felt so sexually excited before, it seemed as if her little clit was pulsing, as if it was throbbing. Any second now, she thought, a wet tongue would make contact with her. The anticipation was intense, all she had to do was lower herself. She was so wet, could she be dripping onto Lady Arabella? Dripping as the older woman's milk had dripped upon her.