The Visitor Ch. 01.2

"The Visitor" - Clara's story (Chapter 1.2)

"Oops I think we just broke your husband" said my friend. I giggled and replied, "by the extent of the mess in here, I think he had fun".

My friend Jasmine was good at summing up a situation, and this one had left me on my hands and knees, in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning wiping up a puddle of my husband's cum.

My eye level afforded me a perfect view of Jasmine's dripping wet pussy and I had the distinct impression that it was this, not my pussy, that had made Ari cum so spontaneously. I wasn't however without sympathy for Ari, as it was the same wet pussy that had been my first sexual experience all those years ago at university.

Ari showing Jasmine his naked hairless feminised body and tiny pink chastity cage hadn't been his idea either, I'd architected the situation.

Tipsy from a great night out and excited to be with Jasmine again I'd shared Ari's situation; that he was basically a girl in the bedroom, hadn't been in my pussy in years and was permanently caged to prevent erections. Jasmine was curious, and rather than answer her obvious questions I'd called Ari down from the bedroom where he was asleep.

The confidence Ari displayed when asked to disrobe in front of Jasmine, had irked me so much, I'd upped the stakes by masturbating in front of him. When Jasmine had joined in, like old times, this had been far too much for Ari (a regular premature ejaculator way before being caged and denied).

I loved Ari deeply, but he would be the first to admit that being an alpha male professionally did not extend to the bedroom, where he was a true submissive.

"I think I'd better get some sleep" Jasmine said, getting up from her chair.

I smiled, "Night night, thanks for a lovely, and memorable time".

Jas headed for the guest room upstairs; her departure abrupt but far more sedate than my husband's panicked flight minutes earlier.

I was turned on by dominance, but not in the cruel sadistic way a dominatrix is portrayed in movies. I liked helping someone lose themselves in sexual ecstasy, and felt accomplished and validated as a result. In some way I envied the strength and depth of the physical responses that Ari and Jas seemed to experience.

While I enjoyed an orgasm, I used it mainly to diffuse my sexual tension, a sort of "off switch", rather than it being the main goal. The orgasms I craved were those coaxed or forced from others, preferably more than one, and particularly prized if my sub didn't believe there was an orgasm left to give.

With Jasmine the dom-sub dynamic had been instantaneous and chemical like only young love can be, even if our first time had surprised and shocked us both afterwards.

Ari and I in contrast, had seemed the most normal and logical thing in the world, until a toxic mix of vaginismus and premature ejaculation had hollowed out our sex life until there was nothing left. In retrospect we were attempting to act out traditional vanilla gender roles, rather than be true to ourselves.

Ari certainly didn't know about my lesbian first experiences, which is what made his feminisation journey initially so confusing for me. I'd adjusted, and my sex life with Ari had developed a chemistry I hadn't felt since my relationship with Jasmine.

As emotionally grounded as I'd become, I certainly hadn't been prepared for what having them both under the same roof would feel like.

I finished up in the kitchen, turned out the lights and climbed the stairs to the bedroom where Ari was fast asleep. After a quick shower I climbed in beside Ari and ran my hand across his soft hairless body until I felt his chastity cage, he stiffened in response, but I could tell that only place it registered was deep in his dreams.

I'd not intended to finger Jasmine's pussy in front of Ari, and certainly never intended to give away that Jasmine had once been my lover, but Ari certainly knew now.

I wasn't worried. Ari might be a sexual submissive, but in everyday life he was calm and self-assured, I doubted he would feel threatened. Also, he had once admitted to a fantasy about being cuckolded, one which my fear of penetration and dominant nature rendered untenable.

As to the effect on Jasmine, I imagined her lying awake, in the guest bedroom, her soaked pussy throbbing in anticipation -- that was after all our "origin story".

Jasmine and I had been on the same course at University, the same student accommodation and same hallway.

The course was small and tight knit and everyone received the same assignments at the same time. The competition for textbooks and papers from the library was intense, so sharing references and collaboration was a must. Groups formed of people sharing, and while there were 6-7 people in our clique, Jasmine's room was so close to mine we studied most nights together.

Student rooms were not big and with a wardrobe, book-shelf, desk, chair, double bed and en-suite they were not made for entertaining. It was thus not unusual for Jasmine and I to study on or in the bed in our pyjamas, and not uncommon to snooze together surrounded by lecture notes.

One evening, after a loo visit, I climbed back into bed over the slumbering Jasmine only to feel wetness in the sheets.

"Eww you've wet the bed" I said in an injured tone, throwing off the sheets.

Jasmine's sleep shorts were indeed soaked and I demanded she take them off. Judging by the consistency, the wetness definitely wasn't pee, it was viscous and clear.

I was captivated by what lay before me. Her pubic mound was prominent, pink and perfectly hairless. Her inner and outer lips were spread wide apart and so engorged with blood it made her folds blush. Her wetness accentuated the many shades of pink, and with perfect timing Jasmine queefed and gaped so that I could see right inside her.

I later described it to her as "a very Honest pussy". Certainly, there was no need for words, which was good, as we were both locked in a stunned silence.

I was fascinated, I'd never seen anything so beautiful; it was the perfect physical embodiment of genuine, sincere and forthright lust.

Drawn by an insatiable curiosity I reached out a single finger and lightly touched her wetness. It was as if Jasmine had received an electric shock, she tensed and arched her back with a shuddering intake of breath. The intensity of her reaction shocked and excited me in equal measure.

"Touch me again", Jasmine pleaded in a shaky voice and this time I traced between her inner and outer labia upward with two spread fingers ending at her clitoris. With each touch, trace or rub her body squirmed and she thrusted to meet my fingers, all the time she breathlessly whispered encouragement. She was totally lost in her passion, totally vulnerable... that I had the power to put her in this state felt awesome.

"Two fingers, two fingers inside me", she instructed, "deeper, harder" her voice suddenly becoming more urgent. "You won't hurt me" she said, and sitting up and looking me in the eyes she rode my fingers.

In less than 10 thrusts she tensed, whimpered and her pussy gripped my fingers, spasmed rhythmically in orgasm and she went limp and fell back into the pillows.

"Hold me Clara, please", I leant forward and held her.

"I'm floating Clara" and she shook with the waves of her receding orgasm.

The aftermath was a confusing time for me, I'd loved the effect I'd had on Jasmine but was unsure about my sexuality. Jasmine had known from an early age that she was a lesbian, for her it was simple -- she was in love.

Back in the present I looked across at my sleeping husband and decided that I couldn't resist a cuddle with Jasmine.

Moments later in the guest bedroom I slipped naked into Jasmine's bed...

"Clara?" she mumbled sleepily.

I held her tight, bosom to bosom, and whispered, "do you remember our first time?".