Vix's Licks Pt. 01

This story is a work of fiction. The main characters are all imaginary. However it is interwoven with real people, places and events.

Some readers may remember Vix as a character in Savour Me Part 3, and that episode is revisited during this first part of Vix's story.

***

I never liked my name. Victoria. Whenever I think of it, my mind flicks to that fat, sour-faced Queen of England, dressed in frumpy black. As early as I can remember I wanted to get rid of it. I think my mum and dad would have been happy if I had adopted "Vicki" but once I was in junior school some of my friends started calling me "Vicks" and, by the time I was in secondary, I had restyled it to "Vix" and that has firmly stuck. I have embraced "Vix".

The name is my mum's fault. When she was a struggling musician on the USA's west coast, she was spotted and befriended by Vicki Peterson of The Bangles, who championed her as a vocal talent and brought her to the attention of influential contacts, resulting in her career taking off. Mum always felt a debt of gratitude to Vicki, so when I was born....Victoria it was.

Apart from being saddled with a crappy name, I'm a lucky little bitch really. My parents are rich; Dad is Jack Standen, lead singer, songwriter and guitarist of the successful British rock band The Chootes, and Mum is the million-selling American singer Tessa Marshall, so by any standards my family is loaded.

Dad came from a working-class background though; it was always important to him to keep me firmly grounded, and his no-nonsense, unpretentious philosophy has definitely formed the core of my personality. For a rich kid, I'm pretty down-to-earth, I think.

Having said that, my parents didn't deprive me of anything, or place artificial restrictions or repressions on me. I was brought up to believe that life was for living and we should embrace all the joy we can get out of it. Having money just makes that a bit easier, that's all.

So, I learned to play guitar (of course) piano and saxophone, got into mountain biking, and later motorbikes and cars. I guess in that respect there's a bit of tomboy in me. I also bought myself a boat. We live on the banks of the Thames, near London, so boats have been a part of my life since we moved there when I was only 5 years old.

Dad had spent time in the US, where he met Mum, and I was actually born there, but as soon as they were both career-secure, Dad brought Tessa over to the UK to live. She's always been a bit of an Anglophile anyway.

As a youngster, I was only interested in playing my instruments, singing, riding my bikes, and kayaking on the river, and I guess I was a slow starter, sexually. I don't really remember having any sexual feelings until I was in 6th Form. It was around then that I started touching myself in my bedroom, and discovered what sexual pleasure was. Previously, I'd spent a lot of time practicing my guitar licks, but then I found something that was finger-licking good and there was no going back.

This was truly a time of wondrous discoveries, like wet orgasms (I found to my great joy I was a squirter) and multiple orgasms. OMG. Once I found that I could come over and over again there was no stopping me. I would drive myself to O after O, only stopping when tenderness and sensitivity made my clit untouchable and there was a curious ache in my abdomen.

After a session like this, I would sleep super-deeply, and have fantastic erotic dreams, then wake up so hungry I was like a ravening beast, raiding the kitchen. My mum thought it was just the normal hunger of developing teens, and maybe it was. All of it.

As my body developed, I began to see myself more and more as a sexual creature, and an attractive woman, though I was a little disappointed that I hadn't quite inherited my mother's curves. Mum is a bit taller than me, more busty, and very sexy. My dad has great taste.

Still, my figure was good, and I soon started attracting the attention of boys, which led to my first sexual experience in the store room of the college gym. He seemed OK and I was feeling horny, so I thought 'why not.' It was a horrible mistake. A rushed, clumsy, fumbling affair, which I don't think lasted much more than a minute. It wasn't just disappointing, I really didn't like it. When he kissed me afterwards, my natural reaction was to recoil, and I wondered why. It wasn't meant to be like this, was it?

In fact, if didn't take me long to realise I didn't fancy boys at all, but I was more and more excited by girls or, to be more accurate, women. I found I especially liked older women, like Dad's keyboard player Lindi. I guess she was around 40 (i.e. more than twice my age) when I first took a sexual interest in her but she had a great figure, with long legs and a very impressive cleavage that I couldn't take my eyes off.

Dad has a small studio at the back of the house, so band members were regular visitors and whenever Lindi came I was all agog. I'm sure I blushed whenever she looked at me. She always wore tight trousers and very revealing tops and I realised I had a massive crush on her. I even started watching YouTube videos of Dad's band, just to get a glimpse of her.

I think she knew I had the hots for her and she would deliberately sit next to me on the sofa, and pat my leg, or flash me a sexy smile. Quite often, I'd have to go to my room to get myself off, just from seeing her.

I obviously realised by now I was gay, and I was cool with that. I didn't think there was anything wrong with being a lesbian, or even fancying the pants off older women, but I was a bit freaked when I realised I was also getting turned on by my mum. I found myself trying to get sneaky glimpses of her getting dressed, or in the bathroom, and once, I saw her kiss Lindi on the cheek as she was leaving. The sight of the two of them together sent a jolt straight to my clit. Oh God, I needed another wank...

My lesbian libido wouldn't stay quiet though, and I found myself fantasising about fucking Lindi, and even my own mum, more than once. Very often in these fantasies, I was very domme and they were very sub. It was a recurring theme; queening older women. Not normal, I'm sure, but harmless enough if I kept it purely in the realm of fantasy, which I did.

After college, I went on to university to do a BA in music, and it was just my luck that I had a lecturer on the course who was a real sexpot. Mrs Knight, who insisted we call her Kate, was very busty, and always wore tops that looked like they were about to burst at the seams or the buttons pop off at any moment. She was quite obviously very proud of her tits, and it wasn't just the boys that got hot under the collar over them. I remember she was helping me with something one day, leaning over my laptop and pointing at the screen. Those big breasts were inches from my face, crowding me, and I could feel the warmth of her body and smell her womanly scent. I had to excuse myself and rush to the toilets to get myself off, I was so frigging horny!

My libido was raging, and my fantasies about older women were achingly intense. I needed to do something! I thought about trying to seduce Kate. She might have latent lezzy desires and I was an attractive and sexy young woman. It was worth a try. I also considered coming on more strongly to Lindi, but then I realised that starting an affair with my dad's keyboardist was probably a bad idea. Think of the trouble that could cause.

In fact, a real, serious relationship with a woman 20 years older was unlikely to work, for many reasons. I realised it was just a fantasy, and I tried to shelve it. It was persistent though, and wouldn't go away. I started trawling the web for any advice or case studies I could find, and that's where I stumbled upon Olivia.

Her advert said she was a 'lesbian hostess, madam, prostitute, or whatever word you prefer,' and she was advertising her services. She described herself as an 'almost 6ft tall brunette, 39 years old, very busty (40FF), curvy, sexy, and just waiting to make your Sapphic dreams come true.'

My mouth went dry. She was my perfect fantasy, and I realised with a jolt that I actually could make my Sapphic dreams come true simply by paying her by the hour. She was in west London too, so just an easy drive away. I decided to send her an email:

'Hi Olivia,

My name is Vix, I'm an 18-year-old lesbian and I was very interested in your advert on the net. I'm attractive, sexy, not bad looking, and very horny... and you are probably asking why I'm interested in paying for lesbian sex, when I'm a nubile, single young woman. Well, I'll explain. I have only had one sexual experience with a boy, and I didn't much like it. In fact, I haven't much interest in boys, but I have found myself getting excited over women, specially older women...'

I went on to explain, very candidly, about my fantasies, Mrs Knight, my crush on Lindi, and even being aroused by my own mother.

'...I realised after a while that sex with an older woman was an enduring fantasy for me but I knew that it was never going to happen... and also that an actual relationship with a woman 20 years older was probably a bad idea. Then I hit on the idea of looking for a lesbian escort, just to explore the fantasy, and that's how I found you. I'm not sure whether you have rules on the age of people you accept, but if 18 (nearly 19 ) is acceptable, I'd like to explore my fantasies with you.'

Her reply was rapid, and I nearly fell off my chair when it pinged in:

'No problem, when do you want to come (cum)?' With a smiley face. My clit almost jumped out of my knickers as I typed back.

'OMG - ASAP'

We made an appointment for two days later, then I threw myself on my bed and had THE most delicious wank. The fantasy was going to come true!

She lived in a big double-fronted terraced house just inside the M25 on the edge of Greater London, and I drove over there one Saturday morning, feeling a buzzy thrum of excitement. A sexual fizz. I rang the bell and she appeared at the door, like a vision straight from my dreams. She was tall, and very busty, with long black hair and curvy hips. She was like the women my imagination always conjures up whenever I hear my dad's song "Amazons".

'Hi, Vix, nice to meet you, come in.'

I stepped through the door, swallowing hard and trying to maintain a smile, rather than a look of pure wonder.

'Go through. First door on the right.'

She followed me, into what was a purpose made room with a bed, a sofa, chaise longue, and a couple of other chairs and stools. There were two large flat screen TVs on one wall, two cameras on tripods, some lamps, and various rugs on the tiled floor. It was a room made for sex and for making pornographic videos. My head was swimming with a mixture of fear, wonder, elation and pure lust.

I hadn't noticed at first, but she was dressed the way I'd described Mrs Knight to her, with a hip-hugging skirt and a top that was struggling to contain her huge boobs. Her nipple bumps were clearly visible -- she obviously wasn't wearing a bra - she was playing up to my fantasy!

"OK Vix, I'm going to be Mrs Knight. Do you want to keep your clothes on, or..?' I didn't need any invitation. I immediately started undressing and soon I was naked and standing fully exposed to her gaze. I found that very exciting. I'd love to do that in front of Lindi.

She put on a pair of glasses, to be more in character but, in truth, she looked like Kate Knight would have DREAMED of looking. I found myself trembling uncontrollably.

Olivia stood, hands on hips, watching me strip and said 'Mm, what a lovely young body. You're making me wet just looking at you, Vix.'

Fucking hell, I thought, you think YOU'RE wet! I trailed a finger between my slick, slippery labia and then sucked it, keeping eye contact with her all the time. I felt so amazingly horny. I was fantastically brazen and libertine.

'Oo, you're a sexy piece, aren't you?' she said, raising her eyebrows, and she stepped closer and took me by my shoulders, pushing me back until I had to sit down on the bed. Then she leaned forward, crowding me with those magnificent tits.

'This what you like, Vix? A pair of big tits in your face?' I whimpered like a puppy. I thought I might faint. I don't know how I controlled myself.

She undid a button with a ping, then another, and another. I was mesmerised, as her boobs were gradually released from her straining shirt. But she didn't unbutton it all the way. No. She slipped one hand inside and scooped one of them up and out, while simultaneously taking me by the back of my head and pulling be gently into her pillowing flesh.

'Suck my nipple,' she whispered and I needed no telling. I suckled that thing like a starving baby, and it was sheer heaven. The warm softness of it and the feeling of being pulled against it insistently. Her tits were marvellous and she knee how to use them to drive me wild with desire. As I suckled, she massaged the other against the side of my face.

I fingered my clit as I gorged on her big boobs, living out a wet dream I'd often had about my lecturer, but this was even better. This was real, and Olivia was just fantastic. She put imaginary sex with Kate firmly in the shade. She was in charge, and obviously had a plan for what she was going to do with me. She had guessed that I would want that, and she was absolutely right. She's a real pro.

She imposed herself on me even more, pushing me back so I had to lie back on the bed. Grabbing a pillow, she said 'Put this under your head,' then she crawled up over me. She had nothing on under her skirt and she simply hitched it up around her waist as she straddled me. This was it. I was about to eat pussy for the first time in my life. God I was so excited I'd have wet my pants if I had any on.

I had no experience of this, and she had to take hold of my arms and tuck them between her legs to get them out of the way, then she brought her hairy and very fleshy pussy up to my face. So incredibly thrilling. She was moist and hot -- almost steamy -- and it exceeded all my dreams. I loved her taste and her smell, and the feeling of being trapped under her, between those full thighs.

I knew very little about cunnilingus, so I just tried to do what I imagined I would like done to me, and she seemed to approve. 'Mm mmm,' she murmured squirming on my face. 'This your first time? Mmm, girl, you're a natural...' I sucked on her clit. '...fuck, yeah. Keep doing that.'

Her pussy was sublime. So much more fleshy than mine, with thick meaty labia that squished and slithered over my nose and mouth, and a clit that was rude and firm against my tongue. I loved it so much, and my lust and passion obviously overcame my inexperience because I was soon rewarded by a series of grunts and hip-jerks as her orgasm approached. Then she came, shuddering and trickling a gorgeous dibble of her tasty woman cum into my mouth. Ambrosia!

She had more planned for me though. She turned around and sat down again with her fleshy wet bum cheeks squishing down on my forehead, then she fell forward into a 69, bringing her slippery lips down on my mouth again. My hands had been busy with my pussy for a while now, but she moved them firmly out of the way, spreading me with her fingers so she could look at my inner treasure. 'Grief Vix, you're so WET.' Yes, she would find out just how wet I can get.

We were very dissimilar heights, but she curled her head down to reach me and we ate each other deliciously until I came, twice, squirting both times and she laughed almost hysterically in disbelief. 'Wow, you are a PROPER squirter, aren't you?'

The session was over all too quickly, and I drove home flooded with a euphoric post-orgasmic high. She was beyond my wildest dreams and I could think of little else for the next 24 hours. The very next day, I phoned her and booked another appointment. It was a week away and OMG I got myself off so many times that week. I couldn't wait.

For the next session, she tried to be Lindi. It was very exciting, and I had a wild series of orgasms, but she really didn't need to try to emulate the objects of my fantasies. She had already more than overshadowed them. Olivia as Olivia was more than enough to take my arousal through the roof, and I told her so.

Thanks to my visits to her, my love-skills -- and my lust for sex -- skyrocketed. I became a lesbian sex addict. Nothing could quell my libido. I went to her weekly for three months before a deeper contentment engulfed me and my overpowering lust monster calmed a little. I still visited her regularly though and for about 18 months I was so fulfilled that I didn't even look for an actual girlfriend. A little later, I entered a phase where I didn't get myself off EVERY single day, and I put it down to old age, now that I was almost 21.

While this carnal journey was progressing, I was keeping up my musical studies, and also trying to put together a band - and I wanted it to be an all-girl band. I ran the idea past my dad and he loved it, and promised to sound out his contacts for young females who might be interested. I also advertised on NME.com, and on NMEs Facebook page. Little did I know how much things were about to change. In fact, I didn't realise that my next session with Olivia was to be my last.

At this point, I was deliberately resisting my urge to masturbate for a couple of days before going to Olivia, to make the sessions even more intense, and the last one was certainly that.

It was a rainy Monday, not exactly delightful, but I was full of the joys as I bounced into her hallway, filled with a lustful anticipation.

She greeted my exuberance with an indulgent smile. 'You seem happy' she said.

'I am. Why wouldn't I be? I'm about to have sex with a Goddess.' I grinned.

'That's a lovely thing to say, sweetie, I'll try to live up to it'.

'Oh, you already have, Olivia, trust me. You know I wank off thinking about you, don't you?' She seemed nonplussed, so I quickly said 'Don't worry, I'm not falling in love or anythin', but you are just so fuckin' sexy!'

She looked at me fruitily and said 'Well, do you want to talk about sex or actually do it? Come on,' and she led me into the sex room.

During the almost two years I was going to Olivia, my sexual confidence had grown hugely and I was much more assertive than before. I rapidly stripped naked while smiling invitingly at her. Whenever we had sex I was naked, not because I don't like sexy undies or lingerie or anything, but I just hadn't yet started playing around with such things.

Olivia though, she had a vast array of lingerie, and she looked fantastic whatever she wore. I always liked classy underwear on her though, rather than anything too pornstar-ish. On this occasion, she took off her dressing-gown to reveal a beautiful white bra and briefs, and a pair of flesh-coloured nylon stockings with an understated white suspender belt. It was exactly like a set I'd seen my mum wear.

'Wow, that's so sexy Olivia. I once saw my mum in the bathroom, getting ready to go into town and she was wearing a similar set. She had the door open -- didn't feel the need to hide her undies from me - and I just thought she looked so fucking hot! I told her so, and she just laughed and flung the door shut. I got turned on from seeing my mum in her undies. Weird or what?' She didn't answer that, and instead just smiled and said, 'So, what can I do for you today my dear?'

I didn't answer, but stepped forward, put my arms around her, pulling her close as if we were lovers and murmuring my appreciation of being close to her. She's way taller than me, so my chin wasn't much above the height of her cleavage, and I always loved the feeling of being "crowded" by those impressive breasts.

It's funny but, even though she'd tried to bring a suggestion of Kate, and Lindi into our sex, the person she reminded me of the most was my mum. She's taller and even bustier than Mum, but it was something about the way she was with me. When we weren't actually engaged in red-hot sex, there was definitely something quite maternal about her.