Winning Ways

We had planned the next part to the second.

"Oh," she said, that one word expressing so much, "I've forgotten to touch-up my make-up."

"Hold this for me," she instructed to Nirvana, not waiting for a reply but thrusting her small case into my fiancé's hands; leaving Nirvana open-mouthed as she then proceeded to get out her little handbag mirror and some eye-liner. Then she started her banter as we continued to wait for the typically slow lift to arrive. What was it with this airport that it has so many passengers but can't even get them out of the car parks quickly?

"Isn't it awful when you haven't got your face made up properly?" she asked Nirvana then continued without waiting for the answer, "I hate being naked on my face. The rest of me can be totally nude but if my face is not properly dressed then I'm hopeless. Aren't you?"

Again, she gave no space for a reply.

"I'm heading for the States. I've booked myself in for some new therapy that I saw on the Internet. Being 50 this year I decided that I was going to live a little and being single would take time off to go 'find myself' as the hippies used to say. What about you?"

She waited this time, continuing as she did to complete the touching up of what were in reality already perfectly made-up eyes. These were eyes of steely grey that could pierce armour when she chose and that was exactly what she was doing. No one, man or woman, could resist answering her honestly. I'd seen it in my office when someone tried to pull a fast one and get to me without an appointment. It was a pleasure to watch them wilt as I listened and watched on the CCTV.

"I-I-I'm going for therapy too, to a place in States. It's a bit unusual..."

"Yes, they all are over there but this one is special," interrupted Mavis, not wishing to spoil an opportunity to build the relationship more. "So are you on flight 4307?"

Nirvana looked at me. I nodded.

"Oh terrific. And are you coming too Sir?"

"Oh no!" Nirvana said, almost conspiratorially, as if this was a trip only women could take. "I have been tasked to go alone."

"Tasked? Interesting choice of words. Do you really want to go or is it out of duty?"

Now Mavis was getting personal and direct, just as planned. I was pleased with the reply.

"No, I want to go. I realise there are some skeletons in my cupboard I need to rid myself of. My darling Paul here has er, facilitated this opportunity."

"Well, so there is a man somewhere in the world who cares. You are a lucky woman."

"Yes, yes I am," she said, squeezing my arm in a genuine gesture of affection.

"Ah, the lift at last," she said, putting her cosmetics and mirror away but making no move to take the bag back from Nirvana. "Come on then."

She walked into the lift ahead of us, head up and with her back so straight that I was convinced she wore a corset under that blouse. Nirvana followed carrying her bag so obediently. I appraised both of them from behind. Both had butts to die for, both had long, long legs, but Mavis was taller even though both were over normal female height. The blonde Mavis contrasted with the dark, rich tones of my beautiful fiancé. Neither were spring chickens but both looked way younger than their years and had a rich sexuality about them; Mavis was conscious of her dominance and power, Nirvana was the submissive with an emerging sense of her latent sexuality. The confluence of these two sexual beings promised more than I had ever hoped, I was sure of that.

As we reached the check-in desks so Nirvana was in deep conversation with my PA, with both of them seeming to ignore me. It was as planned. Everything was so perfect. It was only when the desk asked to see her baggage that Nirvana seemed to realise she had been carrying the case. Her look was one of puzzlement, but then a smile as she raised it for the ticket agent to see it and then kept it for her new friend. She even placed the label on when passed it by Mavis. When it came to her turn she shyly presented her own tiny bag, much to the puzzlement of the desk clerk.

"I'm meeting a friend out there who is buying all my clothes. I aim to shop 'til I drop," she lied, smiling sweetly at the clerk and winking to add a little girl to girl conspiracy. She didn't want them to think she was some sort of drug runner or illegal.

"Come on now," ordered Mavis, "You need to be saying goodbye to your friend so we can get on the other side of customs and get shopping. You need some new make-up. That mascara is not your best shade honey, trust me."

I walked up to Nirvana, held her close, grabbing a handful of her arse cheeks in my hands and squeezed cruelly as I kissed her hard on the lips. I knew that the skirt would have risen and Mavis would, along probably with a lot of the people sitting in the seats adjacent to us, see a copious expanse of firm brown arse. What surprised me was the power and sensuality of the kiss that came back. She was exploring my mouth with her tongue and hanging on close to me with a level of affection I had only usually experienced in private. Then the ultimate...

"I love you and will change. Trust me. I know for all we have done in the past 24 hours that I still have inhibitions. I want to change. I want to give myself to you, totally and utterly. I'm struggling now between the pleasure I feel knowing others can see my arse and the shame. I'm wet and hungry for you, but something is there that holds me back at times from being who I want to be. All yours..." She whispered.

"Come on lover girl," Mavis said mockingly, interrupting our intimate moment. "We have a plane to catch. Well, some shops first."

She dragged Nirvana away, who blew me a kiss. I saw genuine love in her eyes. Amazing what a mix of love and finance can do. I smiled broadly at her. I felt such love between us, but that did not distract me from my mission. No, it made the cause a stronger one. I turned and walked away, not looking back. She was in Mavis's strong hands now. Now where was that number for Madame Honfleur's? I wanted to know how the Bitch was getting on. Besides I had a bet with myself that Cara would not take long to call.

______________________________

They had sailed through customs and headed straight for the cosmetics. It had taken no time for the lovely Indian assistant to appraise her 'cousin' and confirm Mavis's assessment that she needed a totally different range of products. However, it was when they went to pay that Nirvana realised that travelling light had also meant being totally dependent on me for money and she had none.

"Never mind," reassured Mavis. "I will pay. I'm sure you can find inventive ways to pay me back," she added with a wink.

Surprising even herself, Nirvana accepted without question. She seemed to be under this assertive woman's spell. When they headed to the toilets for Mavis to help her complete the transformation with her make-up, she accompanied her without question. But then a further realisation struck her.

"I've just realised. I have no money whatsoever, not even to get to the destination. I should feel dreadful but..."

She felt the caress of Mavis's hand slipping under her skirt and circling her right buttock, her other hand holding her low on her stomach. She should have resisted, but found she was glued to the spot. She felt the older woman's warm breath tickle her neck as she leaned in close to whisper...

"Don't worry honey, I will see you alright." She said soothingly, then kissed Nirvana lovingly on the neck and backed off as quickly as she had held her so close.

Nirvana could do nothing. She felt entranced by this woman. Even more so now that she had felt the firm, large breasts pressed hard against her back that she was convinced were encased in a stiff corset, and the contrasting soft kiss that had lingered on her neck. The hand caressing her arse had been almost incidental. This woman had an intense sexuality and power about her that she could neither ignore nor repel. In the past day or so her whole sense of self had been questioned and her sexuality was she realised opening up to things long suppressed plus new thoughts, new possibilities. 'Like mother, like daughter' she said to herself.

"Right, let's get going," Mavis ordered, again taking control. She loved this. It had been so long since she had been entrusted to school a submissive and she was convinced that was Nirvana's real self. I had indicated some signs of dominance, but everything else said she was a submissive at heart. There was just that element of prissiness still underpinning her behaviour, her discomfort with bodily fluids (such as when she wanted to wipe off Imogen's juice and the times we had fucked when she was unhappy if I had her cunt juice on my face), and the question of whether she really could have a girl-on-girl. Could she go past the kiss like her daughter had done? Interestingly, she had not been horrified at seeing her daughter with female cum on her face, so why not for herself? In fact, reflecting on it, Mavis had noted that she had not really been that horrified at her daughter's lesbian experimentation. My PA and I had concluded in our phone call (a call which had set her role in the 'corruption' of Nirvana and her daughter) that the mother needed a guide, a confidant who could help her with the unblocking. That is how the final plan had fallen into place and Mavis had moved from just escorting her to becoming a main player.

Nirvana stepped into line, following Mavis and hanging on her every word. My PA worked with stealth; asking about her family and what it had been like coming to England from their island home. She learned about Nirvana's extended Asian family that had spread all over the globe. She was the only one to stop at only one child. Her many sisters and brothers had large families. She said her sister, Suella (a corruption of an Indian name and an American soap character) was an exception and had become the 'black sheep' (her words not mine readers) of the family because she refused to marry and lived with her lover and his sister. This was a scandal in the family and yet Nirvana admitted to being closer to her and their 'commune' as she called it than her other siblings. However, they always chastised her for visiting. The rest had disowned Suella, which saddened Nirvana. So much so that Mavis carefully dabbed the tears from her companion's face and kissed her gently on the forehead, offering genuine words of sympathy.

"So when did you first have sex?" Mavis asked in her typically direct style.

"When I was 18, like my daughter. It was with..." she said, suddenly tailing off and going silent. She had said too much.

"Come on, tell me all," Mavis said, half with an order, half coaxing her to speak, as they sat in the coffee bar opposite each other. It was as if no one else was around they had become so intimate, almost conspiratorial.

"It was with a..." Nirvana seemed to hold her breath, then out it came. "It was with another girl. I was at College and she had been taking care of me when I was ill. I'd broken a fever and was very weak. She...Indira...offered to give me a bed bath. I let her, not realising how sensual it was to feel her hands run cool water over my body. She was in a shalwar kameez top and no bottoms; just panties and I could see her breasts through the thin silk. She was aroused and so was I..." she stopped, her eyes looking into some space that suggested she was reliving the experience..."Then she ran her hands over my naked breasts. I felt so hungry for her that I pulled her down to me. I only meant to kiss her and thank her for looking after me but she misunderstood and kissed me deeply, tongue delving in my mouth. I was shocked and yet so aroused. I..." she looked down into her lap and realised she had been rubbing her hand between her legs, subtly but noticed by Mavis and a pretty young woman to her new friend's right who had been listening in to the conversation and was also looking aroused. She continued. "It was not long before her top and panties were off and we were making love. I had her juice all over my face and loved her flavour. But we were caught. I was just ending our session by licking my 'woman's cum' from her face when the dorm cleaner barged in. She screamed and attacked us both with her filthy toilet broom. I never saw Indira again as they called our parents and she was expelled. I was allowed to stay because my parents argued I was delirious with my illness. Yes, I was delirious, but not with illness. It was fantastic but that attack by the Dallitt really screwed me up. My parents paid the poor cleaner off with enough money to buy her a property, unheard of for her caste, and shut her up forever. It was never mentioned again and I've been unable to tell anyone about it..."

"Well honey, you've told me now. I wonder what other skeletons lurk in your cupboard? I'll find out, I promise..." she said in a kindly way.

"Yes, I'm sure you will," Nirvana replied, realising that in the intimacy of the story telling she had taken Mavis's soft white hand in her own and even though they had finished, she had not let go. She was startled by her behaviour and tried to remove it, but Mavis held her firmly, her thumb lightly stroking Nirvana's palm. Instead of being frightened or shocked at this turn of events, she found herself looking into Mavis's steely eyes and smiling. She was realising how attractive this woman was, and what a fantastic listener, but the gesture with the thumb took her back to her courting days in India.

"So what are you smiling about my sexy companion?" Mavis asked, a picture of innocence.

"Oh, it's nothing...just that." and it happened again, she found herself compelled to tell her new friend. "In my home country and then in Mauritius where I spent most of my years until I was 21, if a partner stroked the palm of your hand with their thumb it was a secret way of saying 'I want to fuck you'."

She started to giggle; something Mavis reported later as 'so endearing' in the electronic journal I had instructed her to keep. She also wrote that 'Nirvana's eyes opened wide and her legs parted almost imperceptibly at my reply'.

"But I do, darling," Mavis said,"If you'll have an old broad like me."

The petite woman next to them nearly choked on her coffee, but there was no sign of disgust. Mavis noticed this, hoping she was flying with them too. Always the predator, she assessed the woman as about 35. Her skin was olive, high cheekbones, dark eyes and hair. The clothing was expensive, judging by the designer dress that was short and clung to every curve. Her breasts were not large but their nipples made obvious peaks under the soft pastel green fabric. Her legs though not long were well proportioned and hinted shape with strength. Her ankles were dainty and her feet, with their well-painted toes, were encased in dark green sandal-like high heels. Those shoes were incredibly high and she was sure that when the woman stood her hips would be jutting forward, giving elegance to her walk.

She found herself momentarily distracted by this beautiful descendent of the Greeks or Turks, she was not sure. Whatever, when their eyes met there was an unspoken warmth between them. They smiled, but nothing was said.

Then Nirvana brought her back to her senses.

"The monitor is indicating we need to go to our gate."

They all stood. Mavis burst out laughing.

"Are you on Flight 4307 too?"

"Why yes, I am," replied the petite woman in a soft and sexy voice that again hinted Mediterranean. She picked up her Chanel handbag, the intertwined C's every bit the advert of her wealth, and walked out ahead of them. Mavis was taken by the incredibly erotic sway of her hips and the 'come on' look she gave as she glanced over her shoulder to see if they were following her diminutive body. Mind you, one look at Nirvana suggested sheer lust by my future bride. The bottle was uncorked and the genie was flying. Well that readers was what Mavis wrote late that evening.

_______________________________

"I can't believe this is happening," Nirvana whispered over her shoulder to Mavis as they climbed to the upstairs bar in the first class. "It's like a...an adult fairytale!"

Mavis smiled up at her, completely distracted by the lovely sight of her companion's naked arse only a foot ahead of her face on the steep spiral. She noticed the puckered virgin hole above the shaven slit that was so brown on its lips but pink along its centre; a spot that opened and closed according to her position, first when bending to place things by her chair and now when climbing. It was so tempting to reach out and touch her, but she knew she still had to use stealth. Nirvana was carrying signs of promise but also the story she had told suggested some longstanding hang-ups might have come from that encounter. Was the hygiene obsession and the dislike of her own pussy juice on my face caused by being beaten with a stinky brush at the point of ecstacy?

Mavis was relieved to reach the bar and sit quickly on a stool, but regretted having worn such silky panties as her pussy was now damp and slightly uncomfortable it was so wet. My fiancé was arousing her intensely and often so innocently.

"I'm going to have to get out of these," she said with a sigh, and hitched her skirt to remove the offending black silk panties. She did it so quickly Nirvana had little time to comment let alone notice the distinctive liquid discharge that coated the gusset. However, she could not mistake the heavy smell of a woman's arousal filling the air. The panties were dropped into Mavis's handbag, which sat on the bar counter.

Mavis ordered a Bloody Mary for herself and a Daiquiri for Nirvana, not stopping to ask her what she wanted. No, she had decided to test her submissiveness. She smiled inwardly at the look of surprise on my fiancé's face and then the rapid acceptance and acquiescence followed by the fascination as she watched the two shots of rum, the lime squeeze and the sugar being mixed in front of her by their blonde and busty stewardess. She liked the wink by this bartender as she added a little extra rum to the mix. 'What was this minx up to?' Mavis thought to herself, 'But whatever it is, I like it.'

"I'm surprised there are only the three of us in First," said Nirvana, breaking the spell as Mavis continued to exchange silent but knowing signals with the stewardess. "Why is that...er Gemma?" she asked, peering closely at the label on her uniform. She noticed how it was positioned far to the edge of her uniform, close to the open swell of her obviously copious breasts. Here was a woman who struggled to stay in her blouse but was not fat, just buxom on a tall, slim frame. Any passenger could not help but be drawn to those enormous jugs. The strategic pin badge just added that extra pull of the eyes. 'Is she lesbian?' Nirvana asked herself, not shocked but curious and not a little aroused. "After all these years...the old feelings are there again," she said, suddenly realising it was aloud. She blushed, thankful that most white people would not notice, and giggled. Neither Gemma nor Mavis said anything, but there was another exchange of knowing facial gestures. Nirvana's hand shot between her legs, resting in the soft fabric and touching a clitoris that had awakened from its hood; hungry.

"Hi, you two!"

It was their Mediterranean companion. She looked stunning in a white silk kimono, tied loosely at the waist and displaying a good deal of her chest, the curve of her small breasts looking so alluring. It seemed only held together by those extended nipples that again strained against the material. Was she constantly aroused or did she just happen to have permanently long nipples? Mavis and Nirvana both wanted to know. Or so I found out later from their diaries.