Z is for Zoe

'Mmm,' I sighed as I almost withdrew and then slowly drove myself firmly, but less roughly, back up her cunt. This time she responded straightaway and we began to work out together, like two parts of a machine whose piston rods alternately drove against each other.

Suddenly Zoë caught her breath and I felt her grab me more tightly and moan: 'Oh, Jon, oh nooo, I'm com…' the word turned to a scream as she came, a blinding orgasm shook her and its suddenness made me unable to stop my own orgasm as I came, pouring my semen into her.

We lay there panting and just enjoyed an intimacy she had never had before and which I had not enjoyed for a very long time.

'Was that all right?' she asked nervously as if she was not actually asking me but speaking into space, afraid of the answer.

'It was wonderful,' I assured her.

'But I didn't know how to please you or even how to do it the way you want,' she said, now on the verge of tears.

'Then I will show you and I promise you it will be wonderful for me to teach you and to watch and feel you learn. Don't worry, Zoë: today has been the most wonderful day I have had since...'

I stopped, embarrassed.

'It's all right, I know,' she said. 'I don't expect or want you not to talk about her. If I've just given you the best time in three years then I'll settle for that.'

She sat up and put her vest on and then her shorts.

'Maybe I can improve on it next time.' She grinned that gamine, mischievous smile, stood up and turned to walk to the house. She stopped after several paces and turned to me.

'Jon?'

I turned to her and watched as she thrust her hand into her shorts and clearly fingered herself slowly.

I just stared.

'I love you,' she said. She scampered off before I could reply. I didn't know whether she was going home or what.

ooo000ooo

About twenty minutes later Zoë reappeared. Her hair had been combed and she was wearing a different set of clothes. I stared in surprise. She explained:

'I brought a change of clothes in the pannier on the bike. I hoped I might need them', she smiled with a gentle giggle.

'I'm glad you did then,' I replied looking at the vision before me.

Zoë was wearing a minuscule bikini top and a tiny, no minute, lemon flared skirt.

'You look wonderful,' I ventured.

'Mum said it's a "fuck skirt". She said there were only two situations in which I should consider wearing it.'

'Go on.'

'Well, one was to wear it for my lover, to please him and make him want me.' She blushed slightly and then grinned at me. 'And the other was to wear it just for you, Jon, if all else failed.' She paused.

'If all else failed?''

'Yes, but it's all right, all else didn't fail so I can wear it for my lover and hope it works.'

'I like,' I confirmed. 'Where on earth did you get it?'

At 'Zany's'. But then mum shortened it a bit. She doesn't think I should wear it apart from alone with you.'

I may have shocked her or just alerted her sex drive but I replied; 'I'd like you to wear it with me when at your house, in front of your parents.'

'Good. I'd like that, too,' she said.

Sometimes her directness surprised and thrilled me. Memories of the bikini, perhaps. I grabbed her and kissed her. She didn't yet fully understand the sexual potential inside her but I sensed it was capable of surprising me.

'Come in the house, Jon, please,' she asked.

I followed her up the garden path to the house. Once inside she turned to me, put her hands round my neck but didn't move in close to me. Our eyes met and she smiled.

'I'd like to do it again, upstairs, on the bed. I want to please you, Jon: I want you to show me how.'

We went upstairs without further words and Zoë began to undress me and I her. When I was nude, and Zoë's eyes kept glancing at my excited cock, I flopped back onto my double bed and lay there on my back. She stood a moment staring.

Then she moved to climb onto the bed, straddling me and immediately positioning herself so that her cunt was hovering above my erect penis. She shifted slightly so that my cock brushed against her labia as she rocked back and forth.

'Yes?' she asked.

I nodded and then, very slowly, cautiously as if she was unsure how she might feel, she pushed herself down onto me. She paused.

'You are fabulous, you feel wonderful,' I reassured her. She pushed herself fully onto me and I too pushed up towards her. I was holding her breasts and pulling her nipples and she was moaning with pleasure, as she fell forward, her arms either side of my head. I grabbed her and held her to me, at the same time rolling her over so that I was on top of her. I felt myself starting to slip from her and drove my hips towards her, re-anchoring myself. I was out of control by now, I was so turned on by her beautiful young body. She began to scream that she was coming. I fucked her really fast now and felt her responding superbly. We were both a little more confident with each other now and I felt that Zoë knew she was pleasing me and was able to enjoy the moment for herself, as she shuddered with the onset of a lingering orgasm. My semen burst from me, flooding her cunt [in my mind at least it was a flood] as the wonder of my own orgasm coursed through me. We lay a while in the afterglow, just holding, touching. Zoë kept saying 'Jon,' as she pressed herself to me and my fingers roamed soothingly over her breasts.

And so we had become lovers, as if something inevitable had at last happened and neither of us was surprised by our love. From then on Zoë slept at my house a couple of times a week and I slept at Annie and Pat's at the weekend. On those occasions Zoë slept in my room and we were quite open about it. It was neither a secret nor a topic for conversation.

In fact nobody said a word; no one said a thing.

ooo000ooo

I have a cousin, Katharine, with whom I spent a lot of time as a child, you know, joint holidays, playing in the paddling pool; having baths together. Katharine, always Katharine and never shortened, had kept in touch as we grew up and led separate lives and it was she, funnily enough, who had said those initially cruel words to me that 'I was young enough to start again.'

Eventually I rang her and told her about Zoë. Katharine is a fashion photographer – nothing grand, not an international jet setter but she works out of Bradford doing work mainly for home sales catalogue companies. She does other work too but her income comes from the bread and butter catalogue work. She's married to Lionel, a wool broker, who seems to never be at home. They have no children but they seem to have an understanding that works for them. Anyway she wanted us to come and stay for a weekend, so a few weeks after we spoke on the phone we drove up to Bradford one Friday, planning to stay until early Sunday afternoon. Apparently Lionel would be there on Friday evening but had to fly to Glasgow on Saturday morning and would remain there until the following Tuesday.

Zoë was eager to please and had dressed smartly. I noticed she was wearing the ring I had bought her for her birthday.

'You didn't tell me you were bringing me a model!' Katharine exclaimed as she opened the door to greet us.

'I'm not a model,' Zoë stammered in embarrassment.

'But you could be. I must show you my studio tomorrow. Come on inside, though. Lionel!' she screamed. 'They're here!'

Lionel appeared: he was charming: we had a lovely meal that evening and we talked, largely about the childhood years Katharine and I had shared and to Zoë about her early years and current plans. We toured the house. I was conscious of the pictures in all the rooms – some were paintings; some were photographs, including some nudes taken in the outdoors or on a beach. They were not sexual in any way but they held a hidden eroticism for me and Katharine caught Zoë staring at one of a girl lying on wet sand as the first waves of a rising tide washed around her.

'Has Jonathan taken pictures of you like that, then, Zoë?' Katharine asked.

Embarrassed again Zoë replied: 'No, of course not,' blushing intensely.

The two of them walked on ahead of me but I clearly heard Katharine say 'Then you should get him to. You would look lovely I'm sure and you might enjoy it.' I suspect I was meant to hear but I feigned deafness. Katharine put an arm round Zoë's waist as they entered the next room. This was Lionel's den and was filled with model soldiers and dioramas of famous battles. It held little interest for me or for the two women and we didn't linger but I noticed that it was Zoë's arm that was round Katharine's waist now.

We went to bed quite early as we were both tired. We made love in the morning as the sunshine poured through our French windows. After we had fucked lazily I ate her out, pleasuring her wildly as my tongue found her clit, sucking in my own cum mixed with her sweetness. She kept begging me to stop as she wanted to scream but digging her fingernails into my shoulders she held off until a second orgasm ripped through her. She let go. I had noticed that she had become more and more vocal as we enjoyed sex and I liked to hear this expression of her pleasures.

I expect Katharine had heard something as shortly afterwards she arrived bearing mugs of tea, knocking gently on the door. Zoë was now lying with the duvet modestly pulled up to her shoulders. I was sitting up in bed. We were both naked and had never slept together any other way. Katharine was wearing men's pyjamas but the bottom button of the jacket seemed to be the only one that was fastened and as she leaned forwards her breasts were virtually fully visible. After a minute or two of accustoming herself to things, Zoë sat up, totally naturally I felt, unembarrassed in front of Katharine by her nudity. We chatted until Katharine left 'for a shower.'

After breakfast we drove down to the studio. I don't know why but I had imagined a small studio attached to the house but this was a business on a substantial footing with a very large main studio hall divided into various sections for different types of photo shoot. Reception was deserted but the extent of the place made it clear Katharine was running a successful business. In the stockroom, where deliveries of catalogue clothes were sorted and annotated, Katharine showed us some of the current stock waiting to be photographed.

Mainly there were summer dresses, blouses, shorts and swimwear.

'You'd look well in most of these, Zoë. Do you want to try a few on?'

Zoë took from her a blouse and skirt. 'I'm not wearing a bra,' she said appealing to Katharine for guidance.

'I think you'll be fine but we'll have to find some shoes with a nice heel to lift you a little. We can do that after you've got them on.'

Zoë disappeared into the changing rooms but reappeared quickly. She looked really nice but seemed sexier, her back seemed straighter, her shoulders more thrown back after Katharine had found some high heeled shoes and had pulled her shoulders back and shown her how to stand. The camera clicked away and Zoë seemed relaxed as she posed and disappeared to change into another outfit, often one very similar to the previous one.

After maybe the fifth change Zoë said: 'This is silly.' She stripped off the clothes she had just modelled and, naked apart from a pair of lacy pink panties, she seemed uninhibited as she put on the next set. This continued for a while until Katharine said:

'Would you like to try something different?'

'Yes. What?' asked Zoë.

'Swimwear. Does that appeal? You've clearly got the tan for it.'

I realised, as I expect both Katharine and Zoë did, before me probably, that Zoë would need to be naked apart from the costumes. However Zoë didn't seem to mind and comfortably stood naked as she changed from bikini to bikini. She looked radiant and she certainly turned me on.

I noticed that Katharine's blouse was largely undone, maybe just because of the warmth from the studio lights but I suspected that we were all rather turned on by the entire session.

We took a break and cooled ourselves with iced bottled water. Zoë checked her hair. Katharine went over to her and whispered something. I saw her nod in reply.

'One last short session and then I'll take you out for lunch,' said Katharine.

We moved to a different part of the studio where everything was almost pure white: the floor, the walls and various three-dimensional objects that were covered in dazzling white cotton and which, clearly, a model could sit, lie or even stand on.

Zoë took off the robe Katharine had given her during the break and was obviously ready to pose nude for Katharine. She allowed Katharine to position her sitting on one of the shapes. Legs crossed, arms loosely folded and her head thrown back, her dark brown hair hanging behind her. She had let it grow longer in the last few months. The pose was beautiful – not vulgar at all – although I sensed nervousness in her, not because she was uncomfortable, I think, but perhaps she was less confident about how ravishingly sensuous she looked than we who were watching her.

Katharine took her picture from many different angles and then asked her to just lie back and relax. Katharine bent one of Zoë's legs up at the knee and got her to angle the other just slightly to one side. One hand was behind her head and the other drooped over the side of the 'table' on which Zoë was now fully exposed. She seemed fully relaxed too as Katharine positioned her and then proceeded to take her photograph again from many different angles, producing I realised a series of very different pictures.

Finally, for Katharine only posed her three times, Zoë posed in this bleached world standing but leaning also over the same table shape, elbows on the table, bottom sticking out, legs slightly apart, looking as if she was reading the magazine that was the only prop used during the session. Katharine touched her as she moved Zoë's legs apart and pulled her bottom out a little. Katharine photographed her again from every conceivable angle and this time some of the pictures would clearly be overtly sexual as she photographed her cunt from below and her anus too. Later Zoë told me she had become very aroused during the final pose and had desperately wanted to be touched intimately or to be fucked.

'I would have done if you'd asked,' I told her. But I was probably lying and wouldn't have dared.

ooo000ooo

We went for lunch to a pleasant pub not some chic nouvelle cuisine restaurant as I had half expected and then, to our joint surprise, I think, Katharine proposed a bike ride.

'We've got enough bikes for when we have guests and there's a good round-trip ride following some of Bradford's old railway lines. That will tire us out for the day,' Katharine said.

'You want to tire us out?' asked Zoë.

'Well, just enough to relax us this evening, so we can have a nice time together,' Katharine replied.

We enjoyed the ride and when we got back we did feel good – better I'm sure than if we had just sat around all afternoon.

Unusually, but I was pleased at the same time, Zoë took the lead and said: 'We're off for a shower Katharine.'

As she said this she held her hand out towards her, in a clear but unspoken gesture of invitation. Katharine smiled and stepped forward, taking her hand. Zoë had chosen to go another step in the tantalising dance in which the three of us were erotic participants. And we showered together, all three of us. There was no sex per se but there was contact between each of us we washed each other quite intimately and Katharine and Zoë explored each other just as they explored me and I them. But it was all with the hands – and very exciting too.

Katharine went off to her room to dress, after kissing us both, and we dressed 'slovenly' as Katharine had instructed. It was to be a light salad type meal with whisky and white wine. I sensed more excitement to come.

ooo000ooo

'Slovenly' basically amounted to t-shirts and jeans. We were all barefoot as we helped in the kitchen to throw together the salad. I opened a bottle of white wine from the fridge and we carried our plates and the bottle of wine through to the lounge. For the time being we put our plates on a small semi-circular table that was up against one wall whilst Katharine poured each of us an over-large whiskey. I scooped ice into mine from a stainless steel ice bucket that Katharine must have brought in a few minutes earlier. Zoë and I sat on the floor leaning back against the sofa. Katharine came over and squeezed between us both. We sipped at our drinks for a while and reviewed the day. Zoë had lots to say about the photo-shoot and seemed retrospectively to now be more confident about her body as Katharine told her how her body 'loved the lens'.

Katharine asked her if she would like to do it again. Zoë looked at me as if she were seeking my approval.

'Hey there, I'm not your keeper, you know!' I said. I didn't want that kind of relationship.

'But I need to know if you disapprove,' Zoë countered. 'Please, Jon.'

'Ok, I don't disapprove, all right?'

'Yes. Thanks.'

After a minute Zoë came back at me again. 'Saying you don't disapprove isn't the same as saying you approve, though, is it?'

'No,' I said. 'But if you promise to tell me absolutely everything that happened and how you felt at the time the night you get back home and we're lying in bed together, then I'll approve. Ok?'

'Fine.'

I think Katharine thought it was a good time to change the topic of conversation. 'You smell nice tonight,' she said, turning to Zoë. 'What's that perfume called, Zoë?'

'Shalimar. By Guerlain,' Zoë replied.

As she spoke Katharine's face was close to Zoë's. Katharine moved her face in closer and kissed Zoë on the lips. Zoë responded and they kissed lingeringly, their tongues exploring. When Katharine moved away Zoë seemed slightly red-faced and clearly excited, her breathing staccato as her chest heaved a little. Katharine turned to me and kissed me, half turning to me and kissing me now in an overtly sexual way.

Katharine pulled away after a moment and there was a silence that was highly charged as if we all wondered where this was leading and yet

I think the two women knew what they wanted; I was less sure.

Katharine's proposal 'Let's eat' in itself had clear sexual overtones but we ate our meal, cleared away and were heading back to the lounge when Katharine asked quite matter-of-factly I felt: 'Shall we head on upstairs?'

I knew this actually was a proposal for the three of us to go to bed together; we all knew that. I knew too that for Zoë all this was new but I had seen enough today to know she was confident in herself about her broadening sexuality.

'I think I'm ready,' said Zoë, placing a hand on Katharine's shoulder.

ooo000ooo

By the soft light of just one bedside lamp we were soon undressed and lying on Katharine's double bed. She pulled the white cotton sheet over us initially. There was a brief hiatus as if we were each of us waiting for someone to make the first move. Zoë was in the middle and I turned to her, placing my arm under her head and kissed her deeply. She pushed the cotton sheet down away from her as I moved my other hand to cup her breast. Her nipples were erect and I knew she was comfortable with what was happening.

I continued to fondle her breast as she turned her head towards Katharine and now she moved her face in towards Zoë and they kissed passionately. Katharine's hand moved to Zoë's other breast. She moaned with pleasure as I moved my hand down over her stomach and pushed two fingers into her cunt.