Psychology 1 - Virginity 0 Ch. 02byadam applebiter©
[Author's note. This story is an immediate continuation of Part 1, which I urge you to read first if you expect any of this to make sense.]
A while later, the girls shared a shower. They washed themselves but, when it came to rinsing off, Elena took charge of the shower-head and played it over Patricia's body, washing the suds down until she reached her sister's crotch. Here, she inverted the nozzle so that it blasted tingling needles of hot water up against Patricia's vagina, prompting a shriek.
"Stand still." Elena chided, laughing at the squirming girl. "Haven't you ever masturbated with a shower before?"
"I-I" Patricia was having difficulty speaking with what the water was doing to her. She tried to stay still but it wasn't easy. "I've never... masturbated...at all."
"Never?" Shrieked Elena, disbelief all over her face.
"N-No. I touched... there, once or twice but I knew it was wrong. I had to do a lot of penance-"
"You confessed it?" Elena had had the same traditional catholic upbringing but had been rebellious even as a little girl. Patricia had always been 'the good one'.
"Yes...Oh...Oh!" Patricia's first shower assisted climax cut off any further responses.
Elena mercilessly kept the jet right on Patricia's clit, prolonging her orgasm as much as possible. She waited until her sister had stopped shaking and was merely trembling and breathing heavily. "Oh, my poor little sister." Elena pressed herself against Patricia, kissing her wetly. "See what you've been missing?"
Patricia nodded but looked less than happy. "But, the Bible says-"
"The Bible says men mustn't 'spill their seed wastefully'. It doesn't mention what women can get up to. Andrew told me that homosexuality was illegal here until a few years ago but that lesbianism never was because Queen Victoria didn't believe there was anything two women could do together that was immoral."
"No buts. Sex isn't sin. It's fun, it's the best way in the world to share love and it's changed you in so many wonderful ways but it's not sinful." Elena kissed Patricia again, noting the improved response and the hard nipples pressing into her own tits.
Patricia looked mollified.
"Now let's go to bed. Andrew 'll wonder why we're taking so long."
They got out, dried off and returned to the bedroom, both wrapped in bath towels. Andrew was fast asleep. Quietly, they slipped under the duvet to join him, Patricia getting to be in the middle. She eased herself as close as possible to him, feeling his now limp penis come to rest against her bottom. Carefully, she snuggled under his arm and held her own out beckoning Elena to do likewise.
* * * * *
Patricia awoke slowly. There was a warm, tingly feeling between her legs. She sighed with pleasure. As she became more aware, it dawned on her that there were fingers down there, responsible for the feeling. They weren't hers so it must be Andrew. She hummed and eased her legs a fraction apart.
"Shh. You'll wake the baby." Elena's voice.
Patricia's eyes sprang open, shocked. If Andrew was still asleep...
Elena was grinning at her with affection. It was Elena's hand between Patricia's legs: Elena's finger dipping into her slippery vagina. Patricia reacted by clamping her thighs tight, inadvertently trapping Elena's hand exactly where it was.
"Silly sister." Elena whispered. "Relax. You'll enjoy it more." Her free hand reached for Patricia's breast, tweaking first one nipple, then the other, into life. Slowly, Patricia relaxed, letting Elena move her fingers once more.
"Good girl." Elena leant close to whisper, nipping Patricia's earlobe gently while she was about it. "Touch me too."
Patricia made no response.
"Touch me Patricia. Touch me just like I'm touching you." Elena held her sister's gaze, willing her to obedience. Momentarily she felt tentative fingertips on her silken pubic mound. Feather light they traced down between her parted thighs, finding Elena's labia.
Silently, the girls caressed each other, one leading and one responding in kind. The heat of passion flared in two abdomens as slick fingers danced around the tiny clitoral buds, kindling fire. Faint sighs and whispered moans suffused the shrinking space between them until their lips met and their tongues entwined. Nipples grazed against nipples as the girls writhed in ever increasing urgency. Their joined mouths muffled and swallowed the noise of their shared climax.
"Wow. That was sexy." Andrew was awake. He grinned lecherously past Patricia's curls at Elena. "Sisters are doing for themselves, huh?"
"How long have you been awake?" Elena asked as he propped himself up on an elbow for a better vantage.
"About 5 minutes. It's hard to sleep with two wriggling girls sharing the bed."
"Oh, did we wake you? We did try to be quiet."
"S'ok. I wouldn't have missed that for a gold clock. Next time, wake me first so I can watch it all."
"Pervy!" Elena stuck out her tongue.
"That, from a girl who pimped her boyfriend to her sister then used it as an excuse to indulge in lesbian incest!" He fell back onto the pillow, laughing.
"Elena." Patricia's voice was small and calm. She waited until she had Elena's full attention. "I don't mind if he watches us." She blushed at her own admission. "Last night... in the shower... I pretended Andrew was there too... and..."
"What's this?" Andrew's curiosity was suddenly piqued.
"Elena showed me how to use the shower to... you know... it tingles." Even after all she'd done with him, she had difficulty saying some things.
"I taught her shower head masturbation." Elena clarified, as if he hadn't understood. It was probably a good thing to keep using the words to desensitise her coy sister. "Andrew Darling, did you know that..." She thought better of being indiscrete. "Never mind."
"You can tell him." Mumbled Patricia, her pink face buried in her sister's sparse bosom.
"Before you seduced my little sister, she'd never had an orgasm. No wonder she was so... uptight." Elena stroked Patricia's hair parentally and looked meaningfully at Andrew.
Patricia struggled free and turned over to face him. "And you rescued me from my ivory tower." She kissed him, taking the lead for the first time. "Thank you." Another deep kiss. "Thank you, my knight in shining armour."
"And fairy godmother." Observed Elena, throwing off the duvet to uncover them all. Andrew's cock sprang up, erect and proud and eager to join the party. "Is that the fairy godmother's magic wand or the knight errant's lance?"
"If there's any justice in the world, it's the subject of your fellatio 101 tutorial." Andrew wanted a blow job. More than that, he wanted a double header. He'd worked hard the last two days and he reckoned he was due some serious head.
Patricia's hand had somehow found its way to the base of his cock and she was looking at it thoughtfully as he negotiated with Elena. She understood what he wanted and... well... he had done it to her... and she'd loved it. Her anxiety, such as it was, centred on not knowing how and not wanting to disappoint him. She need not have worried. Elena proved to be an excellent instructor.
After a bit of squirming and shuffling to get Andrew in the middle of the bed with a sister on either side, Elena demonstrated basic blow-job technique, toying with his balls with one hand and stroking the base of his shaft with the other while her mouth engulfed the top half of his penis and her tongue massaged his glans as she bobbed up and down. After a few seconds, she encouraged Patricia to try.
"That's good. No. Don't try to get too much in your mouth. It'll make you gag and that's not sexy. Just work on what's comfortable and let your hands work on the rest."
"That feels great." Andrew sighed, enjoying the feel of a different mouth on his cock. Patricia was a quick learner.
"See Sis. It's easy. Now, vary your tongue movements to tease him more. Try reciting a nursery rhyme."
Patricia started to mumble.
"Not out loud!" Elena laughed. "Just mouth the words. A song. A poem. Anything that makes your tongue move. He likes Kylie Minogue songs best."
Patricia glanced sideways at her sister and raised her eyebrows.
"True." Elena nodded. "How does it feel now, Darling?" She asked Andrew.
"T'riffic." He moaned, close to orgasm.
Elena didn't want him coming yet. "That's enough Patricia. Stop a moment."
"I hadn't got to the chorus." Patricia said, lifting her head from Andrew's crotch.
"What chorus?" Elena asked, curious.
"Lord of the Dance." She looked shame faced. "It's the only English song I know." Once she'd said it, suddenly it didn't sound like such a good explanation.
Elena burst into a fit of giggles. "Sister mine! You're cured!" Then to Andrew, "Darling, my sweet, innocent little sister was singing a hymn with a mouthful of you. I think you can stop worrying about our little adventure reaching the ears of a priest anytime soon."
"Who was worried? Patricia, Darling, you don't have to do it in English. But it would be nice if you did it some more - in any language." There was pleading in his tone. He'd been so near.
"She made me stop." Patricia was still stroking the base of his cock.
"Because he was about to come in your mouth, Little Sister. Correct etiquette, according to men, is for you to swallow it. Some girls spit it out but that's as unsexy as gagging. Some pull back and let it go all over their faces. Men apparently like to see that but it's us who have to wash it out of our hair."
"Yuk!" Patricia made a face.
"Yuk!" Elena agreed with a nod. "Swallowing is tidier than being splashed and sexier than spitting it out."
"Is it hygienic to swallow a man's...seed." Patricia thought practical for a moment.
"Darling girl." Andrew said. "If you're worried about that, the guy's cock shouldn't be in your mouth to begin with."
"Or anywhere else." Elena observed. "Patricia. You take one side. I'll take the other and we'll see how fast we can make him squirt... And if you don't want to swallow it, I do." Elena pressed her mouth to the side of Andrew's cock, nibbling him gently and massaging him with her outstretched tongue.
Patricia followed her sister's lead, working up and down his full length. Andrew put his head back on the pillow and sighed. God! It felt good. As the first surge of his orgasm rose from his tensed hips, Elena pulled away and warned Patricia. Patricia didn't hesitate. She clamped her mouth over the end of his cock and lashedit with her tongue. Andrew growled as he came, squirting hot semen across Patricia's tongue and splashing the roof of her mouth with his second salvo. Patricia gulped and it was gone, except for the slightly brackish aftertaste. It hadn't tasted bad though. When the last dribble of semen had been swallowed and the cock in her mouth had stopped twitching and started softening, she released Andrew and smiled triumphantly at Elena.
"If you don't like the taste, just go down further next time so he misses your tongue entirely. They never notice and don't mind. Other than that, it's just a matter of practice." Elena offered some final words of advice.
"You can practice every morning if you like." Andrew suggested, still catching his breath.
"See how easily pleased men are?" Elena sighed dramatically. "Let's us girls go and shower. Some of us have work to do today."
"Can I watch?" Andrew asked. Patricia looked at Elena for her cue. Elena nodded to her.
""I'll wash you too, if you like." Patricia husked. "I haven't got any work to do today."
"But I have." Said Andrew. Recalling that he had clients at 12.00 and 2.30. "You'd better hurry, or Elena will start without you." He urged Patricia out of bed because Elena had already got up and he could hear the shower running. Patricia, he noted, had a new spring in her step. Her 'therapy' was certainly producing results. He dragged himself to his feet and went to join them. It was quite a show.
* * * * *
Showered, dressed and only half an hour behind schedule, Elena kissed Patricia and Andrew goodbye and ran out the door. They were sat in bathrobes at the kitchen table, getting sticky on toast and marmalade. Andrew glanced at the clock: 11AM. He had an hour before his first appointment.
"I need the house to myself this afternoon. Work. D'you think you could take 4 hours of shopping?" He made a long arm for a notepad and biro. "I'll give you a list." He started to jot something down.
"Mmm." Patricia nodded, still with a mouthful of toast. She watched him write several lines then accepted the list and read it.
underwear - must be thongs because I like looking at your bottom ;-)
dresses - anything you definitely couldn't wear to church
trousers - black. fitted. remember I like looking at your bottom
shoes - at least an inch higher than any of your others
p.s. don't forget to pop by The Sanctuary and pick up your old clothes
She smiled to herself. "I thought it was my bosoms you liked to look at."
"Only when you're facing me. When you walk away..."
"My bottom is bigger than Elena's too."
"Your sister has a dancer's figure. You have traditional curves. You shouldn't try to make comparisons. It's like comparing the Venus de Milo with Beethoven's 5th - Their both beautiful but for totally different reasons."
"So which am I?"
"Neither. I wasn't being literal. You're just a pretty girl who needs to start dressing like one so men - other men - will notice. Because, if were going to join a nunnery, you would have done so by now so it's about time you explored your other options. If you start to look sexy, you'll start to feel sexy. Trust me."
"I do trust you. But I can't afford all this. I have a budget."
"You can afford it. I saw the salary figure."
Patricia looked puzzled.
"Oh! I forgot to give you the letter! I picked up the post while you girls were toasting breakfast. The BBC offered you the job." He got up and fetched the letter. By the time he got back to the table, the news had sunk in and Patricia's cheeks were once again wet with tears - the crying happy sort. He put his arms around her shoulders, bending to kiss her neck and hug her. Needless to say, he hadn't forgotten the letter at all, just waited until it afforded him another opportunity for positive reinforcement of Patricia's fragile new sense of self-esteem.
She held his wrist and pressed back against his body, trembling with joyful emotion. She could stay in London now! Be near her sister. Be near Andrew. Be herself - her new self. She drew Andrew's hands apart, drawing one down onto her breast, displacing the bathrobe in the process. Her nipple hardened on contact and she sighed at the new and familiar touch.
Despite his cock's conditioned reflex, Andrew was all too aware of the time. He gave her a minute or two then gently extracted his hand, kissed her on the crown and reminded her that he had work to do and she had a shopping list.
Andrew's first client paused in the hallway to glance back and check out the young woman who'd just brushed past him by the fire door. Patricia never even noticed him scoring an eyeful of décolletage.
* * * * *
Patricia surprised herself with her purchasing decisions. She walked away from Bond Street laden with bags of underwear and clothes from shops she wouldn't even have gone into a week ago. The lingerie wasn't as daring as Andrew's choices but she fervently hoped he'd approve. She'd got three dresses too. The sort she always thought of as Elena dresses rather than Patricia dresses. She chided herself for using such labels: Andrew would, she knew, go on at length about not trying to be her sister.
She'd got the job! She'd got the job! She'd got... Yes! Life in London beckoned. A new city, a new start and a new life. She was buzzing with excitement at the prospects... and Elena and Andrew were there for her. It felt so good to be so cherished.
At 4pm she found a payphone and called Andrew.
"Oh, it's you" He sounded pleased to hear from her. "Finished your retail therapy yet?"
"Yes. I have lots of new clothes that I wouldn't wear in Cascais."
"You're not in Cascais. What I want to know is will they look good in a heap on our bedroom floor?"
Patricia giggled coquettishly. "You are interested in only one thing from me."
"Of course. The book I'm writing about you will make me famous. I'm gonna call it 'Fabricat Amor Vincit Omnia'"
Patricia recognised most of the Latin and, speaking a Latin rooted language, translated it all easily - well, so she should. The BBC had just offered her a job as a translator. "Making love conquers everything."
"Exactly. How sex with your therapist can make you a happier person."
"Tell me something I don't know. Like what you want to do for dinner tonight."
"I want a picnic."
"Yes. A picnic. I found a shop called Fort..."She glanced at her handful of bags to try and read the name. It was buried behind her new trousers. "I think it was called Fortis and something."
"Fortnum and Mason?"
"That's it. You are clever. I've bought us some bread and French cheese and cold meat and fruit and a bottle of wine. We can go to the park and have a picnic."
"What a lovely idea." Andrew was honestly impressed at this proactive behaviour. Patricia was being quietly assertive and romantic. It was a very positive sign. That was Andrew's opinion as a therapist: As a man, he simply thought of canoodling on the grass in St James' Park.
"We need something to sit on...and a corkscrew. Where will we meet?"
"There's a magazine kiosk just up the road from Fortnum & Mason, right by the gate to the park. I'll be there in half an hour. Ok?"
"Ok...Oh, and don't forget the corkscrew."
The pips announced that her money was running out.
"I won't. Blanket and corkscrew. I've written it down... Patricia..."
The phone went dead in her hand. She hung it up with a shrug and strolled along to the park gate.
Andrew was predictably punctual. He found her leafing through a copy of Cosmo and, after nuzzling her neck and getting a swan necked peck in return, he eased the magazine from her hands, closed it and put it back on the rack.
"Those magazines are evil. They're designed to make women feel unhappy with how they look. Elena had one - Vogue, I think - that actually published a survey that showed 98% of women are unhappy with their bodies. Images like that..." He pointed at the cover of the magazine she'd been reading. It showed a very slim and admittedly very beautiful woman in a backless gown. "...are why you, Darling Patricia, were so unhappy." He kissed her neck again, allowing her to get a word in edgewise.
"I was just looking at-"
"You were just looking at perfect women in perfect outfits, with perfect lighting who, when the camera stopped clicking, went back to lives full of anxiety as they wait for the day when the phone stops ringing because they're too old or have put on four pounds or long hair is in fashion this year or they're too light or too dark or... Anorexia and bulimia only exist because of these magazines. These beautiful girls..." He gestured expansively at the whole shelf of fashion magazines. "...are all as unhappy about their bodies as you were two days ago. Though none of them would admit to it. And you know what?"
"What?" Patricia, realizing he was going to go on for a while had settled back into his arms. She liked to hear him talk like this - like a counsellor - He got so... animated.
"There's no helping them."
"Because Elena would never let me." He squeezed her tight.
Laughing, Patricia twisted around to face him and kissed him properly. "You wouldn't have time. I'm not cured yet." She pressed her cheek to his shoulder and hugged him tight, feeling all warm and tingly in her abdomen. She'd become very conscious of the fabric of her underwear while shopping and taken off her panties because they were driving her to distraction. The waxing had left her so sensitive! Now she was feeling naughty for wearing no underwear in public. She wondered how Andrew would react when he found out.