Helena (11 page)

Frank spoke
first, flashing a quick conspiratorial smile at you, Freddie:

"So you are
Helena. You are beautiful!" he said rising from his seat, leaning
over me, brushing his lips delicately on my cheek.

Jean-Claude,
equally the gentleman rose too, smiled and offered his hand:
"Pleased to meet you," he said a little awkwardly, then gesturing
towards his wife he introduced Simone, who smiled showing her
dazzlingly white even teeth. Adele shouted over her greeting,
flashing her brown eyes in my direction.

No, it wasn't
a disappointment, every individual had their separate charm, their
appeal, it just seemed like a hundred other meetings or parties I
had attended with Gregory. There was nothing in that first
introduction that indicated the sensual pleasures I had
anticipated. I remember you coming to sit at my side as I occupied
the remaining armchair, pouring me a drink, taking my hand in
yours, exerting a comforting, reassuring pressure; as Frank told us
various anecdotes about college life, Adele strident outsider
thinking that she was getting something like insider
information.

As I drank my
wine steadily, I felt my face tingling with excitement, my face
suddenly fixing on Jean-Claude, the tingling sensation spreading
between my thighs.

Clever Freddie
and your fondness of potions. I had wondered why you poured out of
a demijohn and not the bottle. Ridiculously, I had thought this
uncharacteristically prissy of you. Little did I know. Everybody
was in on the act apart from Adele and I.

Frank had been
in deep conversation with Adele, their light laughter filling the
room. His hand had casually almost absentmindedly begun stroking
her hair, his lips occasionally brushing her cheek. Suddenly he got
up and kneeled beside Adele, her bright eyes watching him, her
plump breasts heaving in her unexpected excitement. Jean-Claude,
sitting between Adele and his wife, calmly reached over his hand
and began stroking the young student's face.

Adele started
to look a little bewildered. Lust burned in her body, but her sense
of modesty, of decency even, held her back. I recognized my own
restraint in the confused expression of her face. I know that you
later told me she had visited you many times before and was as
interested in her own sexual exploration as I was, but I could see
that she was momentarily perturbed by both her sudden lustful
feelings and the attention she was beginning to receive from the
two men. Simone kneeled between her legs and casually began
unbuckling the younger woman's belt.

I am sure that
I would have been aroused anyway, even if you hadn't laced my drink
with an aphrodisiac. It was thrilling to watch the young baffled
girl; baffled being seduced like that.

Jean-Claude,
having placed his hands under her plain white tee shirt, yanked it
over her plump breasts and licked the exposed bulge of white flesh
fringed with white lace. Frank, who had stood up, was now prodding
his erect cock against the cheek of the girl's face.

Watching such
a scene, I felt my hand automatically reach down to stroke my
engorged pussy lips through the lace of my panties. You stood up
too, Freddie, pulling me off the armchair, and then pulling me onto
your lap. Your fingers slid up my thighs, the tips first brushing
my stocking top along to the tender inner flesh of my thighs, then
slid under the lace, locating the hard knot of muscle with maximum
ease. You began steadily stroking my clitoris. It all happened so
quickly, one moment you were sitting down on the floor beside me,
the next I was sitting on your lap as you stroked me. It had all
seemed to be one great fluid action.

My arms
stretched out as my hands gripped the arm of the chair. Adele was
licking the base of Frank's shaft, Jean-Claude was cramming
voluptuous mounds of her white flesh into his mouth, sucking on her
breasts hard, dragging his teeth along the porcelain skin to bring
them to the thick rosy tips of her breast. Simone had yanked
Adele's jeans and panties from her, parted the girl's legs and was
tracking the length of her pussy lips with her long dexterous
tongue.

I was glad
that your rhythm on me was so steady, because if you had increased
the pace I would have come immediately.

Adele was
kneeling on the floor now, facing me and you, Jean-Claude and Frank
either side of her. As she held one cock in her hand she would
slide her mouth down the other in ardent movements of her head,
Jean-Claude still massaging her breasts as she did so, Frank was
clasping her head, propelling her onto first his cock, and then
later, Claude's. Simone kneeled behind her, lapping on her sex, her
finger at first deliciously, slowly tracing the area of flesh
between her vagina and anus and then pressing down on the aperture
of Adele's bottom. She slid her finger into the tight opening, and
began to jab hard at the sensitive inner flesh, Adele jerking with
each rough poke.

I could feel
myself coming but I wanted to hold off my pleasure until I could
have a cock inside me. I was fighting against the maddening rhythm
of your jerking, watching as Adele swivelled onto her back, so now
we had a view of her glistening pussy. Jean-Claude levered himself
beneath her, the head of his mighty cock momentarily rubbing
against her tumescent pussy lips, before he angled his body in such
a way to insert his tool between. Frank by this time had retrieved
a cushion for Adele's head and holding his rod by the base was
slowly sliding in and out of Adele's mouth as she grasped him hard
around his buttocks.

I had never
seen anything like this before in my life. It was so fantastic to
watch Jean-Claude pumping in and out of Adele, his cock slicked in
her juice, and then to see Simone lean over and lick the length of
his shaft as Adele tried to manoeuvre her hips to press down harder
onto his thick meat.

Adele could
not resist the intense pressure of orgasm now that Simone had begun
to manipulate her clitoris with her tongue, flicking at it, before
sweeping the meat of her tongue over the hard nodule as Jean-Claude
continued to mercilessly shaft her. She came screaming in the
agonized ecstasy of her climax, violently jerking her lower torso,
her muscles gripping, locking tight as she squirmed on
Jean-Claude's tool.

I really
thought that I was going to come at that moment, especially when I
saw Jean-Claude withdraw from her and ejaculating his seed around
the flesh of her clitoris; then Frank having raised Adele's head
was now thrusting himself to orgasm too. A sudden jerk and he had
locked the girl's head between his hands to shoot his seed down
into the rawness of her throat. Watching her neck, I could see her
swallowing down all his semen.

You must have
known that I was about to come, Freddie, because suddenly you
withdrew your hand from me, just as I felt the sensuous itch of
your stimulation build up inside me and begin to surge through my
body. But as I hadn't come, I was desperate. Simone came and
kneeled between my legs as she had knelt between Adele's and began
to employ all her expertise, flicking her tongue over the swollen
lips of my sex, not enough to make me instantly climax, but to
slowly increase the intensity of my pleasure.

And now
suddenly it was my turn, all the attention was focused on me, apart
that is for you. Freddie, who had crept behind Simone, raised up
her skirt, levered her panties down and was now pistoning into her
moist cunny flesh. I could see your face tensing a little more with
each thrust of your steely cock. But me, I had Adele's mouth on
mine, then her tongue snaking inside, the taste of her saliva
mingling with Frank's spunk. Jean-Claude and Frank kneeled either
side of me. They had pulled the straps of my dress down over my
breasts, and lowered my bra cups, each one taken a nipple in their
mouth, nibbling on me, biting gently on the tight knot of my teat.
Frank sneaked a hand down the other side of my panties, first
tickling me, then grabbing my buttock in his hand, pushing his
finger further onto the tender outer flesh of my anus, while
Jean-Claude stroked his hand across my pubic hair.

There were so
many different centres of pleasure, each erogenous zone itching
with desire. At last I could feel myself coming as I saw you
Freddie, taking your twitching cock out of Simone and shooting your
load onto her buttocks, forcing her mouth harder onto me. I spasmed
under their constriction, their tight control, first clenching my
thighs around the honey-blond of Simone's head, then slightly
slackening before pressing harder and harder onto her, looking down
into her clenched eyes as she reached her climax.

It was strange
to describe the atmosphere between us all afterwards. Initially
there were lots of smiles, lots of openness and caressing, but soon
the previous amiable banter started again.

A little later
we went to a bar on the corner of the street. The place was dense
with smoke, loud music pounded in the background. It was the sort
of bar I had often seen but infrequently been in: all done in
aquamarine, a parquet floor, and uncomfortable fixed stools that we
all sat on around the bar.

I know you
were a little worried about me then, thinking how quiet I was,
wondering if some sense of guilt was washing over me. I know that I
was quiet, but not guilty: Gregory was as far away from me in my
thoughts as he was in actual distance. I was shy. There was only
Adele who seemed as inexperienced as I was. For the others, as I am
sure it was for you at that stage, pleasurable though I'm sure the
experience had been, it had not quite had the momentous impact that
it had certainly had on me. I had never even passionately kissed a
woman before and there I had been spread out in the chair and
french-kissed by Adele as Simone had licked and sucked on me.

Maybe
everything was happening too quickly. No, I am not saying that I
regretted anything that had happened. I had been so terribly
excited, but, as I said, no Damascus-like conversions. You had
thrown me in at the deep end, and I was wondering whether I would
be able to swim.

You wanted to
know what I was thinking. As you walked to the bathroom, you
stopped by my stool and asked me. I told you nothing special, but
what I had been reflecting upon as you asked me was my usual
Saturday night with Gregory. A meal at about nine, a bottle of
wine, a couple of hours either watching the television or going to
the local pub as we had done the previous week, and then in bed by
eleven. Maybe there was a kiss and cuddle, a chat, occasionally an
argument, a little bit of lovemaking and then to sleep. I was a
long way from there. I was not backsliding. I knew what I had to do
and what I had already done was the only plausible thing that I
could have done, and that I wanted to do, but the full immensity of
it all was beginning to hit me. I was here at the watershed, at the
outset of a new and probably dangerous future; a future that
forsook everything. That was why I was quiet: I knew that
everything was for real. I was no longer a mere protagonist in one
of my fantasies.

Jean-Claude
sat beside me and in his lovely charming way told me about his
village in the south of France, inviting me to visit him amongst
the Cezanne hills and the lush countryside. He was a writer of
children's stories and he told me some engaging tales that he had
written. I remembered what he had looked like the moment after he
had come. There had been something delightfully childish about
him.

Freddie, for
all my doubts, my uncertainties, my fear of the future, as I sat
next to Jean-Claude, I could feel myself getting excited again,
wanting to take his hefty cock into my mouth. Maybe this was the
appeal to me of sexual abandon: it clarified, it simplified, it
reduced all the complexity, even if it was only for a fleeting
moment to the physical need of the body. I looked at Jean-Claude
and craved him, wondering how something as precious as my desire
could be wrong. What asses we make of ourselves when we hide our
true emotions!

I wanted
Jean-Claude very badly, but the person who intrigued me the most
was Simone. I couldn't believe, as she sat beside me after telling
me that she was a speech therapist, that only one hour after her
head had been buried between my legs, we were amiably talking shop
as I explained to her the type of speech problems many of my
students had.

Although it
wasn't so long until we both settled onto the subject of sex, after
Simone had asked me why I hadn't brought my husband along. I told
her my long story, how I was on the verge of leaving him, because I
was so sexually unfulfilled. I told her how he couldn't have stood
a scene like the one that we had just participated in, that it was
against every principle he believed in. She nodded sympathetically,
telling me about her first husband:

"I was the
same as you, I think," she began to tell me, "frightened of
experience but desperately tempted by it. But my husband was not so
kind as yours, not so sympathetic. He fucked around a lot. One day
I turned up at the flat. My lecture had been cancelled and I wasn't
expected until much later. He wasn't expecting me. He was fucking
one of his students. My husband was a teacher. The girl couldn't
have been more than eighteen. She was kneeling on the bed and he
was screwing her from behind, how can I say, in a more
unconventional place than he had ever screwed me.

"I suppose I
should have been angry, and I suppose I was momentarily, but the
anger passed. I realized as I stood watching them how curious I
was, watching his cock piston in and out of the voluptuous girl.
She was beautiful, this girl, had long black thick wavy hair, a
beautiful figure and the most perfect silky skin.

"I stood in
the doorway standing so still that they couldn't hear me. I, too,
had been on the verge of leaving him, unsatisfied as I was with
many aspects of our life together. It was not only our sex life.
However, suddenly, almost in a flash of self-realization, I
thought, conversely to what most people are expected to think, that
his betrayal could actually be our salvation, because it might lead
to a greater openness in our relationship, more experimentation,
and naively I thought, it might actually broaden our love."