Secrets: a tale of lesbian love

An erotic story by my friend Karen...

The two women were no older than twenty-five, or so Berinda guessed, as she watched them from her hiding-place among the trees. The small glade where they met for their weekly tryst lay near the edge of the forest, not far from a half-forgotten trail, and its location had been a secret for many months. A secret known only to these two furtive lovers, until Berinda discovered it.

She knew both women slightly, having briefly worked alongside them at harvest time, but only in recent weeks had she learned of their secret meetings in the woodland glade. There, upon the green grass in the sunshine, they met each week, at the third hour after noon. In a silence broken only by the rustling of leaves and the buzzing of honeybees they made passionate love, breathlessly enjoying each other's gentle caresses until the sun went down on the western plain.

Berinda knew their names: Cathkin of the River Ridge and Lily of the Stoneland. She knew also the names of their husbands. What price, she wondered, would these women pay to ensure the preservation of their secret?

She wondered, too, what their husbands would do if they ever discovered the truth. Berinda knew what her own husband would do if he caught her indulging in such pleasures: nothing at all, for he no longer kept any affection for her and had little interest in her life. After six years of marriage their relationship had crumbled, although Berinda still had to yield her body to his drunken passion every Saturday night. She detested him, and he despised her, calling her a barren witch. He often cursed her childlessness but still leered at her voluptuous form whenever she bathed. Her long black hair, reaching down to her buttocks, still fascinated him, as did her narrow waist and sumptuous breasts. But Berinda no longer found him attractive in any way, nor indeed did she feel attraction to any man. Her preferences were shifting in a different direction, as she neared her thirtieth year, and she now liked to imagine herself sharing her bed with a beautiful woman.

Cathkin and Lily were certainly beautiful. Their lithe, suntanned bodies stirred Berinda's desires. She loved to see their blonde hair catching the sunlight in the glade, or their blue eyes shining as they whispered their secret love. Every week, for the past two months, Berinda had followed them furtively to the forest, creeping behind them as they made their way to their trysting-place, watching as they slowly undressed. Seeing them kiss and caress in a gasping embrace made her so envious that she almost wept with self-pity, wishing desperately that she could share the same delight. For Cathkin and Lily always laughed whenever they kissed. They expressed their affection with boundless joy, like a couple of golden-haired forest sprites, giggling excitedly as they held each other close.

Berinda longed to make her hidden presence known to them, to enter their special glade with an honest heart, to admit that she enjoyed spying on their lovemaking. Perhaps they might invite her to join them? Perhaps they might kiss her breasts and stroke her feminine parts in the way they kissed and stroked one another? Or perhaps they might become angry, running away in shame and fear, tearfully begging the unwelcome intruder to keep their secret safe?

For the moment, however, she remained content to merely observe them. The sight of their slender naked bodies writhing on the grass gave her such a thrill that she always masturbated while watching them. There she would crouch, as silent as a fox among the green leaves, with a hand beneath her skirt, coaxing her moist slit to a quiet orgasm. Then, as her climax subsided, she would crawl swiftly away through the undergrowth until she reached the path.

For how many weeks could she endure such furtive self-pleasure, such exquisite temptation, in secretive silence? How long must she wait before her courage grew strong enough to reveal herself to Cathkin and Lily? To these questions she had no answer, even though the words tormented her each week as she trod the lonely path back to her village. She knew she was not yet brave enough to show herself. One day, perhaps, the courage would suddenly come. Until then, she could only watch and wait, before going home alone and frustrated, with teardrops stinging her eyes as she walked through the bright woodlands.

THE END

Copyright © Karen Sacoma 2005

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Shaving

Here's me, Yasmin, reminiscing about a past relationship..... 

My ex-lover Susan and I dated for a year and a half. We met on a blind date one summer evening in 2005 and spent the night together at her house, enjoying each other's bodies until we were both exhausted. Susan was quite a reserved sort of woman but she certainly spoke frankly on our second date, when we went on a shopping trip. During a brief pause at a coffee bar she asked me how I felt about shaving off my pubic hair. All of it, every wisp and bristle.

Having already slept with Susan on our first date I knew she kept her crotch smooth and hairless. Shaved pussies do look cute and sexy, especially if the woman's labia are nicely shaped, and Susan's pussy was very beautiful. But shaving off my own pubes was not something I had wanted to do before, except the usual trimming and waxing around the bikini line. During my twenties I sometimes went as far as a kind of half-Brazilian, leaving a square patch of bristles above and around my slit, but the idea of a totally bald mound had never really appealed. I would probably not need to trim, shave or wax as frequently as I do if my pubic hair wasn’t so dark.

Anyway, Susan became quite insistent about it, so I agreed to go totally bald before our third date (when we again planned to sleep together at her house). Shaving the pubic area is neither difficult nor uncomfortable, but a suitably sensitive razor is absolutely essential. Being lazy, I used to persuade my sister to perform this task if she was around (and I’d have to reciprocate, of course). Unfortunately, Trish was off the radar in the days leading up to my third date with Susan, so I had to do the job all by myself. When it was finally complete, though after much cursing and squeaking, I felt quite pleased with the result. I checked my reflection in the mirror in my bedroom, standing with my legs apart, nude from the waist down, trying to spot any stray strands. I ran a finger over my mound to test its smoothness. My skin felt lovely and soft, like satin, and I knew Susan would be incredibly turned on when she saw it.

Well, I was right about that! She was so eager to see my new look that she started slavering like an animal when she got me home at the end of the evening. I was literally dragged upstairs to the bedroom, where she pretty much ripped my clothes off. Soon I stood naked before her, while she knelt at my feet to inspect my freshly shaved womanhood. Then something really weird happened - I became very, very embarrassed. I'm not usually shy about my body, having spent part of my twenties working as a dancer, but suddenly I was overcome with coyness. It was almost like the first time I ever undressed for sex. In fact, it was ten times worse. I felt like I needed to run off and hide. I wanted to curl into a ball in some dark corner where nobody could see me. Susan asked me if I was OK, but I just turned my head away and put my hands over my face. I knew I was blushing a deep shade of red (my skin is a light olive-brown, which makes even a slight blush look dark).

Fortunately, Susan is a perceptive and sensitive lady. When we were dating, she always knew what to say in awkward situations. She made a joke of my shyness and everything was alright again. Within a few moments we were giggling and cuddling on the bed, both of us feeling easy and relaxed and ready to make love. I still felt odd, still a bit embarrassed, but it soon passed. Even now, 7 years later, I still don’t know why I got timid all of a sudden. Nothing like it has happened since, but nor has anyone else asked me to shave my pubes, so it’s hard to know if the same feeling of shyness would hit me again.

That night, Susan and I took our lovemaking to a new dimension. Her passion grew so hot that I almost saw steam gushing out of her ears. Her reaction to my hairless pussy was manic, frenzied, slightly scary. She couldn't stop touching it, kissing it, running her hot wet tongue all over it. When we melded our bodies together it felt totally awesome, just as she had promised it would. Our smooth slits rubbed together like two slippery mouths. The subsequent orgasms were fantastic, mind-blowing, intense.

After that I continued shaving my pubes. Not all the time, and certainly not as often as Susan wanted. To be honest, I just couldn't be bothered. It's a bit of a drag, even when someone else does it for you. I guess it became a kind of special treat for Susan whenever I turned up with no bristles down there, but she didn’t hassle me if I presented her with a triangle of dark, half-grown fur. She still kept herself meticulously hairless the whole time and never seemed to mind razors and waxing and all that stuff. Being a natural blonde she could have sprouted a patch of honey-colored stubble and still looked fairly smooth from a few feet away. But she seemed obsessed with removing even the slightest hint of hair. That was okay with me, because I enjoyed stroking her lovely smooth mound, and placing tiny kisses all over it, and hearing the little gasps she made when my tongue roamed gently across its silky surface.

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Yaz xx