She moved in next door to me at the start of the summer and we introduced ourselves. Both being single women, we had something in common, and this helped cement our friendship. We didn't become very close friends or anything - it's not as if we were always together, or popping in an out of each other's flats - but we became good mates.
Ruth is beautiful, in a very sexy way. She exudes sexuality, and the smallest, trifling gesture seems to be infused with deeper meaning. She has short black hair, very like mine, and an aquiline nose, long, sharp and pointed. Really, with that nose, she should have longer hair, to deflect attention from it, but she doesn't; and perversely, it seems to add to her allure. It is the imperfection in her features which makes her perfect, not like some plastic, cloned Hollywood vision of beauty. She has a large mouth, with full, red lips which are always stretched back in a canine smile, at once charming and enticing. Her eyes are deep brown, large and round, and it is possible to get lost staring in them; they have a hypnotic pull, drawing you into them, and you feel that, through them, Ruth can see straight into your soul.
As the summer progressed we saw more and more of one another, and I began to look forward to our meetings. I found that I could listen to her for hours. She was only a year older than me, but seemed to have done so much. She told me tales about her boyfriends, sometimes (usually after we'd had a couple of bottles of wine) in fairly raucous detail. Strangely, though, I never felt embarrassed. On the contrary, I felt very much at ease in her company, relaxed in a way which was very different from my usual manner. I am quite a shy person, very reserved and undemonstrative. Although I don't normally go in for a lot of touching, Ruth was a very tactile person, always touching me, taking my hand, running her fingers through my cropped hair. Normally I would have hated that, but with Ruth it seemed natural. Not in a sexual way; it didn't turn me on, but it just seemed to make the bond between us tighter.
So when did I begin to think of Ruth in a different way? I don't know, to be honest. I can't think of an occasion when I first though about her in a sexual way, but by the end of the summer I certainly was entertaining highly charged fantasies about the two of us. Outwardly, I displayed no evidence of this; nor did Ruth do anything which could be construed as a come-on. I would dream of the two of us together - in a shower, in a bed, rolling in the grass - oh yes, especially rolling in the grass! - with Ruth gently guiding me, subtly but firmly taking the lead. I would sit and talk to her, all the time thinking such improper thoughts. Staring into her eyes, those bottomless, ethereal eyes, I would feel sure she could read my thoughts, and blush. Then she would graze her hand up my arm, gesturing while making some point, and a frisson of excitement would ride through me. Feet tucked modestly beneath her legs, leaning against the back of the settee, with her head resting gently in her hand, she would talk to me - hours and hours - and I listened to that voice. Listened to it as an instrument rather than listening to the words; hearing the tone of her voice, the sonorous flow of her discourse on whatever subject she chose to raise.
It was no good. I'm not a lesbian, but inexorably I was falling in love with this woman. I couldn't bear not to be with her, felt breathless enough to be ill when I was with her, and couldn't get her out of my mind. The smell of her hair, the delicate, porcelain feel of her skin, the pale down on her upper lip. Those ears, small, intricate, perfectly symmetrical. Fingers, long and elegant; how I longed to feel them stroke my cheek. Breasts, small and firm, with upturned nipples showing through her thin tee shirt. Oh, those breasts. How they distracted me, drove me wild, filled my thoughts.
I concocted all sorts of scenarios, just like in the best porn stories, for getting us together. Inadvertently caught in a shower of rain and drying off together in front of a log fire...Drunken truth or dares...One of us upset about something and the other offering support which spills into... well you get the picture.
And in the end, it didn't happen like that at all. No elaborate plotting, no grand scene. It was almost banal, in a way. Ruth kissed me. And that was all. We were chatting, as we usually did, seated on the settee. I had made some coffee and we were discussing a book I was reading. Then, for no reason, Ruth bent forward, cocked her head slightly and, with the briefest of pauses, kissed me on my lips. The world stopped for a few seconds, as we stared at one another, neither quite believing what had happened. Ruth rested her left hand softly on my shoulder and kissed me again, this time without breaking away. Her tongue gently circled my lips, tickling them delightfully, then prised them apart and darted into my mouth. It was hot and sweet and exhilerating. I could feel her breath as she exhaled through her nose, and felt more intimate than I have ever felt before or since. We were two people immutably joined by a kiss, feeling identical experiences simultaneously. We were together.
Ruth broke off the kiss and rocked back on her heels. She stared at me, an inscrutable gaze, then grinned in a deliciously impish way. She gripped my tee shirt and raised it upwards over my upstretched arms. Almost with the same movement, she twisted sideways and felt for my bra strap. Instantly it fell away, revealing my breasts to her... And she smiled. My heart melted at that and I fell into her arms, willing her to caress me. Her fingers, those beautiful long, slender fingers, rolled themselves around my breast, squeezing gently, stroking me as if I were the most delicate fabric in the world.
She lowered her head and gathered my pink, swollen areola into her mouth. Her teeth grazed it softly as she began to suck, almost imperceptibly at first, on my nipple. Gradually she increased the pressure, while her tongue circled around it, and feelings I had never known swept through me. The sensation in my breast was so heightened it was as if no other part of me existed. I don't know how many minutes we lay like that, me cradling her head as she sucked on my breast. It could have been a lifetime; certainly I will remember it for one.
She turned me round and stared at me, taking in my black, trimmed bush, my pink lips, puffy and moist with excitement, my bud, aroused and peeking out from its refuge. Pulling me down on the settee, she lowered her head and began to kiss my thighs, up and down their length, each time getting closer and closer to my bush until, at last, I could feel her mouth resting on it, her breath bristling through my trimmed hairs. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and downwards, towards my pussy. The world was a spinning vortex, everywhere was silence and noise, hot and cold. Her tongue slid along my lips as she drew in my scent. Delicately, exploratively, she tasted my juices and, seeming to like them, lapped deeper and longer. She gripped first one lip, then the other, gently but firmly in her mouth and sucked; the sensations in my already swollen lips fizzed through me. By now Ruth's tongue was deep inside my pussy, her nose pressed firmly against my clit; as her tongue rubbed up and down inside me, so her nose grazed my clitoris, stimulating it almost beyond tolerance. I begged Ruth to suck it and she drew her tongue upwards, coarsely chafing my lips, until her mouth hovered over my clit. And heaven, she drew it into her mouth, rubbing either side of it with her tongue, as she began to suck. The final moments, I knew, before I exploded into a million pieces of sexual matter and sailed through eternity into that ecstacy of fulfilment. My breathing was fast and short and Ruth sensed I was close. She redoubled her efforts, sucking harder on my clit, now hard as stone. I held her head, stroking her hair, as she pulled my clit and pussy into her. Seconds to go... I gazed around the room, seeing everything, taking in nothing. From the pit of my stomach sensations lurched upwards, enveloping my chest, filling them with anticipation. I couldn't breathe. My legs started to shake. My hand were curled tightly into fists, which I tried to relax. Another wave of pleasure washed over me, and another, and another, and I was in the midsts of an almighty climax. I was crying, so intense was it, and began to think it would never end. Time after time the sensations careered through my body, from my toes to my scalp, rippling through me like an electric current. As it subsided I lay there, weak, exhausted and more elated than I have ever known.
On to the next story: Seducing Jamie
