(C) Copyright Carey Newton 2007 All Rights Reserved.

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The Touch Of A Woman (FF cons rom)

Helen had never known what it was like to see. Having been born
blind sight was a mystery to her. Friends had tried to describe
colours to her in terms she could understand but despite their
best efforts it still made no sense to her. She experienced the
world vividly using her other senses, especially hearing and
touch. It was as if she was swimming in the depths of an ocean of
sensation while immersed in air.

How could you imagine something that you had never experienced?
The intellectual concept of light fascinated her but she had no
frame of reference and, like religious faith, it was something
that she believed to be true but could never quite experientially
grasp or hold. The closest that she came was to think of the
warmth of the sun as it caressed her face on a summer -(TM)s day,
but she knew that was still only a shadow of the reality that
others spoke of.

The door bell rang, abruptly pulling her thoughts back into the
present.  She eased herself out of the chair and walked across
the familiar carpeted space into the hallway, unconsciously
counting the number of steps in the back of her mind until she
came to the door. Pressing the intercom she said, "Hallo."

A tinny voice answered her through the small loudspeaker, "Hi
Helen, its Jane. Are you going to let me in? It's freezing out
here!"

Helen smiled, Jane was her best friend and they had arranged to
meet this afternoon. She had lost track of the time. Pressing the
button she released the entrance door below.

Jane breezed in with an air of easy familiarity and planted a
kiss on Helen's cheek, "Hi love, how's tricks?"

They had known each other since school, even sharing a room
together at University although they were on different courses.
In some ways they were more like sisters, only without the
potential for bickering and competition that existed with genuine
siblings. Each seemed to know intuitively what the other was
thinking and as a result words were often superfluous between
them.

Jane took off her coat and hanging it up in the hall followed
Helen through into the lounge where they both sat down. For a
moment there was the rare barrier of an uncomfortable silence
between them before Helen spoke,

"I really do appreciate your doing this for me."

"What are friends for?" Jane joked.

"Even so, I appreciate that it's asking a lot, but I need help
and I couldn't imagine asking anyone else."

"So tell me again, why do you want to do this?" Jane spoke gently
and with a genuine curiosity that belied her usual directness.

Helen paused, considering her words carefully before replying,

"When I meet someone for the first time and want to know what
they look like I ask for permission to touch their face." She
paused, colouring slightly "It's just that I want to be able to
feel what it, I . . . am like when I touch myself down there."

"All the obstacles removed so to speak."

Helen blushed even more deeply and suppressed the hint of a
smile, "Yes, it's something I've always wanted to do but never
quite been brave enough."

"Well . . . , there's no time like the present and we don't want
you changing your mind do we. Are you ready?"

"Yes," replied Helen with an air of determination.

They walked into Helen's bedroom where she casually unzipped her
jeans and eased them down past her hips, sitting on the side of
the bed as she took them off. All she was wearing were the brief
black knickers, that she was told matched the colour of her hair,
and the baggy t-shirt she had bought with Jane in Paris last
year, the one that she liked to lounge around the heated
apartment in. Jane watched, unembarrassed, admiring the outline
of her friend's slim figure and firm young breasts through the
thin cotton.

Helen walked into the ensuite bathroom and reached out to flick
the light switch as she passed by. Her hand brushed the sink as
she turned and sat down on the toilet seat.

"Where are you?" she asked

"Here by the doorway," answered Jane.

"OK."

She lifted her hips from the seat and eased her knickers down to
her knees. It was rather like going for a piss, she reflected,
except for the fact that the toilet lid was down. She bent and
eased the underwear to her ankles. Lifting her feet to take them
off she laid the knickers on the wash basket beside her,
instinctively keeping her legs modestly together. She then pulled
her t-shirt up above her waist, just below her breasts. She was
naked beneath.

"One of the advantages of not being able to see is that you have
far fewer hang-ups about nudity than sighted people," she said
smiling.

Jane did not respond but continued to take pleasure in looking at
her friend. She has always appreciated the freedom that Helen's
blindness gave her to stare and when they were alone she had got
into the habit of taking full advantage of it. Her eyes roamed
over Helen's body starting with her moist parted lips and the
small hollow of her throat that was so curiously intimate and
vulnerable. The breasts were full and the outline of Helen's
nipples was clearly visible against the cotton of the t-shirt
since she was not wearing a bra. Jane's gaze swept lower
committing to memory the long pale legs and dark furry down at
the triangle of her thighs.

She ran the hot tap in the sink and taking the safety razor and
shaving brush from her bag worked up a lather using the gel she
had brought with her.

"Open up my dear" she instructed in an amused tone.

Helen parted her thighs as wide as they would go. Despite the
intimacy of the moment she felt almost clinical about what they
were doing.

Jane applied the lather liberally, pausing to add more water
before taking up the razor. Helen relaxed, enjoying the novel
sensations of the brush and then gentle fingers on her flesh and
the delicious vulnerability of allowing another person, even
someone she trusted so implicitly, to use a razor on her most
sensitive and intimate parts.

Jane worked efficiently and carefully, rinsing the razor every
now and then under the tap and taking exquisite care when working
close to the more delicate parts of Helen's anatomy. Eventually
the movement of the razor on her flesh stopped and Helen felt the
softness of a towel pressing against the folds of her sex. Her
skin tingled slightly as Jane, having laid the towel down parted
the now smooth lips of Helen's sex with the fingers of two hands
like a ripe fruit, revealing the blossoming bud and a tiny pearl
of moisture within.

"Does my doing this turn you on?" she asked.

"No." Helen's response was quick, but there was a trace of
uncertainty in her voice. Jane's finger traced the now vulnerable
cleft of Helen's sex before easily delving inside.

"Mmm . . . are you sure?" she said playfully.

Helens response was to part her lips and offer a soft sigh as the
finger tentatively brushed the hooded bud of her clitoris.

Before proceeding any further Jane asked for permission, "May I?"

Helen nodded, her breathy, "Yes" coming out as a soft surrender.

Jane parted the labia and was entranced by what she saw, "You
know, you really are beautiful. Your pussy is just like a flower
closed tight against the sun, or a secret chamber hidden from
prying eyes."

"Very poetic," Helen laughed despite herself.

"No, really I'm serious. I love to look at you like this."

"Honestly?" There was a trace of doubt in Helen's voice, she had
always struggled with accepting that other people could find her
attractive.

"Yes, honestly . . . in fact I'm a little jealous. I'd give a lot
to look like you down there."

"How are we different?"

The conversation was taking an unexpected turn.

"Well, shaven you look just like a young girl, your crack hides
all your charms whereas mine are only too visible and external.

There was a pause but Jane noticed that Helen did not close her
legs or try to cover herself. Her reply when it came was low but
firm,

"I would like to see that."

Jane was genuinely surprised, despite what had just taken place
between them; she had always considered Helen to be quite prim
and proper. As far as she knew her friend had only ever had one
sexual partner, a boy they had both gone out with briefly at
University. After Helen had slept with him they subsequently
split up and he had made a play for her room-mate Jane. She had
led him on, skilfully avoiding any real physical intimacy, before
dropping him very publicly just as he had began to get serious
about her. She remembered the sweet sense of revenge she had felt
on behalf of her friend. She forced her mind to concentrate,

"Oh . . . you mean to touch?"

It was her turn to blush furiously, but luckily Helen was
unaware.
"Yes, since for me to touch equivalent to seeing. Will you let
me?"

There was a pause, "You're serious aren't you?"

Jane gazed at Helen trying to gauge what was really going on
inside her head.

"Yes, it's only fair if you think about it. After all you've seen
me."

Suddenly there was a tension between them, as if the balance of
their relationship had significantly changed and they both knew,
that whatever her response, there could be no going back to the
innocence of their previous friendship.

Jane looked at Helen's face, so hesitant and yet hopeful. She
resisted the urge to take her into her arms, that could come
later but it was not what either of them desired at this moment.

"Give me your hand," she said simply.

Smiling and blushing prettily Helen held out her hand and Jane
helped her to rise.

"Why don't we go somewhere more comfortable?"

Helen led the way back into the bedroom as Jane followed. She was
naked from the waist down and her taut buttocks swung
delightfully as she walked. It was a very attractive image and
Jane wished she had a camera to record it. The memory though
would linger and suffice.

Standing beside the bed Jane took hold of Helen's hand and held
it pressed against her breast,

"Why don't you take off my clothes?" she said simply. No other
words were required between them.

Helen began to undo the buttons of Jane's blouse and divest her
of her clothing. She struggled a little with the hook of the bra
because her hands were trembling and the other girl hand to help
her. When it was done she moulded her hand again to the shape of
Jane's breast, this time with her palm against the bare flesh,
feeling its curve and texture with her fingertips. The nipple
firmed at her touch and she circled it gently with her thumb. She
could feel Jane's breath hot on her face and their lips brushed
as growing bolder they kissed.

Her hands dropped to Jane's waist and unbuttoning her jeans
pulled down the zip. With a little help they slip down and Jane
stepped out of them and kicked them away. Then she hooked her
thumbs in the waist band of Jane's white knickers,

"Wait," said Jane, "take of your t-shirt first."

Helen was vaguely aware of how the initiative kept switching
between them. Neither was quite sure who should take the lead, it
was a new situation for them both.

Helen stood back and with a fluid motion pulled the t-shirt over
her head tousling her hair as she did so. The movement revealed
her breasts, full and blue veined with rosy tips that swung
freely as she tossed her last remaining garment aside.

"There, is that better for you?" she asked adopting a pose.

"Definitely!" responded Jane.

"I do hope the curtains are drawn," Helen said remembering where
she was.

Jane just smiled making no rely other than to walk to the bed and
climb on to it. Helen listened to the creaking of the springs as
her friend stretched out flat on her stomach facing the headboard
with the bright sunlight from the window playing across her back.

Helen came forward and reaching out touched Jane's back and
slowly traced a line lower, getting her bearings. She climbed
onto the bed beside her and said,

"Lift up your hips."

With some assistance she eased Jane's knickers down to her ankles
and helped to take them off. Jane relaxed and shutting her eyes
gave herself up to the sensuous pleasure of Helen's hands moving
on her skin. It was more gentle than a massage but equally
thorough as her friend explored with her fingertips every angle
and curve of Jane's body. Helen deliberately avoided the junction
of Jane's thighs wanting to save the best until last but lingered
over the crevice of her buttocks brushing lightly down the space
between and pressing gently against the crinkled muscle of the
opening to her anus. Jane tensed at this apparent intrusion but
did not protest and was almost disappointed when the finger
withdrew rather than pressing in.

"Turn over."

Jane shuffled onto her back and the process was repeated
beginning with her feet and stopping at the top of her thighs.
Moving to the top of the bed Helen felt the contours of Jane's
skull, then caressed her cheeks. As she brushed her lips they
opened and drew the finger in sucking it gently. With her mouth
she explored the hollow of her friend's throat and the smooth
flesh above her breasts.

Jane's breasts were smaller that her own with large aureole and
pronounced nipples which, moving to sit astride her, Helen held
between the thumb and forefinger of each hand pinching them
gently and causing Jane to take a sharp intake of breath. Helen
was playful and full of surprises today.

Finally, she shuffled down her body and the dancing fingers began
to explore Jane's hips and groin. The skin was sensitive and she
quickly discovered she was ticklish there,

"Stop laughing," said Helen smiling, "this is supposed to be
serious."

"Sorry," said Jane stifling a giggle as Helen climbed off her.

"Open up for me," she instructed getting back into the role.

Obediently Jane bent her knees and spread her legs wide as her
friend lightly ran her fingers down the inside of her thighs
coming to a stop at the warm, humid centre of her being.
Carefully Helen traced the outline of Jane's labia with her
fingertips committing them to memory.

"Mmm, I see what you mean."

The corner of her mouth curled as she struggled to maintain her
serious expression unaware of Jane looking at her over the twin
mounds of her breasts.

Without warning the finger opened Jane up and delved deeper,
going in right up
to the knuckle, finding easy access in the moist passage,

"Is this turning you on?" Helen asked coyly above her, echoing
the conversation earlier.

"Shut up and make me come!"

Without removing her hand Helen lay down beside Jane and leant
across her, their bodies touching breast to breast. Lips soon
followed and then tongues, as with her right hand she reached to
caress Jane's clitoris with her well lubricated finger. Jane
gasped and buried her face in Helen's shoulder as she began to
come and spasm with smothered cries against her friend's body.

*

In the afterglow of sex and the fading afternoon light they lay
together in the tangled sheets, satisfied and sweaty with
depleted desire. Jane had come a second time and in her turn had
brought Helen to a climax. Now they simply held one another
close, each listening to the beating of the others heart and the
sound of their breathing.

Helen broke the silence between them, "You know that I've always
wanted to do this."

"What stopped you?" Jane asked curious.

"I was never sure what you felt, how you would respond to any
overtures on my part. I suppose I was afraid of losing you."

Jane smiled, and taking her friends face in her hands said with
great tenderness,

"Shut up and kiss me."

She did.
