In the two years that had slipped by so swiftly in young Leslie Groten's happy life, she was never to forget the intense, passionate thrills of that first afternoon with Miss O'Brien.
She would always remember how terribly afraid she had been, how terrified she was that she would be thrown out of Camp Summerlake, that her parents would know and she had no estimate of what punishment she would have received from them – had Miss O'Brien not changed her mind.
The experience also taught young Leslie that her "wool gathering" episodes weren't all that destructive or dangerous as her father kept reminding her. She would never regret one moment of that afternoon and the following gorgeous evenings in Miss O'Brien's private tree-house apartment high in the trees.
But she treasured that afternoon in the dressing room cabin – even though it started out so badly.
When Augusta O'Brien had first asked her to touch her between her thighs, Leslie's heart started pumping wildly. She felt all sweaty for some reason and very horny. She could smell the warmth of her own cunt and easily detected the aroma of the cognac that had dribbled between her young, coral-pink-pussy lips. She could still remember the lovely, slow-burning sensations.
Miss O'Brien was sitting down on her spread out towel. Leslie sat up close to her. For a long time the young girl looked into the older woman's eyes – and with a kind of loving affection Leslie had never before had an opportunity to display so honestly.
And Miss O'Brien was reciprocating. Her voice was soft, her manner calm and gentle – quite the opposite from those early moments when Leslie had been sobbing her poor heart out in fear of the punishment she was to receive.
"So that's the part you like to touch when you play with yourself down there, is that it, Leslie?"
"Oh, yes," the young girl had replied. "This is it. Just brushing your finger over it lightly gives me the wild shivers all over. It makes me feel all snuggly and warm, too."
Leslie's index finger was flipping lazily over Miss O'Brien's erecting clitoris. Her cunt was dampening as Leslie's finger played and wandered in the folds of bliss O'Brien's thick pussy lips. There was so much hair and it was so thick. It hid the purple thick lips and was growing moist as Leslie's finger teased.
"I like it, honey," moaned Miss O'Brien. "It really feels good."
"I told you it did," said the girl.
Now Miss O'Brien's thighs were farther apart. Both her knees were raised, and as Leslie played, she lay her head gently against Miss O'Brien's left knee. She was staring at Miss O'Brien's luscious, heavy breasts, at her dark nipples. Leslie could see them pointing and retreating as she stirred her finger through her juicy pussy lips.
"Do you ever stick your finger up inside, Leslie?" Miss O'Brien asked. Her breathing was increasing. Her eyes were opening, closing, even fluttering as she began to writhe gently in response to the tantalizing finger.
"I love to do that, too," Leslie replied, "but I usually lay back like this," she said. She demonstrated by lying back on the warm wooden boards.
"But not with your bathing suit on, dear?" Miss O'Brien questioned. Now her cunt was really vibrating. When the young girl withdrew her finger to lay back, Miss O'Brien felt an unaccustomed surging deep inside the vault of her famished vagina.
Years had passed since Miss O'Brien had fingered herself. She hadn't had a lover in as many years and had never once entertained any kind of lesbian relationship.
Even this, she told herself now, looking tenderly at the young girl, wasn't lesbianism. It was more like affection, kindness, tenderness.
"Oh, no. I love to be naked when I finger deep up inside. I love to play with my breasts and suck on my thumb at the same time. It makes me feel so good all over – and when I sip a little of the cognac, it almost drives me crazy," she explained.
"Don't you want to take off your suit, honey?" Miss O'Brien asked. "After all, you were naked when I came in… and I am, honey. It's all right. I'm sure."
Shortly Leslie Groten was naked. Miss O'Brien gasped when she lay back and opened her thighs wide. Leslie raised up one knee. "Look, watch. You'll see just howl do it, Miss O'Brien."
Miss O'Brien was panting. Her pussy cream was literally oozing out of her hot cunt, drenching the thick hairs surrounding the lips.
Miss O'Brien bent closer. She was staring now as Leslie inserted two fingers up inside her vagina. She saw her hand now caressing her breasts, rubbing her erect nipples. Leslie was sucking her thumb as she stabbed her two fingers in and out, slowly at first, then, as her passion began to flame, with more speed.
"Oh, honey," moaned Miss O'Brien. "You look just like an angel. Do you want me to touch you, too? Just like you did me, on your little clitoris?"
"If you want to, oh, yes. I'd like that. I know I would. It's never happened, but I just know I'd like you to touch it very, very much."
Miss O'Brien changed her position on the towel. She spread out on it on her belly. She was conscious of her heavy breasts squashing on the towel. Her nipples were so alive they were tingling.
She moved up closer. Now her face was an inch away from Leslie's delicious cunt. She was fascinated as the girl's fingers flew in and out. She stuck out her index finger and dragged it between the moist folds of the virgin cunt.
Leslie squealed in passion. "Oh, my goodness. Golly, that felt good! Do it again. Oh, that's really something, your finger doing what it's doing when I play up inside. It's marvelous, Miss O'Brien. Just marvelous!!"
Miss O'Brien rested her face on Leslie's undulating belly. How good and clean she smelled! She watched Leslie's fingers pinching her nipples, sucking so vigorously on her thumb. She was sowing more and more insane with a passion she had never known before this very minute.
She couldn't resist. She bent her head and took one of Leslie's nipples into her mouth. She sucked on it tenderly, then nibbled it with her teeth as the young girl squirmed and twisted, her fingers now working madly up inside her pounding virgin vagina.
"Oh, Miss O'Brien, it's heaven. It's heaven!" Leslie squealed, grinding her hips now and arching her back as Miss O'Brien's index finger scratched and caressed her inflamed clitoris.
"Honey," the older woman breathed. "Do you think it would feel different… if… if I – instead of doing this with my finger – if I tickled it down here, I mean, just with my tongue?"
Augusta O'Brien had a fantastic desire to kiss Leslie between her darling legs, to plant a hundred kisses on her warm thighs – to maybe lick the sleek white juices she could now see coating like a film all over Leslie's exposed pussy lips.
"Oh, I do. I do. I've even imagined that, Miss O'Brien. Oh, would you? Would you, maybe, do that… with your tongue, down there?"
"Oh, darling. Oh, my little darling," Miss O'Brien crooned. She shifted down. Leslie withdrew her fingers. They were covered with her love juices. Miss O'Brien took them to her lips. She smelled them. She stuck out her tongue. She licked the warm, juice-coated fingers, then sucked them into her mouth.
Leslie moaned. She was now rubbing her breasts, moaning and writhing, but when the felt Miss O'Brien's warm breath on her belly and then the touch of her mouth on her hot horny cunt, she screamed aloud. The noise echoed inside the sun-baked cabin dressing room.
"Oh!" Leslie screamed. "Oh, my God! It's crazy. It's crazy!!"
Now Miss O'Brien was sucking Leslie's tender cunt lips. She was kissing wildly, passionately. She would lick her tongue all over Leslie's trembling belly, then kiss her thighs, her fingers fondling and caressing Leslie's warm breasts. Then she would bury her face between the girl's open thighs and suck with all her strength.
Leslie was squirming all over the floor. She was moving across the wooden boards. Miss O'Brien, still on her belly, gripping Leslie's upthrust legs, was following her, her body now off the towel, her heavy breasts scraping across the rough wooden planks in the cabin.
In not too many more moments, Leslie's moans were turning into deep animal-like grunts. She was breathing through her open mouth. Her head was swaying from side to side. Her toes were wiggling. She was twisting and turning, almost as if she were trying to escape the furious tongue sucking.
"Oh, suck me. Oh, Miss… Miss O'Brien, your tongue! Oh, God… it's happening! Oh, now yes! Yes! Now, it's… oh golly!!"
So – that was the beginning.
And even as Leslie Groten lay quietly, Miss O'Brien's face was still close to her open pussy. She would breathe in Leslie's youthful odors. She would lick up over her belly. She would nibble on her delicious breasts. She would kiss her and when their tongues met for the first time, Miss O'Brien trembled.
The older woman loved kissing Leslie. She loved nursing on her nipples. She liked to run her wet tongue down her pretty legs. She adored kissing the young girl's little toes.
She would embrace her. She would hold her closely to her shivering naked body. She urged the younger girl to suck on her nipples as she did to her, to massage and rub her breasts together, to weigh them in her hands and then let them fall heavily before Leslie would grip one of her rubbery nipples between her teeth and chew on it as Miss O'Brien cried out for her to do.
Leslie would never forget that the sun was already sinking and there was a bright golden glow, a reflection in the quiet lake waters before they both put their bathing suits back on and took separate paths back to the camp.
And that evening, very late, was the first time that Leslie sneaked up into the treehouse and spent more delicious moments with her first female lover.
That entire summer was one of bliss and incredible happiness for young Leslie Groten.
And why all these memories were now flowing through Leslie Groten's thoughts was because of what her new friend Catherine had done to her only minutes ago.
She loved having her buttocks caressed, her skin licked, and especially her cute little asshole teased with the tip of a tongue.
It had been Miss O'Brien who had done it to her first – and it was to Miss O'Brien's twitching asshole and hungry hairy pussy that Leslie had first paid a kind of homage she associated with the imagined beauties of heaven itself.
Now it was Catherine's turn to have her asshole worshipped…