copyright: Lesley Tara, 2011

She looked so delightful in her pale pink satin bridesmaid’s dress, its tightly-fitted cut highlighting the budding curves of her slender sixteen-and-a-half year old body – her small pert breasts, her slim waist, her trim hips and her cute bubble-butt. Helen was a very pretty and attractive teenager even in her everyday jeans and T-shirts; in this classically-simple and elegantly-shaped sheath of satin, she looked absolutely eatable – and I had plans to do just that.

We two had been the maids of honour at the marriage of my sister, Samantha, to Helen’s brother, James. The bride and groom had met five years ago when attending the same university, and were now aged twenty-five. I am three years and seven months younger than Samantha, and a college student myself these days, but there is a much wider gap of more than eight years between Helen and James. There are no other siblings in either family, and so it was natural that my sister would ask Helen to act as a bridesmaid as well.

The ceremony at the church had been beautiful and everything went very smoothly, so Helen and I were feeling pleasurably satisfied and relieved. The whole party had come back to this large hotel for the wedding ‘breakfast’ – actually a large buffet lunch – and reception. This was now winding down: the speeches had been given, the toasts had been made, and the guests were now mingling in a hubbub of conversation, whilst the radiantly-happy new husband and wife circulated around the long function room. In the early evening there was to be a party, with a disco for the younger generation, but there would be an interval of a couple of hours before this, to let everyone digest the lunch and catch their breath, to allow the hotel staff to clear the room and set it up for dancing, and to give the bride and bridesmaids the opportunity to change their dresses. James and Helen’s family and many of their relatives and friends were staying at the hotel, and my parents – the hosts for the wedding – had also booked rooms for themselves, Samantha and me, so that we could change into and out of our wedding finery, and also stay overnight and not have to worry about driving home after the party.

Helen and I were standing side-by-side together in a quiet corner of the big room, with just the wall and a couple of potted palm trees behind us. We gazed at the throng and chatted inconsequentially in the way that you do with someone with whom you feel in tune, but don’t actually know very well – the town that the groom came from was nearly a hundred miles away from London, where I grew up, and so Helen and I had only met each other at the fittings for our bridesmaids outfits, for which she had come up by train on a series of Saturday afternoons.

I glanced down at her and smiled, with the advantages of being three inches taller, four bra sizes bigger and five years older. No one else was paying attention to us for a few moments, and this seemed like the best opportunity to set things in motion. I leaned closer to the pretty teenager and murmured in her ear:

‘Now that we are sisters-in-law, I really want to get to know you …’

I paused for a second, and traced a finger horizontally across her back at waist level. She gave a little gasp, and then a soft mewl of pleasure as I drew my fingernail back, this time lower down, just under the curve of her sweetly jutting buttocks (as I know well, this has a tantalisingly erogenous effect), whilst completing my sentence:

‘… intimately.’

Helen’s lips parted and I saw the tip of her tongue flick along to moisten them. She turned slightly to look up at me; for a second, she nibbled her lower lip with her teeth, looking suddenly even younger than her age, but what she saw in my warmly admiring gaze eradicated any lingering doubts. She gave me a radiantly beaming smile and slipped her hand into mine, giving it a confirming squeeze.

‘Oh, I would like that, Vicky – yes, I would like that very much!’ she whispered eagerly, her eyes bright and her face slightly flushed with excitement.

‘Well’, I said, ‘we need to change out of these bridesmaids dresses – why don’t we do that together, in my room, and then we can properly … get acquainted?’

Helen swallowed and nodded, her nervousness due not to any fear of what might happen in my bedroom, but rather a lingering residual doubt that it might not, that she might be misreading my signals – unsubtle though they had certainly become. Still holding her hand – for I had no intention of allowing anyone else an opportunity to cut in and carry off this deliciously wholesome teen – I towed her through the crowd to where my parents and hers were chatting amicably together.

‘Excuse me’, I interrupted politely; ‘Helen and I are going up now to get changed, and maybe take a bath before the party.’ I made the latter point quite deliberately, to account for us being gone for quite some time and to explain why we could not answer if anyone came knocking at our doors. Helen’s mother nodded approvingly, saying that she would take a rest herself in a few minutes; my mother enquired, rather vaguely, if we would need some help with removing our bridesmaids outfits. I hastened to reassure her:

‘Oh, no, don’t worry about that! If Helen brings a robe along to my room, we can manage fine together, and then she can go back to hers – it’s only three doors down – and have a soak in the bath or take a nap, whatever.’

Helen – the sweet thing – supported this by nodding vigorously (I don’t think she trusted herself to speak at this stage), and both sets of parents smiled benignly at us and waved us on our way – of course, with no idea of what I was intending that we could ‘manage fine together’, and that Helen seemed to be looking forward to so avidly. In fact, I had picked up a number of tell-tale signs during the fitting sessions for our bridesmaids costumes, and so my pass at Helen had not been much of a gamble – but it was still a relief to have had my suppositions so positively confirmed.

We trotted up the hotel staircase, lifting the hems of our long satin dresses as if we had stepped out of a Jane Austen novel, and almost ran along the first-floor corridor to my bedroom. Once inside, I quickly hung the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside handle, and then closed the door and put the deadbolt on from the inside. I turned back towards Helen, who was standing in the middle of the room, gazing at the double-bed (this was one of the larger rooms); she was in profile to me, and I admired again her trim slender youthful silhouette, such a contrast to my own full swell of breasts and hips.

As I came up behind her, she turned to face me and almost naturally came into my arms, so that my heavier E-cup breasts rested upon the top of her chest. She looked up at me in silent question, and we both saw the desire in each other’s eyes. Her lips were already parted and her eyes half-closed as I brought my mouth down to hers and kissed her – slowly at first, and then with a fierce passion which she matched with a hunger of her own. So the last threshold was crossed, for such a kiss could not be dismissed as ‘sisterly’ affection – it was unmistakeable sexual lust. My hands slipped down her back, cupping and then kneading her adorable ass; after only a few seconds pause, she did the same to me. Although she was less assertive, I could sense the pleasure with which she stroked my bottom, whilst her nipples hardened into rigid prominent pinnacles which I could feel pressing into my softness through the thin satin of her bridesmaid’s dress.

After a heady minute or two, I drew back and gazed at the teenager, and told her with simple candour:

‘I want you … you’re so pretty, I just want you so much!’

My directness was all the more arousing for the innocent teen, and she breathed softly in reply:

‘Oh! … please, yes … please, Vicky, I think you’re wonderful … oh, I want you too!’

The signs had been there at the fitting sessions in the wedding-dress designer’s shop, in fact I had started to notice them from the first one. I know that I am an attractive young woman, with my tumbling chestnut hair and deep hazel eyes with long lashes. I have an even fuller figure than my sister, despite being younger, and my most striking feature is undoubtedly my breasts – high, firm mounds of femininity which fill my 32E bras and leave a deep cleavage. The flare of my hips and sway of my ass gives them counterpoint, and with a fairly narrow waist I have something of an hour-glass profile. When I arrived at the first fitting session, interested to meet my future sister-in-law and companion maid-of-honour, I had deliberately worn a jersey wrap dress which draws the eye to my breasts and accentuates my bust and cleavage; it then falls to a pleated skirt which swirls around my knees, with an opening that parts to show an expanse of leg with every step that I take. I had wanted to make a strong impression, and Helen’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened in admiration when I first swept into the room and gathered her up for a hug as introduction. My feeling that there might be the potential here for something more than friendship began from noticing the way that she glanced at me sidelong when she thought my attention was engaged elsewhere, and the look on her face as her eyes lingered on my breasts and ass. This became even more noticeable when I disrobed, and without being obvious about it I made sure that I did so in ways that gave her plenty of eyefuls.

For the second fitting session, I arrived in one of my trademark outfits – one which has pulled both pretty babes and experienced older women in the lesbian clubs and bars of the city where I am studying at university. It is a combination of smart black boots with stiletto heels, black hold-up stockings, a tight and very short black leather mini-skirt, and a figure-hugging lambswool cowl-neck sweater in bright red, cinched tight around the waist with a wide shiny-plastic black belt. The belt gives the thrust of my bust even more striking visual impact, whilst the sweater is so thin and snug-fitting that every outline of my underwired half-cup bra can be seen – a push-up, though my firm breasts hardly need any extra lift.

Helen was simply saucer-eyed, and looked bowled over by my confident and stylish sexy outfit. I had deliberately delayed my arrival, and was rewarded by the sight of her standing on the small fitting stool in only her bra and panties – both sweetly demure and plain in a light blue that went so well with her clear skin and long blonde hair. The designer slipped a pinned-together early version of the dress over Helen, and she stood as still as a statue whilst the measurements and adjustments were made – but I knew that her eyes were tracking my every move. I kept where she could see me easily, and slowly undressed – taking some time to fold each garment and put it on a chair, so that she could see plenty. First to be removed were the belt and the sweater, and I turned casually so that she had good views of my breasts and bra – the latter being a skimpy concoction of black gauze and lace – from several angles. Next went the skirt, and I know that I look magnificent in black boots, hold ups and scanty lingerie – in the silence, I could hear Helen’s shaky indrawn breath, and I could almost smell the dampening of her panties in a room which seemed suddenly much warmer. I pulled off my boots, and then turned my back to her – affording her a splendid view of my ass – whilst I rolled my stockings down my legs. Finally, I turned almost to face her and undid my bra from behind, pulling it aside and stretching luxuriously – both revealing my naked breasts and making them thrust and jiggle enticingly – whilst I made some comment about it being hot and sticky in here, and how glad I was to remove it. When I quickly glanced at Helen, her face wore a stunned expression and she looked pale, almost as if she might faint. To steady herself, she rested one hand for a moment on the shoulder of the dress designer – a pleasant middle-aged woman who was kneeling at Helen’s feet, intent on adjusting the drape of the hem, and who with her back towards me had missed my little strip-tease performance.

The bride and bridesmaids dresses – like so many in this summer of 2011 – were influenced by the Royal Wedding not long before. Of course, they were not simply copies – but they followed the newly-fashionable style by having a narrow waist and sweeping wide skirt for the bride, and plain and figure-hugging floor-length pencil dresses for the bridesmaids. I was all in favour of this – like any hot-blooded lesbian, my enduring memory from the television coverage of the wedding was not of Prince William or even the lovely Kate Middleton, but of her athletic younger sister Pippa’s stunning ass in her gorgeously sexy slimline maid-of-honour dress.

In fact, the dresses for Helen and myself were going to be so closely fitted that we were not to wear our ordinary bras underneath; instead, to support our breasts, each of our dresses would have soft cloth cups of the appropriate volume sewn inside the bust. A delightful consequence of this was that we spent much of the fitting sessions dressed only in our panties, and I sneaked almost as many glances at Helen’s small pointy tits as I saw her giving my swaying ripe mounds. During that second session, when it was my turn to stand on the stool for fitting and measuring, I could see from the corner of my eye that Helen was leaning against the wall to my left, gazing almost hypnotised at my tits and ass. When I turned more away from her, she did not realise that I could still see her reflection in a nearby full-length mirror, and my breath caught in delight as I saw her cup and pinch her own small breasts, and then she slipped one hand down inside the front of her panties and was clearly giving her pussy a vigorous rub.

I was sure from this point that Helen fancied girls, and some instinct convinced me that she was – as I am – purely and entirely lesbian, rather than bisexual. However, I also doubted that she had yet had any actual sexual experience; I was certain that she would not want to do it with a boy, and it was most likely that she would be too scared and nervous of coming on to any of her female friends – the risks would be too great. She was only sixteen-and-a-half years old, and so almost certainly a virgin – unless, of course, an older woman (such as a school teacher, sports coach or Girl Guide leader) had seduced her, as she was more than pretty enough to be tempting. However, I thought that this had not yet happened, as her manner radiated the naive eagerness of the inexperienced.

It was after this second fitting that I began to think of seducing Helen at the wedding, and taking her cherry myself. After all, it was only right and proper that there should be a loss of virginity on a wedding day, and my resolutely heterosexual sister Samantha could not fit that bill, as she and James had been fucking like bunnies ever since they started going out together.

The third and final fitting was also a final confirmation of Helen’s growing interest in me – in fact, in addition to her awareness of my physical charms (my breasts being a particularly magnetic focus), it was clear that she was developing quite a crush on me, chattering away and eagerly agreeing with any comment that I made. At one point, when the designer briefly left the fitting room to take a phone call, and Helen and I were naked apart from our panties (mine this time being a sketchy thong in burgundy red), I managed to contrive an opportunity to remove mine. I forget the reason that I gave, but I turned my back to Helen in apparent modesty, and bent from the waist only, keeping my legs straight, as I rolled the panties down from my thighs to my ankles. I knew that she could see my asshole, the swell of my completely-shaven pussy mound and the base of my slit – with my labia visibly puffy and parted. I heard her give a sigh of desire, and a quick glance at the mirror (once again, she was so intently focused on me that she had not realised she was visible in it) showed me a glorious sight of sapphic apprenticeship – Helen had thrust her hand so hard into her panties that they were pushed down three or four inches, and I could see that her fingers were frantically frotting along her gash. When I slowly straightened and turned – giving her a full view of my cunt from the front – she had had time to straighten her panties and remove her hand, but my eagle eye noted the giveaway dark damp patch at her crotch. Seconds later, Helen excused herself to visit the en suite bathroom, and as the designer had not returned, I swiftly crossed the room and put my ear to the toilet door. My reward was to hear the moans of a girl fingering herself to a rapid climax, and when she came – to my delight – it sounded like she was saying my name, over and over.

Some time after the wedding, Helen told me that she had begun to suspect that I might be a lesbian after the second fitting session, and had wondered if the eyefuls of my tits and cunt which I had afforded her both then and at the third session were a come-on – but, because she wanted so much for that to be the case, she was afraid that she was reading too much into it. It had only been when I touched her ass at the wedding reception that she had been really sure, and she had almost swooned with excitement when I suggested that we go together to my room.

So now, here in my bedroom at the wedding hotel, we reached the consummation that we both devoutly wished for. After breaking our clinch, I reached up to unpin her hair, which had been piled up in an elegant arrangement for the wedding ceremony. Helen has lovely blonde hair, long and straight, which I knew from the fitting sessions she normally kept in a pony tail, sometimes just loosely gathered and sometimes plaited – either way, she looked such a pretty picture of a wholesome schoolgirl. She stood silently, savouring my proximity and the thrilling knowledge that much more was to come, whilst I carefully removed the comb and pins which were holding her coiffure in place. Released, her hair spilled down over her shoulders in a wave, and I ran my hands through its silky fineness.

My next move was to turn Helen gently around so that she was facing away from me, and then with a single slow pull I drew the zip of her bridesmaids dress down from the back of her neck to the base of her spine. It gaped open, but remained hanging from her shoulders until I stepped right up behind her – my breasts pushing against her back – and brought my hands around to the front of her dress. I cupped her small breasts through the soft satin material, and she stiffened for a moment before relaxing against me and letting the erotic sensations carry her away.

After squeezing Helen’s tits through her dress, I eased it from her shoulders and it fell quite neatly down to her ankles. As we were not wearing bras beneath the wedding outfits, this at once afforded me full access to her perky little A-cup breasts and their hard pointy nipples – which I began to tweak and tease, so heightening her pleasure. I kissed the back and sides of her neck, and then in a whisper asked her to undress me as well. Helen hastened eagerly to comply, and with slightly shaking hands she undid the zip of my satin sheath dress and slowly lowered it down over my hips. I smiled at her as I stepped out of it, and quickly hung it up in the wardrobe. Now, we were both reduced to just our panties and the plain white girlish knee-highs which we had worn under the long bridesmaids gowns.

Helen reached forwards to cradle my heavy breasts, an expression of wonder on her face as she felt their human warmth and soft resilience. She looked as if she could not quite believe that this was really happening, as if this was a dream come true – as indeed it was, for later she told me that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about me from when we met at the first fitting session and I had stripped off in front of her; since then, she had masturbated almost every night whilst fantasising that I was making love to her. This had confirmed the erotic thoughts she had already been having for more than a year about some of her school friends and teachers, and she had come to realise and then happily to accept that she was almost certainly a lesbian.

‘Oh, Vicky!’ she exclaimed, ‘you’re so gorgeous, so beautiful!’

I smiled and said nothing, for I intended that actions should speak louder than words. I took a gentle grip of Helen’s upper arms and steered her backwards to the large king-size bed. She got the idea at once, and when the backs of her calves encountered the side of the bed, she quickly scrambled onto the mattress, sitting up and waiting for me to join her. Her posture and body language perfectly fitted the old expression of being ‘bright-eyed and bushy-tailed’. However, although she seemed keen enough, I wanted to take things slowly and carefully, lest this spirited filly should panic and refuse the fences ahead of her.

I joined Helen on the bed, easing her down onto her back and then lying down alongside her. I began with gentle kisses, just brushing my lips against hers and not trying to get my tongue into her mouth. She stirred with pleasure, her warm body pressing against my breasts and stomach, and I was delighted when she almost immediately opened her mouth to me, whilst her own tongue ventured between my lips. I replied with firmer and more passionate kissing, and soon our tongues were entwined in a tangle of saliva.

My next move was to slip one hand across to her left breast, which was on the side furthest away from me. I began by tracing my finger around its circumference, trailing one fingernail tantalisingly over her smooth pink skin. The nipple of her breast became visibly even more stiff and prominent as I did so, and she mumbled something incoherent but encouraging into my mouth. I let my fingers brush across her tit, and she broke our kiss to give a little squeal – followed by another cry as I took a firmer hold of her breast, cupping the palm of my hand over it, and simultaneously compressing and massaging it.

‘Aaah, yes!’ she gasped, ‘oh, Vicky … yes, do that to me more, do it more!’

I smiled down at her, and hunkered a little further down the bed so that I could bring my mouth to her right breast, whilst still continuing my groping and fondling of her left one. When my wet lips closed over the nipple of her right breast, I simultaneously tweaked her left one. Helen’s head jerked sideways from the sudden erotic stimulus, and she started to moan in arousal. From blind instinct, her hips twitched and her knees swung wide open.

This was, quite literally, the opening that I had been waiting for. Still kissing and sucking on her right breast, I removed my hand from her left one and slid it slowly and inexorably down the centre of her body. My deliberation was quite deliberate – I wanted her to realise where that hand was travelling to, so that when it reached its destination of her cunt, she would be already turned on and hyper-sensitised to anything that I might do. Sure enough, as my hand moved down past her tummy button, she began to pant for breath and she arched her legs even further apart.

Helen gave a high-pitched gasp and a shudder of excitement ran through her slender frame, as my questing hand reached the crotch of her panties and I cupped the fleshy protuberance of her Venus mound in my palm. I could feel that the gusset of her sweet girlish pale-blue panties was already damp – indeed, almost sodden – and she whimpered as I rubbed the wet material along the visible contours of her slit, abrading her labial lips.

‘Take them off! Take them off and fuck me, Vicky!’ she gasped, ‘please – strip me, fuck me – don’t wait, ooohh – please, now!!’

Despite this, I took my time – I didn’t want Helen to climax too soon, so I eased back a bit, and she drew some deep breaths as I very gently stroked the fabric of her panties around – but not directly on – her pussy. I also stopped my oral attentions to her breast, and rose up slightly to gaze down at her slim teenage body. Helen was lying almost still, her face wearing a look of astonished revelation which telegraphed her thoughts: ‘I expected it to be good – but I never dreamed it would be THIS good!’

I gave her a reassuring smile and a kiss, and then hooked my fingers into the elastic waistband of her panties at either hip, and gently tugged them downwards. She had to bring her legs back together so that I could remove the panties, but as soon as that was done she swung them wide open again – almost as if there was such a hot furnace raging between her thighs that she could not bear for them to be together. Now she was completely naked apart from the white knee-highs that we were both wearing, and their presence only served to heighten the impact of her nudity from the knees upwards – she looked so young, so sweet, so innocent and so utterly fucking fuckable.

I savoured the moment that my fingers first touched her bare cunt, and she gave a moaning sigh as I explored her folds and valleys. She was not too hairy – not shaven, of course, but it seemed that she kept her pubic hair closely trimmed with scissors, and this fact and its fine blonde composition meant that nothing of her genitalia was hidden or obscured. She gave a pretty mewling sound – very appropriately – as my fingertips began to slide between her labia and tease along her pussy. However, she made no protest over this invasion, and I tugged her opening a little further apart, curling the end of my index finger into her vaginal slit and sliding it around.

My probing finger soon encountered an obstruction – as I had suspected and hoped, her hymen was still intact. I withdrew my digit, despite Helen’s soft whimpering imprecations for me to continue, and indeed to be harder and firmer.

‘You’ve still got your virginity, my sweet angel’, I told her; ‘I’d better not go any further, I might tear or break it.’

Helen’s frustration at the possibility that the cup of lesbian love might be dashed from her lips was palpable and almost comic. She was also exactly where I wanted her to be – panting with desire, aching for release, and desperately in need of fucking. The words came gushing out:

‘Oh, God, yes!! Vicky, do – I want you to, really, honestly, I do! You’re the one for me, you be my first, please – so take it, take me – oh, please fuck me, please do!’

‘Helen – are you sure, your virginity?’ I queried, putting a doubtful note in my voice and successfully smothering my jubilant satisfaction, for of course her plea was music to my ears.

‘Yes, YES!!’ she almost shouted, and then she raised herself up on one elbow, looked at me squarely, and said more calmly: ‘Really, truly, I’m quite sure, Vicky – oh, there couldn’t be anyone more wonderful than you to be my first! I would love that so much, I really would! Please take me, Vicky, please, I promise that I won’t ever complain – I know that I won’t, because I want you so much!’

I smiled at her, nodded my assent, and told her to wait for just a moment. I rose from the bed, crossed over to my suitcase and removed an item from it, and then disappeared into the bathroom for a few seconds. I returned with one of the two hand-towels which the hotel had automatically provided for this double-room, getting a slightly puzzled look from Helen which cleared when I reminded her that there was likely to be a small show of blood when her membrane was ruptured, and I didn’t want it to get onto the sheet, where it might arouse questions or gossip. Helen had had the sex education lessons at school and so knew the mechanics (in theory, not in practice, of course!), and she understood my precaution, lifting her butt a couple of inches off the mattress so that I could slide the towel beneath her.

Through most of this preparation, her eyes had been focused not on the towel, but on the object in my other hand – the item which I had taken from my suitcase. She knew what it was, although she had never seen one before in reality: a vibrator. I had not brought any of my largest ones with me, for I was afraid that they might frighten her away, so this was a simple design of a modest size, but it was very effective. It was not made to appear like a male penis – I don’t like that type, and I also thought that such a one might be rather repulsive to Helen as well, innocent that she was. This vibrator was a column of jet black plastic, smooth-sided and unadorned, six inches in length and with a rounded knob at the end.

Helen swallowed a little nervously, as I switched on the vibrator and then brought the humming tip up to her pussy lips. At first, I just ran it up and down her cleft – not pressing to enter her at all, but letting the pulsing of the little machine act as a tantalising massage to her erogenous zones. I could see that this was having the desired effect, as a sweat broke out on her face and chest, and with an expression of fixed intensity her teeth almost bit down on her lower lip.

Now she was ready for the next phase, and I used the fingers of my free hand gently to press apart her inner labia, opening the way for the rounded end of the vibrator to slide for about a centimetre into the start of her hole. Helen gave a little moan, and I could feel her body trembling in anticipation beneath my touch – due just a little to nerves, but much more to fervent desire. I let the vibrator rest here for a few seconds, its throbbing doing the work of setting her juices flowing, and then I moved it slowly up her slit, her gasps becoming both higher in pitch and more frequent as the shaking tip neared it target – her clitoris.

Helen’s mouth opened and her eyes widened, as for the first time I pressed the vibrator more firmly against her, and this transmitted its pulsing rhythm directly to her clit, with powerfully erotic effect. The sweet teen began to mumble and gasp, almost incoherently, as the waves of pleasure rippled through her lithe body:

‘Aaahh! Oh, OH! … oh, Vicky! Oh, mmm, aaah, yes! Oooaah! Ohmigod, I’m yours, Vicky, please – take me! Aaah, Vicky, yes – oh! OH!! Yes, yes, please … mmm … now, YES, NOW!!’

Helen had propped herself up on her elbows, not wanting to miss a second of her deflowering, but now she was shaking and almost on the point of fainting. I didn’t want her to lose her grip completely, so I gave her clitoris a respite and brought the vibrator back down her valley – which was now wide apart, the hot pink inner flesh wetly glistening – and I let the throbbing tip press against her hymen. It had the effect of vibrating her membrane as it were the skin of a snare drum, and the cute teenager gave a wild high-pitched cry:

‘YES, YES! NOW, VICKY – NOW! FUCK ME! FUCK ME, PLEASE!! FUCK ME NOW!!’

She was loud enough that I feared for a moment that anyone walking past in the corridor outside (like her mother!!) might hear, and so I quickly covered her mouth with my free hand to muffle her shrieks – and I noted for future interest that my dominance of her in this way seemed to excite her even more. I looked down at her, my full breasts swinging like a pendulum in front of her face. Helen’s eyes were riveted on mine, as without any further delay I thrust the vibrator firmly into and straight through her hymen. The teen winced for a second at the resulting short sharp jab of pain, and then her eyes widened in surprise and appreciation as the humming head of the vibrator pushed further into her, opening up what had never been entered before, and sending waves of electric excitement radiating through her.

Now we were in a new wonderland, as nerve-endings in her body that had never been stimulated before pulsed with erotic charge, making her breathing alternate between a pant and a gasp. Helen stared down between her widespread legs, watching in wonder as I pushed the vibrator further and further into her. Two inches had disappeared at first, followed by a third, and now a fourth – eliciting from the young girl a sudden shaken groan, as her hips started, instinctively and almost of their own volition, to thrust back against the hard presence which had penetrated her. Helen began to whimper, and her hips rose off the bed sheet as a fifth inch of the vibrator wormed its way into her vagina, and her back began to arch as her climax built. I was meeting some resistance now and I did not want to hurt her, so this was as far as I dared go – but I admired the girl, for I had not been able to take so much length when I had lost my cherry to a strap-on.

I began to draw the vibrator backwards and forwards for a couple of inches – slowly at first, but as her vagina got used to this intruding presence, she became looser and wetter, and I was able to increase the pace. Helen’s eyes were almost bugging out – I still had my other hand clamped over her mouth, and she stared at me from above my fingers, her shuddering moans muffled and her saliva dribbling down below my palm and from her chin. I shifted my right hand slightly to get a better angle with the vibrator, and I knew that now was the time to ride the hot little teen right over the fence.

Drawing the sweetly humming vibrator back until only perhaps an inch was still inside her, I paused for two or three heartbeats – to make sure that I had her attention, and because I know how powerfully stimulating a hiatus like that can be when it is just on the cusp of an orgasm. I removed my hand from her face and replaced it with my mouth, kissing her devouringly, whilst at the same time I repeatedly rammed the vibrator fully into her and then out again, hard and fast.

My changed position allowed me to press my own cunt against Helen’s right thigh, just above her knee, for I was getting so turned on by what I was doing to the pretty blonde bridesmaid that I ached for release myself. The girl’s body thrashed beneath mine in utter abandon, and her climax was so tumultuous that it transmitted directly from her trembling thigh to my pussy with pile-driving effect, and I shuddered on top of her, with my cum-juice squirting out to coat her leg. Helen flopped backwards, her head lolling on the bed, and the most wonderful look of stunned revelation appeared on her face.

‘Oh, wow! Wowie-zowie-wow!’ she whispered in delight, ‘Oh, Vicky – oh, that was just amazing – just incredible! Thank you, thank you so much, for ever and ever and ever!’

‘Babe’, I said, as I leaned over to kiss each of her little pinnacles of breasts, ‘that was my pleasure – and I mean that most literally!’

She laughed, and then we lay together on the wide soft mattress, companionably side-by-side. However, the girl was just so cute that I couldn’t leave it long before touching her again, and after only a few minutes I reached across to massage gently her tight little teenage pussy. Helen was still at first, breathing quietly, and I enjoyed the sight of the rising and falling of her youthful chest with its small bumps of pubescent breasts. She was clearly more than contented, and watched me closely with a sweet and slightly shy smile accentuating the pink flush of her cheeks. After a while, she began to move her hips in response to my caresses of her cunt, and her breathing became a little louder, faster and more ragged.

I would have been content to use my hand to ease her up gradually to a second orgasm, but Helen was starting to get ideas of her own. Suddenly, she sat up and with a merry laugh rolled me over onto my back, her slim form quite light as she lay on top of me, her hard little nipples pressing into the soft pillow of my bust. With bright happy shining eyes, she thanked me for having taken her virginity and for being her first lesbian lover, and then she kissed me – first on my mouth, but then with a cute wriggle she nestled lower, and took one of my breasts into her mouth.

‘Aaah, yes … oh, my sweet angel, that’s lovely’, I murmured, running my fingers through her long blonde hair and luxuriating in the attentions that her lips and tongue were giving to my stiffly erect nipples. With this encouragement, she became more passionate and vigorous, sucking hard on the tit that was in her mouth whilst massaging the other breast with her hand, and clearly relishing the effect that she was having on me, as I gasped and thrust my breasts up higher towards her.

Then her hand snaked down lower, questing between my legs, and with a sigh of pleasure I spread my thighs apart to give her full access to my cunt. She slid her hand inside my panties, which I had carefully chosen – they were one of my favourite ‘temptress’ pairs, a low-rise string in bright crimson, edged with lace around the waist and legs. I often wear these when I cruise the lesbian bars (that is, if I wear any panties at all under my micro mini-skirts, for there’s nothing like giving glimpses of bare pussy for riveting the attention of whoever you want to pull – the younger women especially!). For a little while, Helen stroked me there – her first touch of a woman’s sex – and then, with a mischievous smile, she released my achingly-aroused breast from her mouth and squirmed further down the bed.

I eased my hips upwards in an obvious invitation, and the pretty teen at once pulled my panties down my legs and over my feet. I parted my legs again – not too much, but enough to give her a clear view of my exposed cunt. Helen gazed in fascination at my shaven pudenda, which were glistening with my juices and invitingly parted. Her fingers began to explore the folds of my labia and the hot pink valley of my slit – she was tentative at first, but then, trembling with excitement and desire, she became more venturesome and slid her finger into me, initially up to the second joint and then sinking it in right to her knuckle. The sensation of being fingered by this sweet lithe young teenager was incredibly arousing; I looked at her through half-closed eyes, and begged:

‘Sweet angel, make me come … oh, please, make me come, make me come for you!’

This last suggestion thrilled Helen to the core – the very idea that she had such power over my body, that an adult woman was in her hands and beseeching to be fucked, made her bolder still. Her tongue wetted her lips, and then she brought her face down onto my cunt and fastened her sweet teenage mouth around my pussy, and like a puppy she began eagerly to lap and lick up and down my gaping vagina.

I writhed and moaned in rising ecstasy, as her hot little tongue delved into me and she avidly sucked up my coursing pussy-juices. It wasn’t that she was expert – quite the contrary, it was the very novice nature of her efforts, together with her enthusiasm and evident pleasure in her task, which made it such a thrill. It was truly mind-blowing to realise that I had between my legs a sixteen-year-old newly-minted lesbian who was tasting the pleasure of female cunnilingus for the very first time!

It did not take long for her bring me off, and with a broken cry my back arched, my hips jerked in spasms, and I clasped the back of her head with both my hands, driving her mouth against my quivering cunt.

‘Aaaaahhh! Oh, Helen, my angel! Fuck me, Helen, fuck me … ohmigod, I’m gonna come for you babe, I’m cumming for you … aaah, yes, for you!’ I sobbed, as one of the most powerful climaxes I have ever known exploded simultaneously in my cunt and in my head, making me nearly pass out and leaving me dishevelled, panting for breath and gloriously fulfilled.

We were both sweaty and sticky from our lovemaking, and we decided that sharing a bath together would be the nicest way to get clean and fresh – and fresh with each other. We ran the water in the large bath in my bedroom’s private en suite facilities, adding lashing of lavender-scented bubble-bath to make mountains of sweet smelling foam on the surface of the steaming hot water. We stripped off our knee-highs, and I stepped in first, settling down in the gloriously hot and scented water. Then Helen climbed in to sit between my legs, and I washed her long blonde hair and massaged her lissom back, which she loved. She leant back against me, resting her shoulder-blades against the support of my bust, as I reached round to her front and soaped her chest. The teenager giggled in delight as I scooped handfuls of bubbles onto her breasts and watched them slowly slide back down into the water again. I then continued playfully to stroke and tweak her tits, until she began to squirm in the bath and thrust a hand between her legs, rubbing at her own pussy. However, instead of bringing herself off, she turned round and settled again facing me, our legs intermingled under the water, and she repaid me with similar attentions to my own glistening breasts, until I thought that I would come in the warm water myself.

I paused her before it went that far, taking her hands and kissing them, and then pulling her to her feet and stepping out of the bath. We each picked up one of the hotel’s huge soft white Egyptian cotton towels, and by mutual sapphic instinct began to dry each other’s bodies. My soft gentle strokes aroused her so much that I took her back to the bed, spread her legs wide apart, and ate out her cunt – returning her earlier favour until she had a similarly back-arching climax.

Without a second’s pause, I rolled her over onto her stomach and paid worship to her lovely jutting ass, parting her butt-cheeks with my fingers and probing into her tight little pussy from behind, whilst my teeth nipped playfully at the base of her trim teenage butt and my tongue rimmed around her delicate flower of an asshole. She luxuriated in these attentions, glowing with pride and pleasure as I said in a muffled voice (my mouth being pressed right into her anus) how beautiful her bubble-butt was and that it was her pert ass that turned me on the most about her, and I admitted that after our fitting sessions I had had to go home and fuck myself really hard with my vibrator whilst I imagined doing just this to her naked bottom.

This was enough to bring us both off again – Helen with shudders of delight as my thrusting fingers and probing tongue made her climax, whilst I could not contain myself and grunted with lust as, bending over the cute teenager’s slender form, I ground my cunt against the hard rim of a corner of the mattress until the friction on my clit made me come.

It was then time to get dressed for the dancing, which took longer than usual as we both spent time helping the other into her lingerie and dress – accompanied by many caresses and sweet little kisses. We were a bit late for the start of the party when we went downstairs, but no one noticed, and if we looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in our pretty dancing frocks, it was naturally attributed to the excitements of the wedding day.

Before we left my bedroom, I told Helen that if she wanted to, she could slip back to it later, after everyone had gone to bed, and spend the night with me – returning to her own bedroom before people began to wake for breakfast. She was so pleased, and kissed me fervently as she assured me that she would like nothing better in the whole world.

The party was fun, and we had to be careful not to give away our attraction to each other as we whirled on the dance floor – making sure of dancing with several other people, but without giving any young men the encouragement to take things further. Fortunately, this was not really a problem – of course, it is almost traditional at weddings for the best man to try and seduce one of the bridesmaids, but on this occasion James’s best man had got married himself only a few weeks before, and clearly had eyes only for his lovely wife. Most of the other under-30s at the wedding were university friends or work colleagues of the bride and groom, and nearly all of them came in couples; enjoying the event as a kind of reunion, they partied together as a group and barely gave a glance in the direction of Helen or myself.

The result was that it did not seem odd that we were companions together for most of the party, fetching each other soft drinks (Helen, of course, was too young for alcohol, and between the thirst from dancing and my greater thirst for the pleasures of the night still to come – and come, and come, I hoped! – I did not want to dull any of my faculties, so we stuck to cola and orange juice). Just once we could not resist an opportunity to slip into a little alcove at the end of the room which was screened by some greenery, and she quickly kissed me whilst I thrust my hand under her short and skimpy black A-line dress, deftly twisting my finger past the gusset of her panties and giving her cunt a few quick rubs. Helen clung to me tightly, giggling and keeping a lookout over my shoulder in case anyone should come into our little bower.

At one point, when leaving the dance floor together after bopping to a fast number, we encountered Helen’s mother, who smiled sweetly at me and said:

‘Victoria, my dear – it’s so nice of you to take care of Helen, we really appreciate it and I’m sure she’s having fun … she looks so happy today, isn’t that lovely?’

I assured Helen’s mother that it was no trouble at all (which it certainly wasn’t), whilst thinking that if she knew quite how I was taking care of her daughter, and quite why Helen was looking so glowing, she would be a lot less pleased about it!

We made our excuses and left the party around midnight, saying that the excitement of the day was catching up with us and we were getting tired. Helen hardly had to act this, for she was yawning away at the end of a day that had been more thrilling and momentous for her than any of her family could have guessed. We parted briefly in the corridor outside my bedroom door, and I whispered to her that it would be unlocked so that when she came back she could slip quickly inside. Her tiredness seemed to evaporate with the marvellous instantly-renewable energy of youth, and she eagerly told me that she would return in ten or fifteen minutes, as soon as she had changed out of her clothes and freshened up. There was no one in the corridor, so I gave her a quick kiss, told her to hurry, and then playfully goosed her ass as she squealed and ran away down the corridor to her own room, almost skipping with delight.

I had just enough time to make my own preparations, and had been lying in bed for less than five minutes, with the light turned down low, when the door eased quietly open and the pretty blonde teen tiptoed into my room. She was barefoot, and wearing a long silky wrap that was well-chosen for both its slim cut and its dark blue colour, which offset her pale skin and long golden hair. Helen took four or five silent steps to the side of my bed, and then tugged open the cord of her wrap to reveal that she was completely nude underneath it. With a graceful shrug of her shoulders, the thin garment sighed to the floor behind her, and for a moment I gazed up in admiration at the slim feminine form before me. Her small A-cup breasts were accentuated by the prominent arousal of her nipples, and the subdued light from the lamp beside the bed sent enticing shadows across the magical curves of her stomach and her taut butt.

I smiled up at her lazily from where I lay in the bed on my side, the white sheet draped over me up to my chest in apparent modesty.

‘I’ve got a surprise for you, my angel’, I whispered, and then I drew the sheet aside and enjoyed the astonishment on the teen’s face. Her eyes went wide and her mouth opened to form a silent O as she gazed down at me. I was wearing a strap-on plastic dildo, which I had brought with me in the hope that such a moment might arise – it was by no means the largest in my collection, for after all this was a sixteen-year-old girl having her first full-on fucks, and it was only six inches long and an inch in diameter, but no doubt to Helen it must have seemed gigantic. To set it off, as I have found that wearing some garments with it has an even more sexy effect, my legs were encased in black fishnet hold-ups with a lacy elastic top, and my breasts were displayed in an underwired black plunge bra. I had checked myself out in the full-length mirror a few minutes earlier, before getting into bed and waiting for my pretty visitor, and I knew that I looked really sensual and sexual, with my breasts prominently thrusting outwards and my ripe ass showcased by the straps of the dildo harness running round my waist and down between my buttocks.

Helen seemed almost in awe of the dildo, and reached out tentatively to touch it and feel its smooth shiny surface and hard resilience. She gulped a little nervously at the prospect of taking that length inside herself (having no idea yet of how extensive the capacity of the female body can be), and her eyes were riveted on the plastic rod as I rose from the bed and it swung round towards her like a missile tracking for its target – which was definitely codename cunt. I drew her close to me, which inevitably had the effect of pressing the outthrust plastic rod against the girl’s pussy, and she gave a shudder and a deep throaty groan of desire when it rubbed against her Venus mound.

‘Don’t worry, honey’, I murmured softly in her ear, stroking her long blonde hair, ‘we’ll take it slow and easy, and with plenty of lube in case you’re still a bit sore … that is, if you want this? If you don’t, just say – I won’t mind’, I added, not at all truthfully, for I would have been terribly disappointed if she had declined, but of course I would have accepted it and did not want to push her further than she wanted to go.

I need not have worried – this was one hot pussy-lover in the making, there was no doubt about it. Helen drew a breath, and then assured me in a firm voice that she would love me to take her that way, that she had heard of such things and had tried to imagine what it would be like, but she had never dreamed of finding out for real so soon!

I pulled the sheet off the bed, and then positioned the two flat pillows on top of each other, about one-third of the way down from the headboard. I told Helen to get on the bed on all fours, and then to lower her arms so that her chest rested on the pillows for support, whilst her ass was left sticking up in the air behind her. My God, did she ever look inviting in that pose, and I paused for a second to admire her slender sixteen-year-old frame, with her boyish hips and trim thighs, and her perky little butt offered up for my delight.

I climbed carefully onto the bed behind her, and then used my hands to ease her knees wider apart, so that her pudenda were fully exposed. We had all night ahead of us – I don’t think either of us was expecting, or caring about, getting much in the way of sleep! – and so there was plenty of time for sensuous foreplay. I traced my fingers down her back from her collar-bones, round and over and under her ass, giving little flicking touches to the crevasse between her ass-cheeks and her vagina, which was already parting and oozing with moisture. Next, I ran my hands up her legs, quite gently from her ankles to her knees, and then with a firmer, kneading massage up her inner thighs, until the edges of my hands encounter her pussy and I rubbed them forcefully down her labia.

By this time, Helen’s breathing was coming in little shallow pants, and her back gleamed with a sheen of sweat that was the product of her heightened state and not the temperature of the air-conditioned room, which was mildly pleasant. Her eyes were closed so that she could all the better soak up the sensations from my caresses of her body, and her face wore a beatific smile.

I paused briefly to pick up the tube of lubricant jelly from the bedside table, and smeared a generous amount over the full length of the dildo – and the bit that remained I rubbed onto her labia. Then, savouring every second, I moved up closer to her ass and positioned myself so that the end of the dildo was brushing against the curved base of her pussy. Then I nudged it forwards, and she gave a plaintive moan as just a centimetre of the tip slipped into and out of her vagina, teasing her with its potential for penetration.

It’s true, the young have no patience – after barely 30 seconds of such erogenous stimulus, she began to thrust her pelvis back against the plastic rod, making it enter her further, whilst begging me in a nearly incoherent whisper to take her, fuck her, do her. This was all the green light that I needed, and she gasped as I gripped her firmly with both my hands, holding her just above her hips. I was hot and ready to have this babe in my favourite way – shafting her cunt from behind with a strap-on, doggy-style.

‘Ooooo-ahh! Oh, Vicky, fuck me! Vicky – aaah! fuckme-fuckme-fuckme!! she whimpered, as I slid first one inch of it into her, then two and then three. I was taking it carefully and slowly, and that was far enough for the first insertion – which, encouragingly, had been easier than I had expected. I eased my weight backwards and drew the dildo completely out of her. She gave a strange kind of shudder as it exited completely from her hole, but almost at once I reinserted it – using my hand to guide its alignment and make sure that it was spearing into the right spot.

This time it sank in another inch, and Helen squealed in ecstasy – mingled with a slight note of alarm – as it opened her up inside, cleaving through where nothing and no one had been before. I pulled the dildo out and then pushed it in again, working with gentle insistence to get the whole length into her. She was now taking nearly five of its six inches without any sign of discomfort – in fact, quite the reverse, as she seemed to be revelling in the revelation of the experience.

At this point, I altered my technique: on the backstrokes, I no longer withdrew the phallus all the way – in fact, at least about two inches remained in her pussy. I then began a regime of deeper and firmer thrusts, spearing right into her, until at last I drilled her cunt so far that the base plate to which the dildo was fixed slapped against her ass. From this point, I built up the pace, at first slowly and then – as she showed no sign of discomfort, and every sign of eager lust – I began to shaft her faster and faster, and firmer and firmer.

My final twist was quite literally that – I added a kind of corkscrew motion with my pelvis to my thrusts and withdrawals, on both the inward and outward strokes. I also had the advantage of my position above and behind the supine teenager, and I reached forwards with my right hand to grab a handful of the mane of blonde hair which spilled across her shoulder and back. I used this like the reins on a horse, pulling her head upwards and backwards, and arching her back so that her cunt was in the perfect spot for a real pussy-pounding. Then, I reached under her chest with my left hand, and pulled on her breasts and pinched her nipples.

Helen moaned with a long keening sound, the note of it rising and falling with my thrusts in and out of her; it was muffled only because she had shoved one fist into her mouth and was almost chewing upon it in her frenzy. Her other arm was outstretched, with its hand clawing at the bedsheet for purchase; as I had anticipated, her whole weight was now supported only by the pillows under her chest. I gave a final deep firm thrust with the dildo, and then held it pressed inside her vagina, as her ass quivered against the strap-on’s base plate. With blind instinct, Helen’s pelvis tried to thrust back against the dildo that was impaled inside her, and she cried out sharply in the explosive moment of her release, her whole body shuddering as she came.

I thought for one concerned moment that she had fainted, but after a few seconds of stunned immobility, she drew a long quavering breath as I slowly withdrew the plastic dildo from her body. Once it was free, she gave a deep sigh of well-fucked contentment, and with some grace rolled sideways off the pillows to lie on her back on the bed next to them. I pushed the pillows back up to the headboard, retaining one to cushion my head as I curled up next to her and drew her youthful frame into my arms.

Helen nestled against me, and after a while her breathing slowed to normal pace. We remained like this in contented harmony for a while, but I noticed that her eyes were being repeatedly drawn back to the strap-on, and that her fingers had begun to toy with the sticky rounded end of the dildo. I looked at her steadily for a long moment, and then asked:

‘Would you like to do me? … would you like to fuck me with it?’

Helen almost clapped her hands with glee as she sat up and turned to me, looking suddenly like a little girl who has been offered the free run of the candy store. Her eyes were dancing with curiosity and desire, and she eagerly responded:

‘Oooh! Can I? Really, Vicky, would you like me to? … I’d love to, really really I would!’

I unbuckled the side straps and pulled the harness away from my cunt, and handed it to her.

‘Please do, angel, it would be my pleasure – literally’, I purred, ‘Please … fuck me good and proper!’

She accepted the strap-on with alacrity and I helped her to fasten it on, as the straps had to be adjusted to fit properly over her slimmer hips and ass. When it was in place, she knelt on the bed and gazed down at herself admiringly and almost in disbelief, cradling the projecting shaft of the dildo in one hand and rubbing up and down its phallic length. I kissed her on the mouth, and then whispered into her ear:

‘Fuck me … make me come for you again, just fuck me real hard and make me come for you.’

Helen loved that concept, that my orgasm would be driven by her and would be my homage to her love-making.

‘Oh, Vicky!’ she said in a thick and husky voice, ‘I want you! Oh, God, I want you – and I want to see and hold your lovely breasts as well, they turn me on so much!’

As she said this, she reached for the straps of my bra and pulled them down from my shoulders, so that my smooth round E-cup breasts spilled out of its support. I let the teen’s admiring gaze linger on them for a moment, and then reached behind me to unclip the backband and cast aside the flimsy piece of black lace lingerie. I cupped my breasts in the palms of my hands, their nipples stiffly erect, and lifted them towards my sweet lover as an offering. I felt so electrically charged with lust and the heady anticipation of getting fucked that my voice was reduced to a husky whisper, as I looked my new sister-in-law in the eye and told her:

‘They’re for you, angel, they’re all yours … take them – and take me, fuck me now!’

Helen gave a little shiver and shake, almost as if to check that this wasn’t a dream, and her hands reached for the ripe swell of my mammaries, She kneaded them for a moment, more vigorously and confidently than before, making me gasp and my pussy almost squirt out its soaking wetness, and then she briefly kissed and sucked on each of my nipples, making them feel on fire.

‘Now, Vicky, I’m gonna fuck you now’, she said, her eyes shining with desire, ‘I’m gonna fuck you real good!’

I lay down on my back, my legs spread as far apart as possible, and with a flat pillow under my ass and lower back so that my cunt was thrust up into the air, at a good angle for shafting. Helen knelt between my thighs, and her hand was trembling so much with excitement that it took her three attempts to stick the knob of the dildo into my hole. She was very tentative at first, easing forwards slowly, but my cunt was so wet and aroused and open that the full length of the dildo slid into me as smoothly as a hot knife through butter, catching her slightly by surprise so that she nearly lost her balance.

Helen paused and gazed down at me for a moment, savouring the reversal of our previous roles in my position of sprawled submission beneath her, with her strap-on buried in my vagina. Then she slowly flexed her hips, drawing the dildo upwards and then sliding it down into me once again, all the way until the backplate of the dildo harness was pressed hard against my sticky labia. My mouth opened and my eyes were wide as I gazed back up at her, and I writhed in pleasure from both the physical stimulation and the erotic power of knowing that I was initiating a sixteen-year-old lesbian novice, that I would be the first woman that she ever fucked. Helen’s slow deliberate strokes were driving me wild, and my need was burning me up.

‘Please … oh! please, Helen – faster, do it faster, my angel, please do me harder, oh! – harder!’ I gasped, now utterly and obviously in her power.

From that point, she became more confident and steadily increased her pace, raising and lowering herself above me as if she was doing press-ups, to begin a series of thrusting insertions and withdrawals. This hardly caused her to break sweat, for she was a very fit and athletic girl, her slender arms being all muscle. I knew that she was sporty and played a lot of tennis, and in fact I had been concerned that her tennis coach might have had her cherry before me – they are almost all of them predatory dykes, as I know well, having lost my virginity that way, but hers was either a rare heterosexual exception or had plenty of willing young pussy already. All those practises of forehands and backhands had given Helen a lot of upper-body strength, which she used to remain poised above me whilst she pivoted at the hips and slammed the strap-on into me with ever greater force and pace.

I knew my climax was approaching, and I clamped my hands on her ass, adding my strength to her impaling thrusts, whilst begging her again to do it harder and harder, and to make me come for her. Helen suddenly changed her posture, resting her knees on the mattress and driving the dildo into me at a more horizontal angle, and I shuddered from its passage as it rasped along the walls of my vagina. Now that her hands were freed from the task of supporting her weight, Helen reached forwards for the prize of my breasts. Seizing a nipple in each hand, she squeezed them firmly, paused for a second with the dildo pulled back most of the way out of my pussy, and then with an almost feral snarl she pulled upwards on my tits and slammed the strap-on back into me with greater punch than ever before.

Involuntarily, I released my hold on her butt, and my arms splayed wide, clutching at the crumpled bedsheet. My climax burst upon me like a volcanic explosion, and I gave a harsh tearing cry as my pelvis shuddered and my back arched convulsively off the bed. Helen looked stunned as she was almost lifted upwards, and she gripped my breasts as much to steady herself as to stimulate me further – for I had no need of that now. She rode my climax, some instinct telling her to ram the dildo into me several more times, which caused a series of mini-orgasmic aftershocks. After a long moment of pure blinding ecstatic release, I collapsed back again, completely spent and utterly fucked. I looked up at the startled teen, who was clearly astonished by the effects which she had achieved. I reached upwards, quickly caressing her breasts and flicking her nipples.

‘Wow! That was amazing … brilliant’, I said with complete sincerity; ‘you’re a natural, lover-girl, there’s no doubt about it.’

Helen glowed with pride at this praise, and then the reaction to the excitements and discoveries of the long day caught up with her. She gave a wide yawn, looking suddenly tired out, and I quickly unbuckled the strap-on and set it aside. Now naked, Helen flopped down on one half of the bed, watching me through sleepy eyes as I rolled down and removed my hold-ups. As soon as I was nude as well, I slipped into bed next to her and drew the sheets over both of us. Helen snuggled up to me, and we exchanged soft words and sweet kisses, and she thanked me very prettily for having taken her virginity and showing her so much – to which my very honest answer, once again, was that it had truly been my pleasure! My teenage sister-in-law fell asleep in my bed, her naked young body nestled next to me, cradled under my arm with her small nipples pressed against my side. One of her arms was draped across my stomach with her hand resting on my cunt – she had been playfully stroking my slit when sleep finally overtook her.

As dawn began to break, I woke her up – and gave in to her pleas to take her again with the vibrator before she had to return to her own bedroom. Helen assured me that her vagina did not feel sore any more, but I noticed that she hid a little wince when the vibrator first pushed past where her hymen had been – however, after that, the little minx totally gave herself up to pleasure, bucking her hips upwards against my thrusts. I leant down and sucked and bit her nipples again, until her head went back and she squealed in another bone-shaking orgasm.

After this, it really was time to part, for we could not run the risk of her being seen leaving my bedroom, or of not being found in her own room by her parents in the morning. With aching reluctance – and a few tears, though mainly of happiness, from the sweet teen – we had a quick kiss and hug, before I checked that the coast was clear and she quickly scooted back down the corridor to her own assigned room. We saw each other at breakfast, of course, and sat together – making it look like we had become friends during the wedding celebrations, but of course no more than that. Both sets of parents looked on benignly at the two new sisters-in-law, regarding our companionship as another good omen of friendly feeling between our two families (‘oh, yeah – Mum and Dad, you have no idea!’ was in both our thoughts). Then it was time for Helen to depart with her folks, and I stood with mine in the hotel forecourt to wave them on the their way – and, in a brief moment when everyone else was not looking our way, to blow a kiss to the sweet babe, which she quickly returned.

We have met up regularly since then – mostly without anyone’s knowledge, as fortunately the city where I attend college is only a fifty-minute train journey from Helen’s home town, and on Saturdays she arrives at my room in the student residence in the early afternoon and we make love until she has to catch the last train back in the evening – her parents think she is out shopping or with friends, and then at parties, and they don’t worry as she is always home before midnight. Once we had longer, as her folks were away and she was able to arrive on Friday evening and stay with me for the whole weekend, and I loved every minute of her bubbly vivacious company, as well as the increasingly expert passion with which she fucked me in bed – the little teenage slut loves every lesbian love-making in any and every position imaginable, but most of all she delights in giving me a really hard and deep pussy-pounding with a big strap-on, until I am begging to come for her … and I love that too! In fact, I guess she has become my girlfriend, despite the difference in our ages – and, after all, it’s good to keep these things in the family!

If you enjoyed this, check out my other stories … you might like them too … (to find them, follow the author link at the top of this story)

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