All the Young Girls Love Laura Pt. 01

"Baby, do that to my other nipple, too," she panted. I was dubious.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think so," she said, her hand resting familiarly on my arm.

"How about I do it in a little while after some other stuff?"

"What 'other stuff' did you have in mind?" she asked with a little smile. I knew I could distract her.

"Oh, a little pussy licking, some ass eating, toe sucking...the usual," I said. From her squirming I knew I'd succeeded in focusing her interest elsewhere. I returned to kissing Maria's middle, below her breasts and along to her navel. I licked inside it, salty and moist with her perspiration. I lifted up my head and gazed along her hips and thighs.

"Wonderful," I breathed. Maria sighed. I caressed her calves lightly, and she sighed again. She was wearing pantyhose, her skin taut from the pressure of the sheer fabric. My fingernail made a slight whine of sound, like a stylus in an old-fashioned vinyl record with the sound off, as it ran along the underside of her calf. As my hand neared the hem of her tan and cream-color tartan skirt, I lifted it up with my fingers, showing off more of her lower thigh, slowly, teasingly pushing it up. Her breath caught in her throat - I think it was the sensual touch of my nails along her sensitive inner thigh, and the naughty nature of having her skirt lifted up - 'good' girls don't allow that, so she must be a 'bad' girl.

"Oh, don't do that," she said, mock irritated.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because I'm a good girl, I don't let other girls touch me there," she responded. We'd played this game before, and it had several variations that she could choose as she liked. "Only lesbians do that, and I heard that you and Linda Johnson got caught in the girls' locker room kissing." God only knew who 'Linda Johnson' was, probably some high school crush she had when she really thought that she was a 'good' girl.

"I'm sure that you'll like it," I said. "Just let me do it a little bit."

"Cheerleaders go out with football players, we don't do nasty things with other cheerleaders, especially a transfer from an all-girls school. My boyfriend is the quarterback, he'll be back any minute. I don't want him to think I'm like that."

"Well, then, we should be quick," I said. "Just let me show you a few little things I learned at my last school to prove you're probably not interested in girls. Then you'll know you're not a lesbian and he'll never know what happened."

"Like what?" she responded, genuinely curious now.

"Well, let me just try this...it won't take so long. I'm sure you'll just laugh at me for being dumb, it's a lesbian test we had at my old school."

"A 'lesbian test'?" she replied. "Okay, but don't try anything funny."

"No, it's just normal stuff," I said, my finger tips caressing her feet, then massaging them more physically.

"Oh! That feels good," she sighed. That wasn't that much of a surprise, every woman on earth would say the same thing at having her feet kneaded and rolled. It is heavenly. I massaged her feet for the longest time, getting turned on myself. I'm not especially into women's feet, but one can't help but feel a pang of sympathy pleasure at caressing another woman's feet, especially if you happen to like that woman.

I kissed along one stocking clad foot, and sucked her big toe into my mouth, laving it with my tongue.

"Oh my god," Maria moaned. "Suck my toe, yes! Ohhh..."

Her hips writhed as I pretended that her toe was a cock or better, a clit - something a lot more pleasant than a cock for me - and she shivered with pleasure. I don't know if she came at that point or not, but she really did enjoy it. Then I licked the undersides of her other toes, and along the sensitive sole of her foot, which made her giggle languidly.

"Oh Laura, you are the best!" she gasped.

"Mmm, your feet taste so good, it must be all your cheerleader training that makes you taste so good," I told her, trying to keep her on point with her fantasy.

"Oh...yes, we're always practicing," she said.

"You must be sore from doing splits and stuff," I said. "I learned some great massages...at my old school. That would be okay, right? Not dykey or anything."

"Oh, I'm sure that would be fine. Could you show me?"

"I'll be happy to," I smiled, and began massaging her calves. I actually did take a Parks and Rec course on massages once, so I do have a pretty good idea of how to get somebody's attention with my hands, plus with my natural focus on what women desire I've got a pretty satisfying technique.

"Oh, yes," she moaned again, her eyes closed. I switched to her other foot and leg, kissing her toes there but not sucking on them, and massaging that calf. Then I worked my way up both legs to her knees, pushing her feet up the mattress toward her hips so that her knees raised up and her skirt was forced up until I saw the darker tan of her pantyhose and her white panties underneath.

"You'd be more comfortable if we take off your hose, okay?" I said, not really asking.

"Yeah," she whispered. I rolled the sheer fabric off her hips to the tops of her thighs, then using my fingertips I caressed down each thigh with five fingers on her inner thigh and five on the outside, going back and forth, moving the hose down about six inches each time.

I made sure to touch her a lot on her inner thigh right at the gusset of her panties, probably the most sensitive area on a woman outside of her primary erogenous areas, which are quite extensive themselves when you know what you're doing. Honestly men, there are so many square inches on a woman's body that respond to erotic touch, that I completely do not understand how you fuck up lovemaking so badly.

Maria was moaning, her head rocking slowly from side to side, and she was swallowing constantly. I guess her mouth was watering as she approached another orgasm. I leaned down and kissed the front of her thighs as I unrolled the pantyhose - the inner thighs were for the return trip.

I finally removed the hose, squeezing and tickling her toes a little as I pulled it off each foot, and then began kissing her inner thighs starting at the knees and leisurely working my way up both legs. I was in no hurry, as we both knew where I was going to end up and I wanted her to be thinking about that, and anticipating it, for a long, long time.

Her thighs were quivering under my lips, and I interspersed the kisses with little swipes of my tongue along her flesh. Her skin was salty and I could smell the hot musk of her excited pussy the closer I got to it, my own mouth watering with desire and need for her.

"Is that massage relaxing your muscles?" I asked, trying to stay in character for her fantasy.

"What?" she said, momentarily forgetting fantasy as reality began overwhelming her. "Oh yeah." She was having trouble keeping any control, which I guess was the whole point - making her lose control.

I nosed up to the hem of her panties, simple white cotton, at each thigh, using my fingers to lift it and peek under at her sweet little vulva. She was neatly shaved along her labia, but I could see by the slight bulge that she still had her neat, trimmed bush. I appreciate women who at least tame their jungle.

I adore women with bare, smooth vulvas, and women with trimmed bushes, but vast swathes of untrimmed foliage make my job a lot harder and take away from a woman's pleasure, in my opinion. Plus, sometimes really long hair down there can make me gag, yuck! I'll often make suggestions to those women about the latest fashions in pussy decor - usually they just don't have anyone to talk to about it, and appreciate the guidance.

Even better, I can schedule many of these wives for shaving sessions, and the hot sex that follows. The Presbyterian minister's young wife, of all people, was my first shavee. I had gotten tired of dealing with the forest between her legs - I think she had some religious objection in the back of her mind about trimming herself - but I was able to persuade her that it was closer to god's plan for her to be like Eve, who, legend had it, was bare at her crotch.

She so enjoyed our warm bath together, followed by my very carefully shaving her entire vulva. Her pussy, once it was exposed, was an absolute delight both visually and orally, a deep crimson gash, with tiny labia and hot juices flowing. We licked each other's cunts for hours, and when I introduced her to scissoring - the wet, hot feel of another woman's labia on hers, and clits kissing, that I knew that I had a client and lover for life.

I imagine that most women's husbands appreciate the results - that is, if the women can still bear to have her husband see her pussy. Many women who've been married a while would just as soon keep that part out of their husband's interests and involve somebody like me instead. That's just fine with me, I adore all pussy.

A wet spot began to appear on Maria's panties at the bottom of her slit. There was no doubt that she was ready for a major climax, she was already feeling numerous tiny orgasms, kind of like an earthquake and aftershocks, but in reverse. Of course, that kind of scenario means that I've been very successful, the name of the game is giving the client at least one unforgettable orgasm, preferably more, along with the intimacy and friendship of another woman.

I traced my fingertips over her labia through the thin fabric, which became completely soaked with her flowing lube as it touched her slit.

"Ohhh," Maria moaned, hips rolling and her hand squeezing and caressing her breasts. I noticed that she was avoiding her bitten nipple, which was no doubt a bit sore, poor baby. I pulled the fabric aside at her crotch to expose her beautiful pussy to view. Lovely glistening cunt, deep pink with moderately sized labia and her smallish clit already up and a deep red. I blew on it lightly. There was no way I was going to touch it unless I was ready to scrape her off the ceiling.

Her hips rolled in response to my breath over her button, and she licked at her lips like a madwoman.

"God!" she exclaimed, one hand dropping down to my head, pushing my face closer to her pussy. "God, eat me!"

I was more than happy to comply. The hot, moist scent of her excited cunt had been driving me crazy with desire myself. I brought one hand between my legs, stroking my own labia as I began licking alongside hers, my tongue lapping at her hot, slick flesh and dipping inside her steaming cavern of pleasure, creamy fluid rolling out onto my tongue, sweet, musky and viscous, my favorite treat.

"Unnh, unnh," Maria groaned, her orgasm beginning its long rise, like an ocean swell off Hawaii that you just know is going to drown somebody. My tongue continued its way up her lips to her clit, where it cautiously swirled circles around her deep red pearl, glistening and pulsing with her pleasure and her pulse, her hips banging up and down now. To my surprise, Maria was now pinching her bruised nipple, and drooling out of the side of her mouth, saliva running down her cheek. Maria was learning about the pleasure of pain - something for me to keep in mind for future play sessions.

I lightly lapped my tongue a few nanometers over her clit - by that I mean that I was as close to touching as I could get without actually touching it - and she erupted into a major orgasm, or at least the biggest, longest one I'd ever seen her have. I suspect it was the best of her life, as she'd mentioned numerous times that she'd only cum once or twice with her husband.

"Oh god, fuck fuck FUCK!" she exclaimed, loudly. I hoped that my neighbors were all at work. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming...cumming...so good, so good, dear god good..." she moaned, her hands wetly clutching the sheet, twisting it into a crumpled mass of 600 thread count Egyptian cotton on either side of her body.

I rode her waves of ecstasy, my face close to her spasming cunt - she didn't need me touching her - inhaling the pleasurable fragrance of a woman's fresh, aroused vagina. It's so lovely, and they say that scent is evocative of specific memory, that a particular smell will conjure up a memory. Every woman's body, and especially her pussy, smells different. I love the images that smelling an excited pussy will bring to my mind.

After long minutes of her body relaxing, then tensing again as another orgasm washed through her, over and over, finally I sensed that I could move up her body and hold her. If she was finished, that was the one thing she would need and must, must have.

I took her in my arms, her face against my breasts, her mouth making little mewing sounds, her lips working, her eyes closed. I thought that she'd fallen asleep, and maybe she had, but then she said, "I was afraid that it would never stop."

I made a noncommittal sound. She cocked her head toward me, looking up at me. "I actually thought that orgasm might never end. It felt so good, so indescribably good, and it just kept going on - I would have loved it forever, but how to explain it to my husband?" She giggled.

"Can you imagine?" she whispered, tucking her face into my breasts again. "Mmm, your boobs feel good," she murmured, then fell asleep for maybe fifteen minutes or so. I was perfectly content with her warm body in my arms, and I imagine that she wasn't getting much cuddle time from her husband. Since I didn't have any more appointments that day, I'd have been fine if we stayed like that all night.

Eventually Maria woke up and kissed my cheek. "God, I love you, Laura."

"I love you too, Maria," I said.

"No, I mean...I really, really do love you." I hoped that she wouldn't start to get needy.

These are the bittersweet problems of a modern day lesbian courtesan!

Chapter 2

"So, how much do you charge?" Mrs. Holloway asked. She was a new client I was meeting the day after fucking Maria.

I explained my fee to her as I looked her over. She was an attractive forty year old, pretty typical for one of my clients.

"That seems like a lot," she said.

"Not for happiness," I responded with a smile. The fact of the matter is, for a lesbian "companion," it's a seller's market. There are about 60 million married women in the U.S. and I'd estimate that about 59 million of them think their sex life could be a whole lot better. Of that I guess about fifteen million would like to explore making it better with another woman's help, and are ready to do something about instead of just complaining.

There aren't that many women who do what I do, so there's no shortage of potential clients. In addition, I'm very good at what I do and rarely have a dissatisfied customer. Repeat business makes up the bulk of my activity, many of my clients have me scheduled for weekly appointments. So, like it or not, that's my fee. Of course, if we get along I can always cut an especially hot client or a regular a break, but I try to keep that sort of thing to a minimum.

"Well, it's not for me...it's for my daughter."

"Excuse me?" I said.

"I want my daughter to know what an orgasm is like, so that she knows what her husband-to-be should be able to do for her," she said.

"Is your daughter a lesbian, or bi?" I asked her.

"Not to my knowledge," she replied with a little shake of her head.

"Mrs. Holloway-" I began.

"Sue...call me Sue," she interjected.

"Sue, I don't do third party relationships. I need to be hired by the person who wants my services."

"I want your services...just not for myself," she said.

I sighed. "You can see that buying something life changing for another person is kind of presumptuous, can't you?" I didn't see any light of awareness lighting up in her eyes.

"Look, you understand that what I provide is lesbian sex, among other things? And that if I gave your daughter an orgasm, then she'd be having lesbian sex, have you thought about just talking to her? Or if you're bound and determined to get her a companion, to get her some guy...considering she's engaged to a guy, right?"

She looked at me sternly.

"I want her to have sex with another girl, especially one her own age, because that will be meaningless. If she had sex with a man she might become attached to him instead of her fiancé. Besides, men are horrible at actually helping a woman to orgasm, so he might just turn her off to sex or worse, turn her into a lesbian like you."

I've learned not to get offended by clients, they often say the dumbest things. Besides, she was right about the man possibly screwing up the...screwing. I think men have made more women into new lesbians than seductive lesbians have.

"Sue, your daughter - what's her name, by the way - will have to give her informed consent before I will do anything."

"Melissa, it's Melissa," she replied, a little irritably. Obviously my failure to get with the program was wrecking her plan.

"Okay, you'll have your 'informed consent.' And if you two decide not to have sex, that's okay too. But I desperately want you to spend some time with her and make sure she knows how wonderful sex can be if it's done correctly."

"I think that'll work," I conceded. "Forgive my presumption, but it sounds as though you and your husband have a good sex life, and you want the same for Melissa."

She gave a sad half-laugh, half sigh. "No, not at all. I had someone before I met my husband, who was absolutely wonderful. My husband now...no."

I had no response to that and remained silent. "Anyway, yes, I want her to be happy and I think that you're the woman to show her the way. One of my very best friends had recommended you." She declined to name her, but in any case I guess word-of-mouth works!

There was one thing I had to do after that conversation, though - talk to my own mother. It disturbed me a little that Sue and Melissa had such a weird, but caring relationship. I just needed to reach out to my own touchstone of family. I called her on her cell.

"Hi mom," I said. "I was just wondering what you're up to." I don't talk to her as much as I should. I don't visit with her that much either. All in all, I'm probably a pretty bad daughter.

"Hello, dear," she responded, her voice light. "To what do I owe this pleasure? Have you found someone yet?"

My mom knows I'm gay, but she doesn't know what I do for money. She thinks I work for a consulting company downtown.

"No...don't worry, I'm still looking, I don't want to end up with a house full of cats."

"You'll make some pretty, lovely and very intelligent girl very happy someday," she reassured me. "All the girls love you." I guess that was true, just not the way she thought.

"How's dad?" I asked. My father is a wonderful man, but he's completely consumed by business. Sometimes I wondered how my mother dealt with it.

"He's fine, he's on a two week business trip right now," she said.

"How do you deal with it?" I asked her.

"I keep myself busy, dear. I suppose you'll experience something like it, if your wife is a busy executive." I love my mom, but she doesn't know how to subtly sell her points.

"Maybe so, mom," I replied with a sigh. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you a question...would you ever try to make me straight?"

There was a silence at her end. "That's a strange question, Laura. Why do you ask?"

"Oh...I just have a friend whose mother is trying to run her life a little too much, and I wondered what you thought of such a thing."

"Well, I'm a little offended by it," she responded. "Your father and I are very proud of you, and that includes your being a lesbian. We couldn't love you any more if you were straight or whatever. I will never try to make you straight."

"Thank you, mom," I responded, a warm feeling inside at her support, and a flush on my face from not having completely trusted her. "I'm sorry for asking, I should have known that you always love me."

"Keep that thought uppermost, dear," she replied. I could once again hear the smile in her voice.