The Second Time

The Second Time

1: The Second Visit

Josie walked nervously into the bar. She had only been inside a bar once since she turned 21 seven years ago and now she was entering it again. This time, a free woman on the prowl.

It had been only a week since the last time, but it was a whole woman ago.

Last week this time, she had been sitting in the quietest corner of the bar. Tonight, this approach seemed ridiculous, sitting in the least noticeable place when trying to meet someone.

If the effect she desired last week was obscurity, it was not successful. In their small town, obscurity for anyone, especially her, would be difficult. Despite this being her first appearance in this bar, many people already knew her, if not by name then by situation. Perhaps they simply thought of her as the tragic newcomer that had occupied the house on the hill for the past four years. (Although, she knew her house was known as The Castle to the locals, as it had indeed once been exactly that.) More likely, she was simply known as the reclusive widow, the unfortunate, or at least unwilling, recipient of her young, but now dead, husband’s riches.

Within minutes of sitting down last week, she was painfully aware that her floral dress made her more, not less visible, the opposite of what choosing the demure outfit was designed to do, making her stand out from the skinny jeans and busty t-shirts around her.

The trigger for her first visit to the bar had been an advert, of all things. An ice-cream advert.

In the four years since his death, Josie had certainly missed his companionship, his conversation and his sharp intelligence, The only person for whom he softened his fierce and demanding mind, this gentleness never ceased to touch her. But Josie had never missed the sex, performed in much the same way each time. He had not been a creative or passionate lover. But there was no blame; Josie had initiated nothing more than he had wanted.

The advert was all sensual shots, slow motion ecstasy, with the advert’s climax depicting some of their product being spooned towards, but missing, the upturned mouth of one of the models, running prettily but suggestively down her perfect chin. The advert did less than trigger something than it did awaken it; Josie would have realised eventually that she had changed. Perhaps it was that she was older, and there was something new to feel unfilled about. Her dreams over the past months had not been too different from the advert. They were sweaty, in some cases strangely sordid, each dream multi-sensory in a way they had not been before. Josie had not known that in dreams you could taste and smell, and still now she could recall some of the tastes and fragrances of the dreams in which a faceless man appeared so often. Some of the fragrances, she recalled with a little shudder, had a deliciousness to them, others had been utterly raw and biological, arousing in a way she had not experienced.

Shopping at a massive mall nearby, Josie drew interested looks when she left her basket of her usually practical underwear behind and left the queue. She left a little boutique half an hour later, having spent an outrageous amount in anyone’s terms on underwear that had previously held no interest for her. Her shopping bag was filled with expensive, soft and delicate underwear. Trying it on, Josie had felt something she did not really understand. She felt a tingle of arousal, but in a situation that made no sense to her. Arousal had only been something she had felt in their bedroom during their lovemaking, but never outside it.

But, in the fitting room, slipping the delicate g-strings and pretty brassieres on, and seeing how she looked in the mirror, she had felt …something. Something not recognisable, but something that made her feel good; good about herself, and yes, good between her gym-shaped thighs. The heat and wetness she felt as the expensive fabric covered and cupped newly aching skin made no sense at all. It made even less sense that leaving the mall, she stopped at a restroom, and discarded her old underwear, putting on some of her purchases. As she left, a young man eyed her receding derriere appreciatively. She was worried that the lines of what she had bought might be overly visible through her white skirt, but she was also a little worried that they would not.

Josie’s first visit to the bar was another uncharacteristic action, also done through veiled understanding of her actions. Afterwards, it all made sense. But just as there are not words for new objects, there could not be recognition of feelings and forces that were emerging for the first time.

2: The First Visit

Within minutes of sitting down in her quiet corner, a waiter approached her, explaining that two men at the bar counter had asked him to arrange a drink for her. She declined them both, gesturing apologetic thanks uncertainly in the direction of the bar. She asked the waiter for a club soda, but changed her order to a cocktail, trying to match the bravery of her order to her decision to be in the bar.

She seemed to cast her eyes downwards for a moment, taking a longer sip of the fruity alcohol than was probably wise. When she raised her eyes again, enjoying the slight burn as she swallowed, a young woman was sitting down at her table.

The woman raised her eyebrows to Josie, wordlessly asking her permission to join her. Before Josie could follow her instinctive response, she heard herself agreeing, following this with some comment, one she immediately recognised as babbling and inane, about strength in numbers. Within seconds, a man joined their table, placing a drink on the table for the woman, himself, and Josie. How did he know so quickly what I’m drinking?

“This is Juan” the woman said, “And I am Isabella”.

Her accent was strong, probably Spanish, but belied her blonde hair and blue eyes. Juan said nothing, and nodded his head, his dark eyes liquid and lazy, his expression barely changing other than the smallest turning up of the corner of his mouth.

Josie introduced herself, and thankfully, found her propensity to babble with these strangers evaporating very quickly. Conversation with Isabella was serious, almost sombre, but unusually comfortable. Josie, afterwards, would remember the impression Isabella had made on her right from the start. Heaviness. From the deepness of her voice, to the slowness of her speech, Isabella seemed to have a greater weight than anyone Josie had met. Physically beautiful, the feeling of heaviness also came from the roundness of Isabella’s body, and the way that her curves seem to shift and strain against her clothing with each movement she made, the lacy brassiere an obvious barrier between Isabella’s breasts and her sheer blouse, drawing Josie’s eyes in an oddly magnetic way. Once, as Isabella briefly left their table, Josie found herself watching her, appreciating the swell of her hips and her slim waist, how every curve seemed to be straining against the fabric that hugged her body.

The evening blurred into a mix of music from a guitarist that arrived and installed himself into another corner of the bar, the continuously arriving cocktails, and the calm conversational journey that Isabella and Josie travelled. Juan smiled occasionally, but otherwise said almost nothing. Isabella seemed interested that Josie was the owner of the castle they had admired when they arrived in the village, musing about its potential for photography.

Then it was late. The guitarist was hunched over his equipment, packing up. For the first time, there was a pause in the conversation that was not the comfortable silence that had characterised their breaks in conversation. Juan seemed as distracted as he had been, but Isabella looked at Josie, raising her eyebrows in a similar way to her arrival.

Before she asked, Josie knew what her question would be. Not from any experience, just from the way that Isabella’s body seemed to tense. The words were unexpected though.

“My gift.” Isabella said quietly. “Will you be my gift to him?”

Afterwards, Josie realised how that moment had defined so many others to come. Isabella blinked, slowly, looking into Josie’s eyes for an answer as she continued.

“He is … unusual” she said, and for a second Josie thought she saw the hint of a smile cross Isabella’s lips.

Josie, nodded, not trusting her voice. She nodded again, confirming her decision.

Isabella sat down next to Juan, her hand on his chest as she whispered in his ear, the hint of her smile emerging again as she offered him whatever was being offered.

3: The Castle

The room situated on the terrace that was the roof of the castle was Josie’s favourite space. It was almost entirely enclosed in glass, and Persian carpets covered the rough ancient floor, with opulent chaise longues laid out next to the windows, giving a view of the night sky and the light of the nearest city. The faint sounds of the town and people making their drunken journey home could be heard along the faint warm breeze that blew into the only open sliding door.

Josie, after silently showing them into the room, sat on one of the chaise longues, trembling and uncertain. Isabella joined her, leaving Juan to himself across the room.

Isabella unbuttoned the first three buttons of Josie floral dress, the brush of her hands warm and steady against Josie’s chest.

“So demure on the outside, and so sensual on the inside” she murmured, as her unbuttoning revealed the white lace of Josie’s brassiere.

Isabella pulled Josie to her feet, continuing to unbutton her, until Josie’s dress fell to the floor. Josie’s whole body trembled.

“You have never done this before?” Isabella asked, her voice gentle and comforting. Josie shook her head, feeling herself on the verge of tears. Something was about to change, something that had been contained too long was about to break open.

“You want this very much, don’t you?” Isabella asked, still gentle, compassionate. Josie nodded, tears blinding her suddenly, as the question was painful, and the truth of her answer was a painful realisation. She ached. She had been aching for a long time. Not just the new needs that seemed to have possessed her physically, but for the affection of another warm, breathing and tender human being.

“We will love you then,” Isabella said, and Josie could hear the shared emotion in Isabella voice. She turned to look at Isabella, and saw tears in her eyes too. “We will love you.”

Isabella undressed Josie, and sat Josie down on the chaise longue. Bending down, she briefly kissed Josie on the curve between her neck and shoulder before going to Juan, who still sat on the other side of the room. Josie watched as Isabella, facing Juan, undressed. As Isabella stood naked in front of Juan, Josie wandered what it would feel like to caress her full, perfectly round bottom, and to put her hands on her slim waist.

Isabella sat down next to Juan and began to undress him, leaning forward to kiss him, their mouths exploring each other. Her hands seemed to find it difficult to stay on their task, fluttering from his shirt buttons to press and push between his open legs, and then back. Soon he was also undressed, and they both stood up, hands entwined, Isabella smiling.

What she was about to do with this beautiful man, was suddenly real. Was she about to have this man inside her? The first man for four years, and only man other than her husband? He was smoothly muscled and tanned, with what looked like soft and perfect skin. And the disinterest, or whatever it had been, was gone. Juan’s dark eyes looked intently at Josie, with a fierceness that made her stomach flip. What Josie saw was a look of total lust, his penis erect, his breathing faster. For her.

Other than a few wisps on the curves of Juan’s chest, the couple were hairless. Josie had in the past weeks also experimented with shaving herself for a reason she couldn’t explain, but she had not removed everything like Juan and Isabella had. They were a beautiful couple, Isabella’s curves and heavy breasts a contrast for the lean, sculpted man beside her.

Josie felt another involuntary flutter of her stomach as Isabella let go of Juan’s hand, and they crossed the room to her, feeling like they towered over her as she remained sitting on the chaise longue. It’s going to happen now, Josie knew, even though she realised what would happen next was unknown, and not in her control.

They stood so close Josie could feel their heat from their bodies, and Josie wandered, questioning her own thought, what it would feel like to put her face against the swollen warmth of Isabella’s breasts, and what another woman’s nipples would feel like against her face, against her tongue. Juan’s closeness flustered Josie, his erect penis straight and flat against his muscled belly no more than a few inches away, so close she could see the faint pulsing in the enlarged tip.

Isabella knelt down in front of Josie, and kissed her on the forehead, her fingertips softly grazing down the curve of one of Josie’s breasts.

“You are even more beautiful without your clothes on” she smiled. “You will be the nicest gift Juan has ever had.”

Still kneeling , she turned towards Juan, and enclosed the tip of his penis in her mouth, slowly moving up and down, her tongue swirling round him as though she was tasting him.

Josie found it hard to breathe. Her nipples ached, she felt swollen but empty between her legs. The smell of their skin so close to her was intoxicating. She was shaking more than before, but now she knew with an excitement she didn’t know possible.

She had only once in their marriage sucked her husband, and even then, she could tell he thought it vaguely embarrassing. She hadn’t really minded though, the aching jaw and messily splattered fluids (she couldn’t bring herself to let him come in her mouth) quite inconvenient.

But tonight, she watched Isabella tenderly tasting and sucking him, his thick shaft shiny with her saliva, and how he gasped appreciatively whenever she plunged downwards taking as much of his impressive size into her mouth as she could, Josie knew she wanted this. His fingers stroked Isabella’s hair tenderly, as he muttered words in Spanish that seemed to be endearing and intimate.

Isabella stopped for a moment, and looked towards Josie. Her pupils were wide, her eyes glassy with her excitement.

“Your turn” she said, reaching downwards to pick up Josie’s tiny silk g-string, and used it gently to wipe her glistening saliva off Juan. Seeing her panties touching this beautiful man’s penis, again for a reason Josie could not understand, only made the ache inside worse.

With shaking hands, she leaned forward, still sitting down, aware of how close she was to Isabella and the heat of her body, she wrapped her fingers around him. The heat of his shaft was unexpected, and so was the unfamiliarity and size of him, having only held one other man before. The way he pulsed in her hand thrilled her, and she briefly touched a finger to her own pussy to still the ache for a second or to. How did I get so wet? she wondered.

Isabella, seeing her hesitation, realised her inexperience.

“He likes it if you lick him there” she said indicating the smooth stretch of skin at the underneath of the swollen and almost purple head. “And then suck him into your mouth and do this” she said, demonstrating afterwards, hearing Juan gasp as she did.

“But be careful” Isabella seemed to purr, licking away a tear of cloudy fluid from him, “He is almost too far…”

And Josie followed Isabella’s instructions, feeling the power of her new skill as Juan moaned as she worked, again muttering foreign words, touching her ears and circling her hair round his fingers tenderly. She felt like a goddess. But the ache between her legs only grew worse, her own fingers wandering to the swollen, slippery flesh again to try and ease it. Juan’s mutterings grew louder, and she felt him pulse and throb inside her mouth, oozing some more salty warning of how close he was onto her tongue.

The years of what she suddenly thought of as half-sex, and the subsequent years of her abstinence and disinterest had brought her to this point. Having this man inside her right now was all that mattered. She wanted to feel the throbbing that was in her hand, inside her. She wanted to feel his slippery release deep inside her, and be the object of his lust.

Josie pulled Juan out of mouth, and lay back on the chaise longue, trembling with her need. Isabella lay on another one alongside her, her long legs splayed, one knee drawn up, masturbating. Isabella seemed to be breathing with some difficulty, gasping, her eyes bright. Her long fingers delved into herself, stopping to rub at her swollen pink nub before delving inwards again. Isabella, as she did this, was not looking at Juan, but rather at Josie.

Josie pulled Juan towards her, the sight of Isabella sending another flood of wetness into her. Juan stood over her, his penis shiny and huge, another twist of fear going through Josie as he leaned on his arms, and lowered himself towards her. For a second, Josie thought she might not be able to wait, as she twitched inside, the beginning of an orgasm upon her before she could have him inside her. Her teeth gritted as she fought for control, the initial waves that had threatened to carry her away subsiding.

His face serious, his eyes locked on hers, Juan lowered himself between her legs. She felt the thick heat of him pressing against her dripping entrance, parting her lips. He felt blunt, huge, impossibly big. And then he was inside her, and Josie’s mouth was open, gasping, as she seemed to feel every part of him stretch her open, the thickness of his head exquisitely stretching her deeper and deeper as he slowly filled her up.

Perhaps it was how the muscled curve of his bottom felt in her hands, or how he bent his head to gently tongue her nipples, but Josie knew she couldn’t stop. Her orgasm crashed, a giant wave on a dry beach, and she heard herself muttering obscenities as she writhed around him, feeling herself claw at him, her whole pussy feeling alive as it twitched and throbbed, making him gasp each time another spasm clenched him. She heard Isabella cry out near her, taking her own pleasure into her own hands as she watched Josie come, the two woman coming together, meters apart.

Finally, it subsided, the relief after so much time sweet, but sad. Josie wiped unexpected tears from her cheeks. Juan, instead of starting to thrust towards what Josie’s orgasm had robbed from him, gently withdrew himself from her, and placed a kiss on her forehead. The tenderness brought more tears to her eyes, and she wanted to sob. Instead, she smiled, a hand on his cheek as an unspoken thank-you.

Isabella quickly kneeled before Juan, and kissing the ridged muscles of his stomach first, lovingly stroked him, slimy with Josie’s juices, until he gasped once, twice, and erupted pearly strands onto Isabella’s breasts. Josie groaned with disappointment, seeing what would not be hers erupt onto Isabella’s skin. Before his spurting subsided, Isabella gently took him in her mouth, sucking the last of his seed from him, stroking the small of his back whilst she did.

Isabella spoke what seemed to be the first words in hours.

“Remember, I said he was… different.” she said, “Come here and see ...”

Following Isabella’s instructions, Josie sat on the chaise longue, and bent her head to enclose him, tasting their combined juices. As she sucked, she felt him harden and pulse in her mouth, soon fully erect again. He throbbed briefly, releasing another small spurt of his salty come onto Josie’s tongue, which she swallowed, liking the idea of it inside her.

He pushed her away gently, and lying down on his back on the chaise longue, he guided Josie to straddle him, her feet on either side of the chaise longue, and guided her onto him.

Again, he felt like he would not fit as she impaled herself on him, her breathing faster as she tried to accommodate all of him. Finally she could rest on him, the feeling of fullness exquisite. Josie wanted to feel what she had deprived herself of before, and started to raise and lower herself, the swollen tip of him first stretching her entrance, then the depths of her. His hands flew to her breasts as she rode, tugging at her fiery nipples, flooding them both with more of her wetness. Her eyes closed, she smelled Isabella’s perfume nearby, the heat of another body close to her. Juan’s hands moved to Josie hips, helping her ride him, pulling himself harder into her.

When Isabella’s mouth enclosed Josie’s nipple, her mouth soft and hot, Josie squeezed her eyes shut with the pleasure, tears escaping. When Isabella’s tongue twirled round her turgid nipples, and Isabella’s hand reached down to the thick flesh of her clitoris, Josie cried out. And when Josie felt Juan’s hands grab her hips, slamming her down onto his cock, as his body bucked upwards into her and then stiffened as he shot his semen upwards into her, she gasped in time, every spurt and spasm hot inside her. And at the moment that Juan’s thrusting slowed, Isabella bent her head to the junction of Josie and Juan, and licked at Josie, her tongue wisely and rapidly flicking at Josie’s inflamed clit. Isabella teased Josie’s nipples with one hand, and continued her furious licking, and Josie could hear herself making a mewing noise, then sobbing, each sob sounding like it was being wrenched out of her, and then she came, full of Juan’s spurts as another woman helped her to orgasm.

Many minutes later, Josie climbed off Juan, collapsing onto a nearby couch as her breathing returned to normal. Lying splayed open, his semen cooling on her thighs, she opened her eyes, afraid of the shyness that might follow, then closed them.

Isabella’s head on Josie’s lap roused her from half-sleep, her hands stroking Josie’s belly. Isabella looked at Josie with the same questioning look she had used at the start of this evening. Without waiting for Josie’s answer, Isabella opened Josie’s thighs. She began to lap at Josie, cleaning away her man’s semen along with Josie’s juices, until Josie was arching her back, trying to get Isabella to tongue at her clitoris.

With a new confidence, Josie pushed her new friend onto her back. Then, doing something she might have dreamed, but never done, she lowered her aching pussy onto Isabella’s questing tongue, and for the first time in her life, bent her head to taste another woman. She thrilled as she twirled her tongue around Isabella, hearing her gasp and thrust, enjoying her new friend’s wetness, her scent and the texture of her most intimate flesh against her tongue. And as Juan stroked their backs and kissed them tenderly, they came, lips against lips, thighs clamped around each others faces, a gentler, longer orgasm than any Josie had ever had.

4: End

So tonight, back in the bar, only one week, but a whole woman later, Josie smiled, and stepped inside.


3992 words