A Loss of Innocence
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Hi, my name is Nerida Lawson and this is the story of how I lost my innocence. But first let me tell you a little about myself. I am an Australian now living off the coast of Washington State on an island near Dark Harbor. This is perfect for me as it is only a few hours to Seattle and my agent but isolated enough that I can do my art work uninterrupted. I am an illustrator for books, mostly children’s stories. Well established enough in my field to be able to support myself, I am able to live here without taking on a second job.
Of course it doesn’t hurt that I have an inheritance from my parents who passed away a few years ago in a car accident. This money allowed me to buy my home and artist’s studio and a few acres on this beautiful island I now call home. Of course I would rather have my parents. I came here two summers back when a writer invited me to visit. I had been in touch with her concerning her story which I was contracted to illustrate. The author, Gwen, was writing a story about a young native girl and it was set in the area. She suggested I should come visit the island and get a feel for the local natives and their work. When she found out that I would be spending my 34th birthday alone after losing my parents some months ago, she insisted I spend my birthday with her on her property on Hawk Island.
I thought the change of scenery might help me pass the first birthday without my parents a little easier, so I agreed and organized my flight with my travel agent. My younger sister was busy with her life as a flight attendant and rarely at home much these days and both my older sisters were happily ensconced with their husbands and children, so I felt no bonds to hold me in Australia.
I arranged with my neighbor to have their teenage son look after my mail, garden and pot plants, canceled the milk and paper and set up an electronic system to turn my lights on at odd times. Two days later I was driving my rental car to Dark Harbor where Gwen was meeting me. Hawk Island was like something from a postcard. It isn’t a small island and has a population of more than ten thousand. It has a thriving town center where one can purchase most things necessary to live on this idyllic island. I fell in love with the area and the community from the moment our ferry landed.
The more I saw of Hawk Island, over the next few weeks, the more I wanted to live here. By the time I had finished the illustrations for Gwen, I was checking out the local real estate. One week later I was the proud owner of an artist’s studio and two bedroom cabin on two acres of heaven. My view is along the coast looking at all the little islands as well as the mainland. On a clear day, Mt Baker looks like it is in my back yard.
Two years later and I am sitting here looking out my windows at this glorious view but not seeing it. My mind won’t let me see anything but a vision of loveliness. How can a thirty six year old heterosexual female be even thinking about another woman, but this woman had me mesmerized. It all started so innocently; one minute I was more than happy with my sex life and the opposite sex and then Cleo entered my life and I couldn’t think of anyone else.
When I first met Cleo, I thought that she was an attractive young lady and that I would love to paint her. So when she started helping her father, Alf, with my garden I told myself that the fascination I had with her was purely my artist’s eye seeing her beauty. She is quite tall, at least five feet 9 inches, and slim but with curves where they are needed. She almost reminds me of a panther with her long shapely limbs and well toned torso. Her long black hair waves down her back which she often pulls back with a scrunchy into a ponytail. Her skin is the color of a burnished copper. Full luscious lips frame the whitest, most perfect smile. Then as you glance further up her face past her aquiline nose, you are completely blown away by the greenest eyes framed by long dark lashes. This is something I have never before seen in an African American.
I found myself spending more time in my garden with my easel and paints. As she bent over the garden beds, my eyes were drawn to the curve of her buttocks in her short shorts. I laughed to myself when I saw the red rose tattoo on her shapely cheek. She often looked up to catch me watching her, and I know I would blush deeply. My creamy skin didn’t take much to redden deeply. It almost matched my auburn hair. I’m sure it was like looking at two pools of blue in a sea of red. At least when Cleo saw me watching her, she would smile. So hopefully she wasn’t insulted by my sudden case of voyeurism. We chatted often. She is a very intelligent young lady. Just out of college she is doing any work she can find until she is able to get into her passion as a career. Photography is her passion and Cleo has offered to show me some of her work soon. Meanwhile all the characters I am drawing look just like this stunning young woman.
Life continued with my attraction to Cleo still occupying my mind when she came up behind me one day in the orchard. As I zonguldak escort stroked my paintbrush across the paper, her voice broke the silent reverie I was in. She had a husky, sensual voice that matched her sleek good looks.
“Nerida, I was wondering if you would like to look at my folio tonight after supper?” she asked.
My rush to say yes even surprised me and I blushed once more.
“How about 7:30ish.?” I stammered.
“That’s fine, and would you mind if I bought some of Mom’s plum wine?”
I nodded still feeling the redness in my face and quickly turned back to my easel. I heard the leaves rustle as she turned to go back to the gardening. My heart was pounding in my ample bosom. Thoughts of what I must do before tonight rushed through my mind. I would need to go down town and pick up a few things for nibblies. A soak in a scented bath sprung to mind as well. All my clothes raced through my brain as I wondered what I should wear, and then suddenly I realized that I was treating this like a date instead of what it really was.
“Oh well, cheese and crackers and my burgundy lounge suit though the bath can still stay in the picture,” I told myself.
Later that afternoon found me lying back in the tub. My large breasts seemed to float in a sea of bubbles. The smell of roses filled the steamy room. The sultry voice of Lena Horne crooning “Stormy Weather” echoed through the cottage. As my toe played with bubbles, I wondered at this new found interest in the same sex. Though I didn’t have a steady boyfriend, I did have a full sex life. It had been a couple of weeks since I had invited Jeff to the island. Jeff is a friend who like me isn’t looking for a permanent relationship but is great in bed. It was just after Cleo had moved back to the island and I had found myself extremely horny. Jeff had come to my rescue, and we had romped the weekend away, making love in all corners of the cottage. I had worn him out but still felt curiously dissatisfied.
I had never entertained homosexual thoughts. The closest I had come was in high school when Tracy McEwan, my best friend, and I had practiced kissing on each other. But I had graduated to boys soon after and never thought again of other females. That is until now. My fingertips traced circles over my creamy white globes as I visualized Cleo. She has such a strong but lithe figure. Her breasts are pert and not too large like mine. My nipples hardened as my fingers teased and pinched them. I groaned as I felt myself quickening below. One hand slowly moved itself lower, lightly caressing the skin in its path. It reached my patch of curly red hair and parted it to fondle the lips beneath. Parting them, I pushed the hood back that covered my button. Warm water caressed my clit as I tentatively touched it. The touch caused an electric shock to course through my body.
I pressed further and my pearl hardened like a little dick. Rubbing it, my arousal became stronger. My imagination had Cleo doing what my hands were. I pushed my fingers lower to press inside my vagina. It tightened and pulled at my finger. As one hand pulled and pinched at my nipples, I started to masturbate slowly. My thumb rubbing my clit, I pressed my index and middle finger inside searching for my gspot. No matter how I follow instructions in those sex manuals trying to find it, I am never successful. I really do think it’s a myth that some women just elaborate on to show off.
Fucking my vagina with my two fingers while my right hand tweaked at my nipples, I felt my peak nearing. My pulse raced and my insides throbbed as it got closer and closer till finally, with the picture of Cleo in my mind, my body ejaculated my juice into my left palm. Trembles went through me and my breath gasped deep in my throat until I finished climaxing. It may have been my Catholic upbringing that made me blush all over at what I had done. I don’t mean the masturbating but thinking of a woman while doing it.
I wondered how I would get through the night but was also looking forward to seeing Cleo away from her gardening. Hopping out of the bath, I dried and creamed my body before donning my underwear. Walking into the bedroom, I found my suit in the closet. Taking the slim line pants, I pulled them up my legs and over my hips. The style made my body look slimmer. I wasn’t fat but curvy and my height did nothing to help. I was only 5′ 4″ in my stockinged feet. A cream colored camisole went on top with a shirt top matching the burgundy pants rounding off the ensemble. The outfit was made from silk and felt fabulous against my skin. Returning to the bathroom, I put the brush through my shoulder length curls. A touch of lipstick and I was ready to finish the outfit off with my sandals. I checked myself in the closet mirror and thought that though I would win no beauty contest, I wasn’t too hard on the eyes.
I know I should have had something substantial for supper, my stomach couldn’t face it. A bowl of fresh fruit salad was the trick, and I was just washing the empty bowl when my door zonguldak escort bayan knocker beckoned. I called out to Cleo to come on in as the door wasn’t locked and then bent to the cupboard to retrieve two wine glasses. As I picked up the glasses, I looked back at the doorway to see a pair of beautiful green eyes riveted on my behind. I slowly straightened and turned with a smile to greet my visitor properly.
“Here let me take that from you,” I told Cleo as I took the heavy carton from her arms and deposited it on the kitchen table.
The girl looked so sexy in her jeans and halter neck top. She was left with two wine bottles in one hand which she waved at me pronouncing them to be her mother’s plum wine. I directed her to the utensil drawer to locate the cork opener. Cleo set down one bottle on the counter near the drawer and placed the other in the fridge. As she walked back to the opener and the wine, I watched and marveled at the way she walked. A panther once again sprang to mind. She could walk over hot coals juggling knives and still look graceful doing it.
Suddenly I realized that she was looking at me with the wine opened and ready to pour. I passed her the two glasses I had got out earlier, and she poured us each a measure.
“Cheers,” she toasted as she drew the glass to her lips.
I smiled and took a sip. My eyes widened in surprise.
“Mmmmmmmm! This is delicious,” I declared.
“It’s also very potent,” Cleo warned me.
“Well, shall we opt for comfort and sit on the sofa to look at your work?”
“Sounds right to me,” she laughed as she picked up the carton once again.
I took her glass from her to carry with mine into the lounge room. I grabbed the wine bottle and the wine cooler as well, and we headed to the next room. Cleo had put the carton on the rug next to the coffee table and was extracting albums which she placed on the table. I sat near her and put the wine and glasses on the table next to the books. The young photographer came and sat beside me with the first album in her hand. She held the album on my lap so I could see the photos as she pointed them out and told me about each one. My pulse quickened having her hand so close to my now throbbing vagina.
She was leaning so close to me I could feel the warmth of her body through the sleeve of my top. I breathed in her scent. The musky smell of Obsession filled my senses and made me a little giddy. Cleo continued to describe each photo completely unaware of the turmoil she was causing my senses. I took a mental hold of myself and focused my attention to her work.
The pictures were taken in the Mojave Desert. The way she had made use of all the earthy colors was fantastic, and I could see she was extremely talented. I told her so, and she gave me the most beautiful smile. I wanted so badly to take her in my arms and hold her tight and kiss that sexy mouth. We both turned back to the album, and she turned the page. I noticed that once again there was a photograph featuring a cute redhead. She was around the same age as Cleo. She was cute and curvy and had a very open face and sweet smile. I asked Cleo if it was a fellow student in photography and noticed a sad look pass through her jade eyes.
“That’s Angela. She was a friend and a room mate while I was at college. We aren’t in touch anymore,” Cleo informed me before changing the subject back to the photos.
Sensing her unhappiness, I wondered, a little jealously, if they were more than just friends. The first album was finished now so I offered to grab a snack while we had a stretch and filled our glasses again. I was on my third drink by now and felt a little light headed as I stood. Making my way to the kitchen to fetch the cheese and crackers, I looked in the mirror above the fireplace to see Cleo standing to stretch her long limbs. Like a cat stretching, she looked so sensual.
I took the cheese platter from the fridge. Removing the plastic wrap, I put the bowl of crackers on the side and carried it all to the lounge room. Cleo was standing in front of the fire looking at the Dresden figures on the mantelpiece.
“They were my mothers,” I told her making her jump a little.
“They are beautiful, especially this one of the girl with auburn hair,” She commented.
“Yes, it looks a little like your friend in the photo,” I said just noticing.
“I was thinking more like you,” Cleo stated eyeing me up and down.
I blushed a little as the figurine was really beautiful, and though I knew I was okay, I certainly would never have described myself as beautiful.
She laughed and added. “Why do I get the impression that you don’t realize just how beautiful you are, Nerida?”
I blushed even deeper and said, “Because I’m not.”
I picked up a napkin from the table and offered her the napkin and some food. As she took the serviette from my hand, our fingers touched. It was like I had a live wire but in such a good way. Cleo helped herself to a slice of camembert and a cracker and returned escort zonguldak to the sofa. Sipping from her glass, she washed down the cheese and cracker. I sat next to her again leaving an inch or two space between us. She leaned across me, and I could feel the swell of her breast as it grazed my arm. Taking the next album, she moved closer to me again and once more held the book on my lap.
I took the book in my hands so she would be free to move her hand away. She put it on the back of the sofa behind me. This meant her breast would rub across my shoulder and arm every time she pointed to something on the left side of the album. My breath would catch every time she did. A few times, I thought I sensed her smelling my hair but then thought it was more likely my imagination running away again.
By the time we had finished the second album, my senses were running wild. At this stage Cleo must have decided to take things in her own graceful hands. Putting her left hand on my right shoulder, she turned me around.
“Nerida, I have a confession to make,” She started. “I have been attracted to you from the moment I first cast my eyes on you in your garden. At first I tried to ignore it because you remind me a little in looks to Angela, and I thought it may have been a rebound thing. But I know that isn’t the case now. I am not sure about your sexual preferences. Dad was very vague when I tried to grill him. So if you are hetero, please accept my apology.”
“But,” she added. “I have a feeling that you are as attracted to me as I am to you.”
“I.. I.. I’ve never…” I stuttered.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Cleo said sadly as she turned away.
“No,” I said holding her as she started to rise.
“Let me finish please,” I implored.
She turned with a part smile and sat back next to me.
I finished. “I’ve always been straight. Apart from some giddy teenage stuff at the Catholic boarding school I attended, I’ve never been with a woman. I’d never even thought about it. But since you came back to the island, I have thought of nothing else.”
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief that I had gotten it out. Then I turned to look at her. Taking my face gently between her hands, she said, “Honey, I promise I’ll be gentle.”
We both giggled, and then she ever so gently kissed my lips like they were delicate porcelain. I tentatively kissed her back and found the experience really good. The tip of her tongue softly touched my lips, tasting them as it traced the outline of them. I groaned with a building desire then opened my eyes. Cleo’s green eyes were looking straight into mine.
She smiled with her eyes and stopped kissing me… tasting me long enough to ask me. “You okay, Nerida? We can stop if you would like.”
But I didn’t like. I was so aroused that I didn’t want to ever stop. I pulled her mouth back to mine, entwining my fingers through her hair. Our tongues met touching, tasting, twisting around each others. One of her hands had found my left breast and was gently caressing it, teasing the nipple softly with a fingertip.
“I love your breasts,” she mumbled into my mouth as we kissed.
I certainly loved what she was doing to them even through my camisole. Suddenly she stopped everything and pulled back from me. I let out a load moan.
“Nerida, honey, we have to slow down. Take it slowly.”
A sad look swept across my face and she took my hands in hers and smiled.
“I’m not saying we have to stop, honey. But if you want that I will. What I am saying is we need to slow down and do this right. Now, sweetie, stop and take a sip of your drink and then take a minute to really think if this is what you want.”
She passed me my glass, and I obediently took a sip. Our eyes met across the rim of the glass, and I knew what I was feeling was a lot more than lust. I put my glass back on the table and stood. Taking her hand in mine, I silently led her to my bedroom. Reaching the side of the bed, I turned into her arms.
“Oh, Nerida love, I have wanted you from the moment I set eyes on you. It was like someone had hit me with a sledge hammer; it was so strong and sudden.”
As she talked, we were each undoing the others clothing. I undid the ties to her top and it dropped between us. My eyes were riveted to her beautiful breasts. Much smaller than my big jugs, hers were about a C cup and still pert. Her nipples were a chocolate brown with large areolas. My hands reached for them, and I gently tweaked at each nipple before taking the whole breasts in my hands. They felt so soft.
Meanwhile Cleo had rid me of my shirt and was now lifting my camisole over my head. I reluctantly let go of her mounds so she could rid me of the top. As my hands went back to her nipples, she reached around me to unclasp my bra. My large globes now free of their confinement, swung free. Cleo groaned and bent to suckle on my pendulous breasts.
“I love your breasts, Nerida. Just the sight of them makes me want to suckle at them.” The young lady mumbled between licking and sucking at my nipples. Her tongue was driving me wild with lust. My fingers entwined in her hair at the back of her head, pulling her mouth on to my boobs. She licked and sucked at each in turn, till they were hard as steel and poking out a good half inch. We then pulled each others trousers down and I gasped at her naked body. She was so beautiful.
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