Educating Anne Ch. 5

Kate and Anne walked leisurely down the surprisingly busy main street. For a small island town, Vicerona had a busy, cosmopolitan feel to it. They had dined very well at a seafood restaurant, and had even tracked down a cyber-café, where they had both managed to e-mail home.

Throughout dinner, Anne had continued to be intrigued by Anne's remark about wanting her to meet someone, but hadn't pressed her for further explanation. It was while they were having their post-meal liqueurs that Anne learned, for the first time, that Kate had visited the island before. It had been two years previously – Kate had spent two nights on the island with the wife of a colleague of Philip's, while the two men were at a conference in Florence.

So she knew the town quite well, and she was leading Anne confidently through some of the narrow, winding alleys as dusk, by now, settled rapidly over the surrounding hills. Kate was chattering brightly as she walked purposefully along, and Anne was happy to let her companion's chatter wash over her as she looked around and took in the unfamiliar ambience of her surroundings.

Then Kate stopped, suddenly, at the bottom of a flight of stone steps, leading upwards, steeply, to an old stone chapel, perched high above them. She peered up, into the gathering gloom, then said – "Yes. This is it."

Taking Anne's hand, she began to climb the steps. Anne felt a little uncomfortable with her hand in Kate's. This had never happened before, and she was sure she could sense an element of tension in Kate's grip on her. Kate was not someone who indulged in casual physical contact – despite her recently-revealed enthusiasm for physical contact of the more intimate kind.

Kate had told Anne, often enough, how attractive she thought her and had not retreated from specific compliments about Anne's breasts and bottom. Kate's last visit here had been with another women – could it be, Anne thought, with a rising sense of panic, that somewhere up here there was some sort of Lesbian club, which Kate had decided Anne was now ready for? Maybe she had decided that Anne was now ready for Kate, herself?

Anne's worst fears re-doubled as Kate stopped halfway up the steps, dragging Anne into a dimly-lit alley, on the left side of which stood a door, covered with a bamboo curtain. Kate knocked twice, while Anne stared around for some sign of what went on here, but there wasn't a light, or another soul, to be seen.

The door opened slightly, and Kate spoke a few quick words of Italian to the unseen person within. The door opened a fraction more, and the two women slipped through.

Anne found herself in a narrow, low hallway, hung with Chinese silks. The very old oriental-looking woman who had let them in scuttled away behind a curtain on the right. To their left, was a partially-closed door, behind which Anne could hear the faint strains of Oriental music and the low murmur of voices. With relief, she realised that the voices were mixed – not exclusively female. Kate squeezed her hand, reassuringly, then released it and pushed the door ajar.

Anne looked in astonishment through the open door at the huge room beyond. It was so big, she could not see the far wall. Low-ceilinged, hung with silks and lanterns, a pall of smoke was shifting lazily around, propelled by massive slow-moving ceiling fans. And the room was packed. There were no tables or chairs. Everyone was standing, or sitting in little groups on brightly-coloured rugs. All along the right-hand wall stretched a bar counter, where the crowds were five or six deep, and a dozen or so red-jacketed waiters rushed around with trays of drinks.

Inside the room, the chatter was almost deafening. The vast majority of the customers were Orientals and male, but there were also Europeans of both sexes – and some very attractive doe-eyed Chinese girls in silk dresses with slits up to the tops of their thighs.

Suddenly, Kate let out an excited gasp and grabbed Anne's hand.

"He's here!" she exclaimed and, pulling Anne behind her, began to push her way through the throng. Somehow, Anne knew that "he" was the man Kate had mentioned on the beach – the man she wanted Anne to meet. And she knew why Kate wanted her to meet him.

Anne's insides liquefied and her legs trembled. She tried to pull away from Kate's hand, but Kate's grip was inexorable and Anne stumbled along in her wake, her heart beating like a triphammer.

A group of men were squatting in a dimly-lit corner, playing mah-jong. Kate slowed down and stopped, looking down at them. One of them, younger than the others, looked up. He looked about thirty. Like many of the men, he was clad in a full-length silk caftan, which buttoned to the neck and reached right down to his feet. His was magnificent, in a green and gold whirl design.

He had long black hair, tumbling around his shoulders. His cheekbones were high, his jaw strong, his eyes slanted beneath thin dark brows. In the dim light, the colour of his eyes was not discernible, but the way they lit up when he saw Kate, and the delighted flash of his white, even teeth as he smiled broadly, illuminated even that dark corner.

He rolled his pieces on to the rug, shrugging his shoulders and spreading his hands to his companions. Philosophically, unhurriedly, they gathered up the game and melted away into the surrounding crowd.

Kate dropped to the floor on his right-hand side and, looking up into his face, breathed "Hi."

"Kate!" he responded, raising a finely-manicured hand with long fine fingers to caress her cheek. His mouth descended, slowly, on hers and, as their lips met, Kate's eyes fluttered shut and her left hand disappeared into his flowing black hair. They kissed, Anne thought, like lovers of long standing, but for whom the passion had never grown dim.

After about a minute, Kate, with an obvious effort, broke off the kiss, and looked up at Anne, who was still standing. She motioned her to sit down and Anne dropped to the rug, facing the couple.

"This is David," smiled Kate. "Don't ask me why. What's not Chinese is Italian, but David is his name. David, this is Anne."

For the first time, Anne saw the colour of his eyes. They were gold, with all the warmth of the summer sun. As they fell on her, Anne felt as if the sun's rays were warming her whole body. His scrutiny was frank, but not obtrusive. It took in every detail of her face and body, under the cool yellow summer dress, and his lips parted in a smile of pure appreciation, under which Anne found herself basking, like a cat. Involuntarily, her lips parted in an answering smile.

David turned to Kate and spoke for quite a long time, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two women, bright with pleasure and admiration. As he finished, Kate laughed softly.

"What did he say?" Anne breathed.

"Oh," laughed Kate. "He likes you. That's not quite what he said – but it's what he meant!"

As she spoke, David's hand had slipped slowly, unhurriedly, into the open neck of Kate's dress. She kept her eyes on Anne as she allowed it unhindered progress down to her breast. Anne watched, fascinated, as the backs of his fingers, then his hand, disappeared under the thin material, then she saw Kate suddenly bite her bottom lip, gently, as his finger-ends made contact with her nipple.

Again, Kate's eyes fluttered shut as, beneath her dress, Anne watched his hand begin to stroke Kate's breast. Her own mouth was drying as she imagined what the long sensitive fingers were doing. Kate's eyes opened again and, her head resting on David's shoulder, she reached out a hand, palm uppermost, towards Anne, the back of her hand resting on one of David's knees, as he sat cross-legged, his eyes fixed on the opening at the top of Kate's dress.

Hesitantly, Anne reached a hand out in response. Anne took hold of it by the wrist, then guided it down between David's knees. With a sense of shock, Anne suddenly felt the rigid protuberance standing erect under the silk of his caftan. Instinctively, she tried to pull her hand away, but Kate held it firmly and, after a second, Anne reached down again and closed her fingers gently round his shaft.

Slowly, he turned his head to look at her and, as he did so, Kate took hold of his wrist and eased his hand out of her dress. He smiled at her, quickly, then locked eyes with Anne, and his head bent towards her.

His lips on hers were firm, but soft, his tongue flickering expertly inside her mouth. The touch of his fingers on her neck was expected, as was the graceful descent to the upper slope of her left breast. Her nipples were painfully erect before his fingers found the left one and made her gasp as he teased it, sending pulses of warmth through her. Then his hand was caressing her full breast, and her own hand was gripping his erection tightly.

Anne became dimly aware that she was being gently pulled to her feet. Leaning trustingly against David, she let him lead her through a passage and into a small quiet room. A red-shaded lamp burned in a corner. A huge down-filled quilt lay on the floor. There was no sign of Kate as David stepped back from Anne, keeping hold of her shoulders.

Suddenly shy, she looked up and met his eyes and marvelled, once again, at their unique colour and the depth of expression in them. His smile reassured her and she watched, tranquilly, as he unbuttoned the neck of his caftan, then, with a graceful, panther-like shrug, let it fall to the floor. Underneath, he was naked.

He was tall, and slim, and his body was practically hairless, only a downy crest of black curls at the base of his belly complementing the tumble of long tresses which fell to his shoulders. His penis, like him, was long – very long – but slender, although fully erect. He was uncircumcised.

His hands were now working expertly on Anne's dress and she felt no apprehension as it slid to the floor, revealing her full naked breasts. He leant forward and brushed his dry lips against her nipples, and she shuddered in pleasure. Then his thumbs slid under the elastic of Anne's panties and he gently drew them down, kneeling and sighing his appreciation as her flaxen pubic mound was revealed.

His mouth darted forward and he lightly kissed Anne's belly, just above the top of her pubic triangle. Then his hands rose and softly caressed the rounded cheeks of her bottom as his mouth slid downwards and started planting butterfly kisses on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

Anne sank downwards and lay back on the soft yielding quilt. Her nipples were aching and, unselfconsciously, she raised her hands to touch and tease them, at the same time allowing her thighs to part in open invitation. She felt his tongue flicker against the moist lips of her vagina and, for the first time, a small moan escaped her. Her fingers tightened round her breasts and she squeezed them, savagely, providing a counterpoint of ecstatic pain to the painless ecstasy of his tongue, now rigidly probing the very entrance to her sex.

Then the tip of his finger brushed against her engorged clitoris, and she gasped as sensation after sensation flooded through her. She began to writhe on the soft down, her vagina aching, now, to be filled, but his hands reached up and held her shoulders, his fingers stroking the soft hollows beside her collarbones. Dimly, she wondered how she knew she loved that particular caress – then she became aware that his body was moving towards her, his chest sliding up over her flat stomach.

Quickly, she removed her hands from her breasts so she could feel the sensation of his naked chest pressing on them, but, just as it made that first delicious contact and she raised her own chest to push the pulsating warmth of her breasts against him, she felt the tip of his erection glide against her inner thigh.

Her heart leapt into her mouth in anticipation, and she closed her eyes. Her entire body seemed to be covered with sensitive nerve-ends, and every contact brought new heights of tantalising delight. His lips were now caressing her neck, then his teeth lightly gripped the base of her earlobe.

Anne was aware, now, that her moans had become constant, her whole body, covered in a light film of perspiration, continually moving, her legs spread wide, her vagina aching for the completion of this act.

Then, it was there – the head of his long penis expertly thrusting between her splayed lips. Anne's moans were silenced as she held her breath, concentrating her whole being on the incredible sensation as his penis pushed further and further inside her. It seemed as if it would never stop – Anne had not thought it possible that she could be penetrated so deeply. Then, with a final thrust, he had his whole length inside her, and Anne exhaled with the utter pleasure of it.

She sighed with disappointment at his partial withdrawal, then relaxed in pleasure as he entered her fully again. Her legs spread wider and she hooked her ankles round the backs of his muscular thighs as he began to ride her, rhythmically. But his mouth and hands never ceased teasing and tantalising the million erogenous nerve-ends screaming for attention all over her body. He always seemed to be aware, in advance, where the next caress, or kiss, or bite was most needed and, as the passion grew inexorably in her, Anne was almost totally unaware of time and place – conscious only of the ever-increasing onset of the volcanic eruption building inside her.

Then, as his rod plunged deeply into her once again, he held it there, his pubic bone grinding against the girl's ultra-sensitive clitoris – and the dam burst. Anne's whole body stiffened and shook and her moans turned into a long gasp, which became a scream of sensual ecstasy. Her legs clamped round the man's lean hips, she clutched him to her as she writhed in passionate abandon beneath him, her head flailing wildly from side to side.

It seemed to go on for minutes and when, at last, her climax subsided, Anne felt utterly satisfied, and completely drained and exhausted. She lay back on the soft, enveloping quilt, and David pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down at her, smiling.

Then he bent forward and gently kissed the base of her neck, and Anne's eyes snapped open. She gave a tiny shudder of pleasure, and he did it again, this time allowing his tongue to lap softly against the sensitive skin. She shuddered again, and sighed – then gasped as his still hard cock flexed itself within her.

His lips moved to her right nipple and his hand closed round her shoulder, stroking it. Unbelieving, Anne felt her desire re-awakening. She reached her hands up and pulled his mouth to hers, kissing it hard, her tongue thrusting through his teeth. Her body began to move in time with his again and, within seconds, incredibly, she again on the brink of orgasm.

She abandoned herself to a delicious world of pure physical sensation. Once again, a massive climax hit her but, this time, at its conclusion, she pushed at the man's chest, turning him on his back, and straddled him, his cock still gripped deep within her, and began to ride him with what seemed to be endless energy. As she raised herself up and down on him, she mauled her own breasts with a painful abandon until he reached up and began to squeeze them savagely, twisting her erect nipples in a way which, at any other time, would have had her begging – pleading for mercy.

But now, it only heightened the already almost unbearable excitement, and a third massive climax hit her – then a fourth – and then she began to lose count …

When she regained consciousness, it was to find Kate leant over her, shaking her shoulder gently, and smiling. David had gone. Anne had never felt such ineffable peace – she was completely fulfilled. She smiled back at her friend and, uncomplainingly, allowed herself to be dressed and led out of the now deserted club into the quiet early morning. A taxi stood outside and, within fifteen minutes, Anne was fast asleep in her bed at the little seaside hotel ...

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The following morning, the two women hoisted their packs over their shoulders and set off at a fairly gentle strolling pace along the dusty road, in the general direction of Vicenzio, the main town on the small island, where Kate had booked their passage back to the mainland on a small passenger ferry. The sun was high, but there was a gentle breeze, and walking was comfortable. There was little traffic, only the occasional farm vehicle passing by, with the inevitable friendly wave from the driver,

Both women were in shirts and shorts, with good walking shoes and, even with the gradient against them, made good progress. They walked, mainly, in silence. Anne, especially, had a lot to think about. What she had done, and been through, in the last 48 hours was nothing short of astonishing, and Anne was busy with her own thoughts – many of which, strangely enough, were still centred on Kate, who had been almost solely responsible for what Anne was beginning to see as her own sexual liberation. But, despite the vivid and pleasurable recollections of the previous night's incredible experience, many of Anne's thoughts were still troubled.

Why, she thought to herself, shouldn't a woman enjoy her sexual side, without all that guilt getting in the way? Anne remembered, again, the thrill of feeling Philip's erection pressing against her while his tongue explored the inside of her mouth and his hands moved sensuously over her breasts. Once again, she felt moist between her thighs, then angry when she thought about how stuffy English convention had almost immediately spoiled her pleasure with a huge load of guilt.

She hadn't even been able to think about alone, in her bed, without guilt and shame crowding in on her, to the point where she had so disciplined her mind that she had practically succeeded in forgetting about the incident altogether.

And, all that time, Philip and Kate had been discussing it, and fantasising about it. Fantasising about Anne's naked body, and what Philip might have done if he had a longer time with her. And now, Kate said, after they got home, Anne could visit them and … Anne visualised herself spread out naked on the rug in Kate's lounge, with Kate gently spreading her legs while Philip stood looking down at her, gently stroking a huge hard cock with one hand, while he waited for her to be made ready …

She realised Kate was talking to her.

"Sorry," she said, grateful that her face was already red with the effort of walking.

"I wonder what you were thinking about?" laughed Kate. Anne smiled an embarrassed smile, but Kate didn't pursue it.

"I said I could do with a break," said Kate. "I'm not as young and fit as you – and, anyway, I also need a drink."

"OK," said Anne, and shrugged off her pack before squatting at the side of the road, her back against a rough farm wall. Kate rummaged in her pack and pulled out one of the two bottles of red wine they had brought from the taverna. Opening one, she took a deep draught from the neck of the bottle, then passed it to Anne. Anne took a slightly more refined swallow, and sighed contentedly.

"We're not halfway up this hill yet," commented Kate, adding "I'd like to be in Vicenzio before six o'clock, if we're to find somewhere to stay the night." Anne glanced at her watch. It showed quarter to four – later than she had thought.

"We can put a bit of a spurt, if you like," she said, easily. "We've been going quite slowly."

"Maybe you can," retorted her companion "but that's more or less top speed for me – at least, on this side of the bloody hill! I might be a bit better going down – if you'll pardon the expression!"

They both laughed, Kate a bit more heartily than Anne, as they picked up their belongings, ready to set off again. Kate took a last slug from the bottle, then re-corked it, but kept it in her hand as they started the ascent again. Paying more attention now, Anne became aware that Kate was flagging a little, and tailored her pace to suit her companion.