My Old Flame

I got a little scared when I felt her fingers slip beneath the waistband of my pants. I scrabbled at her wrist and grabbed it. She paused her hand for maybe 30 seconds, just holding it there. She increased the pressure of her mouth on mine, then subtly started slipping her hand down again. That time I let her. I felt her fingers trail through my bushy pubes, then it felt as if a tongue of fire shot through my body as she touched my pussy. Whether by luck or design, her finger had landed straight on my clitoris. She slid several fingers into my tight slit and began to stroke me. I heard a sort of whining noise, and realised it was coming from me.

I'm afraid I completely forgot about stroking Jack's boob, or doing anything else for her, at that point. I felt guilty about that later. I clung to her shoulders with my hands, pulling her down on me, my whole body pushing up at her, desperate for her to continue to give me the unbelievable feelings of ecstasy that she was creating in my pussy. I felt as if I was burning up. I was aware of a building sensation, almost like a kettle boiling. Then suddenly my whole body spasmed, nearly throwing Jack off me, and my thighs locked together, trapping her hand inside me, as the most incredible waves of electricity flared up me, over and over. My hips jerked at her time after time, and I buried my face in her shoulder and screamed.

Afterwards I started to feel very tired, and I suddenly wanted very much to be at home, in my bed. Jack seemed to understand that instinctively. She kissed me gently, stroking my hair and wiping tears from my cheeks, then stood and, rearranging her blouse, said, "Come on I'll walk you back down the hill." I was glad of that -- I had never walked around in the council estate during daylight hours, let alone at night. When we got close to the vicarage, Jack pulled me into the shade of a tree and gave me a full-blooded French kiss. Then, looking slightly worried, she whispered, "We will do that again, won't we Suze?" Biting my lip I nodded, not sure if I meant it, then I ran into my home. I tucked my head around the sitting room door to say hello to my parents, then dashed up to bed. Later that night I slipped my hand between my legs, and tried to re-create the feelings Jack had given me. I managed only a pale imitation.

We did do it again, of course -- two days later. On that occasion Jack didn't give me the slightest choice where we went. A tension crackled between us the day after that first time, and as I got off Jack's bike in the evening, she simply said, "Tell your folks you're studying with your mate again tomorrow night." After that she took total control. She met me out of school the next evening as usual, and I meekly followed her to a greasy spoon café where we both had sausage, egg and chips. Then Jack rode back to her house, took my hand and led me straight up the stairs to her bedroom. She briskly stripped me down to my pants, then took all her clothes off. My head was in a whirl, and I just stood and raised my arms and legs when instructed to allow her to do it.

Finally, she knelt in front of me and slipped my drawers down my legs. I jumped as she reached around me and clutched my buttocks in her hands, and buried her nose in the top of my pussy and inhaled deeply. Then she stood and, giving me an encouraging smile, eased me under the covers of her narrow bed and got in with me. We went through much the same stages as before -- the increasingly passionate kisses, Jack sucking my boobs while I stroked hers, her fingers tickling around my pussy lips, although she didn't actually enter me at first. I had seen her naked before, but never really held her. It felt strange at first, then increasingly enjoyable, her cool flesh pressing against mine, her little boobs rubbing mine, her pubes tickling against me.

After she had given both my boobs an extensive suck, I felt her squirming further down my body. I suddenly felt scared and a little confused. I asked, "Jack, what are you doing? What...oh heck!" Jesus, that's what I actually said the first time someone started to eat me out -- heck! It took me totally by surprise. I suppose I had sort of worked out that girls kissed each other there, but I had never thought about it happening to me. If I had thought Jack's fingers swirling about in my pussy was lovely, I was totally unprepared for the combination of her tongue licking at my raw flesh while her fingers stroked my clit and labia. The skin of my entire body tingled, and I felt levels of joy I hadn't dreamed it was possible to experience. I writhed and squirmed under her, Jack holding me down as I bucked to my second screaming, sobbing orgasm.

I lay temporarily exhausted as she tickled my boobs with her fingers and planted butterfly kisses on my face. Then she whispered, "Suze, it'd be nice if you did something for me." I knew that was coming. I rolled on top of her and tried to give her the same pleasure she'd given me, twice. I kissed her deeply, and sucked her boobs. They felt harder than I would have expected, her nipples like peanuts. I enjoyed the sensation though. She murmured, "Bleeding hell" when I slipped my hand between her legs. I pushed two fingers inside her and began to pump them in and out, kissing her and squeezing her boob with my other hand. As she started to heat up her pale face turned red and her knees rose, her legs doubled up. She grabbed my wrist and started pushing my hand into her deeper, faster. Then she yelped, and I felt her pussy lips tighten around my fingers and an increased intensity in the warm wetness inside her.

She smiled at me, her eyes shining, and gave me an almost sisterly kiss on the lips and a hug. Rolling me onto my side, she lay facing me and said, "Thanks Suze, I...really like you. I think you're so lovely." Feeling a mixture of pleasure for the joy I'd given her, and my usual embarrassment at receiving any personal compliment, I told her I thought she was lovely too. We kissed and cuddled for a while longer, and I ended up rubbing myself to another small orgasm on Jack's thigh. Then we dressed and returned downstairs. I was shocked to see a woman, several years younger than my mother, sitting at the kitchen table smoking. She had blonde hair with dark roots, and glanced at me with dead eyes. Jack flushed and said, "Oh, mum, I didn't think you were coming back tonight. This is my friend, Susannah. We were just, er..." The woman stared at me without speaking. I knew with terrible certainty that she had no illusions about her daughter; that she knew exactly what we 'were just'.

Jack and I both finished school shortly after that. I had four good A Levels and my secure place at the University of East Surrey, Jack had one A Level and no intention of ever studying again. That summer the weather was glorious, and we spent as much time in each other's company as possible. We went down to Brighton again -- I still refused to take my bikini bottoms off on the naturist beach -- and we went on other trips. We made love at every opportunity. It was usually in the open air, so the most we could do was, kiss, suck each other's boobs and frig each other, without removing our clothes. But a few times we slipped into Jack's house when it was empty and went to bed together. I loved those times. She sucked my pussy until it ached, and I became quite skilled at making her come with my hands.

The one thing I never did was lick her out, the way she so lovingly did for me. I did try once -- my face was within inches of her slit, the pale pink lips peering out between her ginger hairs -- but I just couldn't bring myself to press my face to her. I rose back up the bed with tears running down my cheeks, and whined, "I'm sorry Jack, I just can't, I really can't."

She gave me a brave smile, and kissed me. "That's okay Suze. I love you letting me do it to you, and I love what you do for me."

We never talked about what would happen when the summer was over. Neither of us wanted to think about it. Three weeks before I was due to leave for uni, we did finally discuss it, in a café on the way back from a lovely day out. I tentatively suggested that Jack could get a job near the university, and we could get a flat together. She snorted in derision. "I told you once before Suze, I want to travel -- see the world. I don't want to be tied down for years while you ponce around with your student friends." She gripped both of my hands over the table, and stared intently at me. "Don't go to university -- come with me." I stared at her as if she was mad. I had known for years I was going to get a degree, and really make something of my life. I had no idea what, though.

We dropped the conversation at that point, but we both knew the discussion wasn't over, and things started to get tense between us. Finally, after we'd made love one day in Jack's bed -- for the last time as it turned out -- we sat at her kitchen table, and she said, "I've decided. I'm going up to London on Saturday. A mate's agreed to put me up, and she'll let you stay if you want to as well."

I shook my head, not understanding. "I couldn't commute from there to uni, it's too far."

Jack sighed in exasperation. "Suze, I'm asking you not to go to university. Come with me instead. We can get away from this stuck-up little community, and live together without anyone calling us names and shunning us, like they would here, or in East bloody Surrey."

I was stunned by the very idea. "But what would I do if I didn't go to uni? How would we live -- toss burgers in McDonalds?"

Jack looked at me bleakly. "We'd get jobs to tide us over at first, but...it'd only be temporary Suze. I want to travel, and I want you with me. We'll have fun. God, you're so conventional -- go to uni like mummy and daddy want you to, become a fucking lawyer or something, or maybe marry a nice young vicar just like Daddy..."

I shook my head vehemently, "I won't be marrying any bloody vicar."

Jack waved her hand, irritated at the interruption. "Whatever! Suze, I...I love you. I mean really love you. And I want us to be together. Please. I know you love me too."

I had never felt more confused. I had always wanted to get a degree; suddenly I didn't know what I wanted any more. And I didn't understand why Jack was being so selfish, why she wouldn't be happy to live with me while I studied. Without really thinking what I was saying, I blurted, "Jack I love...what we do together, and I really like you, but I don't love you. Girls can't love each other, not in that way, not really."

She looked as if she was about to cry. I'd never seen Jack like that before. She gazed at me as if I was the biggest idiot on earth (which I was!), and slowly stood and walked to the kitchen door. Then she turned, and said, "Well, that's it then," and walked out. I let myself out of the kitchen feeling as if someone had torn a huge hole in my stomach. As I walked down the garden path I heard her call me. She said, in a voice trembling with emotion, "I'll be leaving here on the bike at nine a.m. on Saturday. I'll have your helmet ready. Please come with me. I meant it Suze, I'm in love with you." Then she closed the door. On the Saturday morning I lay in bed, tears streaming down my face. Shortly after nine I heard a motor bike of some kind revving its engine in the street outside my bedroom window. Then it roared off.

I never did get my degree. Three months into my first year, I got word during a lecture that my father had had a stroke. I was surprised how devastated I felt. I really didn't like him, but -- well, he was my father, and I suppose deep down I did love him. Mum didn't cope very well, she just withdrew into herself. I ended up pretty much looking after both of them, in the tiny cottage we moved into. I helped the new vicar too. He was a nice chap, quite a bit older than me. We increasingly spent a lot of time in each other's company, and we laughed a lot together, and...I cursed myself on my wedding day. After years of promising myself I would have nothing more to do with the Church, I was only ending up marrying a sodding vicar -- just like Jack predicted, damn her.

I was deeply, hopelessly in love with Jack, of course I was. I was just too much of a stupid little prig to admit it, even to myself; too scared, when push came to shove, of breaking out of the conventional strait-jacket I'd been brought up in, and actually starting to make my own decisions. I cried for weeks after she rode out of my life. Over the years I've worked hard at forgetting her, but I never really did. Especially in recent years, not a month has gone by when I haven't thought about Jack, even shed a few tears, recalled the feel of her hands -- and her mouth -- on my body, wondered where she was, how she was doing, how it would have been if I'd just got up and gone with her that sunny Saturday morning. What might have happened if I'd told her I loved her too, instead of denying it, even to myself. And now, suddenly, I know exactly where she is: back in my old village, living five minutes walk from my home. I don't know how she feels about me, after so long, and the way I abandoned her. But I know now that I'm still in love with her, at least, with the Jack I knew 25 years ago -- and it scares the shit out of me.