The Lesbian Nights Pt. 03

Note 1: This is a work of fiction and the characters depicted herein are purely figments of my own imagination; any resemblance to any other persons, real or fictional, is entirely coincidental and unintended. And, on the advice of a good friend, this work is copyrighted. To me. I own this, so don't steal it.

Note 2: This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults. Although entirely fictional, the characters are all over the age of 18.

Note 3: This story contains themes that some may find objectionable, including golden showers, cross dressing and mild kink. These themes are included for two reasons: 1) some readers are really into such topics and they deserve to have writers throw them a bone or two occasionally ;-) and 2) they are a natural progression of the story and help to develop the main character and to show the extent of her openness to all things depraved and sexual.

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Catherine D'Boudec went by the cottage several times over the next week and a half, but it was clear that Kelly, her American tenant, had not returned from her trip to Belfast. The high season had pretty much ended in the small, French coastal village of Dinard. The tourists from overseas, mostly British, had returned home to their jobs and busy lives and the few remaining continental tourists that lingered in the cafés and on the beaches had a subdued, almost somber affectation. It was as if they all did have something more important to be doing but were not quite ready to go home and start doing it yet.

Some of the seasonal shops had already closed and Catherine had been considering closing up the chateau and taking an extended, and much needed, holiday of her own... possibly in London where she could let her hair down, so to speak, among old friends and lovers. However, she had a late season booking by a couple of pensioners from Wales, so she stayed on dutifully. The chateau, a grand, eighteenth century house perched high on a hilltop overlooking the village that had been built by her great, great grandfather, had 14 bedrooms, ten of which were for rent as a chambre d'hôte, or bed and breakfast. Its grand staircases and towering corridors often seemed empty and gloomy to Catherine, especially on a foggy and unseasonably cool day like this one. Down in Nice, it was probably still 30c (87F) with plenty of sunshine, but up here on the North coast of Bretagne, the autumns came early.

The little cottage was locked up again today, with the shades drawn and the interior dark. Catherine sighed. The end of the month was a few days away and then Kelly would be yet another month behind of the rent. She needed to get this straightened out. At this point, she'd take even a partial payment. It wasn't even a matter of money; Catherine's inheritance would see that her children's children lived like kings. It was a matter of principal. In London, Catherine had been a ruthless and feared corporate solicitor with a reputation for her cunning negotiating skills. But here, in this silly little village by the sea, this American girl, with her dark curly hair and her soft, doe-like eyes and tight, fit body, had reduced Catherine to a stammering idiot. Catherine cursed herself because she knew that she should get tough with the girl, but she also knew that her own carnal lust would not let her do so out of fear of being cut off. Catherine was openly bisexual in London, but here in this town where everyone knew everyone else's business, Catherine felt repressed and stifled. Kelly, the wild little lesbian, had provided Catherine with an outlet to her sexual frustration.

Catherine walked back up the pathway to the big house wondering to herself whether her desire to see Kelly was more about her need to confront the girl about the delinquent rent balance, or more about being horny. "Peut-être, un peu des deux," she said to herself. "Maybe, a little of both."

That night, Catherine lay awake in bed. She was wrestling with her own angels when she heard a commotion from outside. Going to the window, she could just make out the little cottage at the far corner of the property. A light was on and she could just make out Kelly's form as she struggled to get all of her luggage in through the front door. "So, my little dilemma has returned," she thought to herself and went back to bed.

In the morning, the pensioners finished their petit-déjeuner quickly and announced that they were headed up the coast to the historic city of St. Malo for the day for sight-seeing and shopping. That left Catherine free for the day, so, once she finished making up the elderly couple's chamber, she decided to pay Kelly a visit. When she got to the cottage, she knocked, but received no answer. The door was unlocked, so she opened it, poked her head inside and called out. Still no answer. She saw Kelly's bicycle leaning in its usual spot by the shed. Thinking that Kelly might have walked down into the village, she started to head back to the chateau. She would try again later in the day, but, as she passed the walled garden, she heard the faint buzzing sound of music coming from someone else's headphones.

Catherine ducked inside the garden gate and saw Kelly stretched out on the grass near the pond in the center of the garden. She wore only a pair of over-sized lunettes and the bottoms of her bright yellow bikini. She was holding a paper-back book at an angle to block the morning sun while she read it. Her headphones were in and one foot was tapping at the air in time to music that only she could hear. Her smallish, but gravity-defying breasts were pointed hard and seemed to be reaching out for their own view. Catherine cursed the girl's youth. Her own breasts were much fuller, but they hadn't stood out on their own that way since she was in her twenties. Now in her thirties, they still got her plenty of looks, but there was no denying that the firmness of youth was fading.

Kelly did not realize Catherine was their until her shadow fell across the girl's face, causing her to startle and jump up. "Mon dieu!" she shouted! "Don't do that. I almost had a coronary!" Kelly sat on the grass with her hand over her heart, breathing heavily. After a few seconds, she laughed. She patted the grass next to her. "Tu peut asseoir," she said, playfully. "It is such a beautiful day. Join me. Let us worship le beau soleil, before it disappears for good.

Catherine didn't move. She stood, arms folded. "I thought you were just going to Belfast for the weekend. You have been gone for almost two weeks."

Kelly looked puzzled for a second, and then her face brightened. "Oh, yeah. Dierdre's birthday. It was great. But, since I had some time, I decided to go to Salzburg to return Sophie's dirndl."

"Sophie's what?" asked Catherine, "Who is Sophie?"

Kelly cocked her head. "Sophie... the girl in Austria..." she paused. "Didn't I tell you about Sophie?"

"No..." replied Catherine. She relented and sat down on the grass next to Kelly with her legs folded. "You told me about Vinka and Didi...." She thought for a moment... "and, Lucile, I think. But you never mentioned anyone named Sophie."

"Sophie was the waitress at the café in Augsburg. Didn't I mention the café?" Kelly began. "When I first arrived... where I met Didi. No? Well, when we were in the café, I remember that I told Didi that I had never been to Augsburg before and that the only time I had ever even been to Germany was to visit some friends in Stuttgart, but that I had always wanted to go to Oktoberfest in Munich. We were talking about it, and our waitress -- who turned out to be Sophie -- was from Austria. She said that I wouldn't like Oktoberfest in Munich because it was too crowded and too touristy. She said that, if I wanted to see an authentic beer festival, I should come to Salzburg on the last week of September.

"I was surprised when Didi agreed with her. Didi told me that she grew up in Munich and that her parents always scheduled a trip to go out of town for the Oktoberfest because it was awful to be in town for it. Crowds and traffic and nonsense. So, I took Sophie's email and telephone number and told her that if I ever decided to go to an authentic beer festival, I would call her and let her show me around.

"Months later, after I broke up with Didi, I went back to Belfast. When I unpacked my valise, I was going through my laundry and I found the café receipt with Sophie's name and contact on it. It was still the summer, so I just put it on my dresser and forgot about it. But when the autumn came that year, it rained nonstop in Belfast. It was like I had not seen the sun for weeks. I had to escape. I was trying to think of someplace I could go that would be fun, but not too expensive. That's when I saw Sophie's contact sitting on my dresser, right where I'd left it. On a whim, I sent her an email.

"She responded right away! Within minutes! She said she was excited to hear from me and that she didn't think I would remember her. She said she could get away for a few days and meet me in Salzburg if I still wanted to go. She said she would call around to her friends and see if we could make a party of it. It was exactly what I needed. So, I made the arrangements and a couple of days later, I was at the train station in Salzburg. I was a little disappointed because, when Sophie arrived, there was a boy with her. He looked very young, like a teenager, but he was very good looking and he was very fit with strong arms. I remember the strong arms. I remember thinking that I was stupid for hoping that Sophie was interested in me. Of course a pretty girl like her, with her blonde wavy hair and freckles, would have a boyfriend. But I was there to have fun, and maybe they had a friend or two that I could meet, right? So, we caught an Uber into town.

"If you've never been to Salzburg, it is a lot like Rouen. The new part of the city is drab and ugly; all 70's concrete block construction. But the old part of the city, where the medieval village was, has been converted to shops and restaurants and hotels. Sophie had booked us all into a hotel along the waterfront, just outside of the shopping district. It was a little cheaper than staying in the middle of the festival area and it meant that I could have my own room. I was planning on making good use of it. I mean, if I can't meet someone where everyone is drinking beer all day, what is the world coming to, right?

"Anyway, the first thing Sophie told me was that I needed to get dressed for the festival. She couldn't have me looking like an American tourist in a tee-shirt and jeans and sneakers. She and her boyfriend, Paul, took me shopping for a dirndl. But, mon dieu! I could not believe how expensive those things are! There's not just the dress. You have to also get the blouse, and the shoes and the hose and... well, for everything, it was like 600 Euros for an inexpensive one. The really nice ones? Sheesh. I'm just a student! So we tried some on, but after a while, I told Sophie that I was just going to have to be a tourist.

"Sophie told me not to worry. She would lend me one. She was going to stay the whole week, so she had brought an older one as a backup. The festival was set to kick off that afternoon and already, a lot of people were wearing their outfits. The girls in their dirndls with their hair braided all fancy, and the boys and men in their lederhosen. It was starting to get crowded in the central square where the official ceremonies would be held, so Sophie picked out a pair of white tights for me to buy and we rushed back to the hotel to get ready. Sophie told me to go ahead and shower while she and Paul got ready, then she would come over to my room and show me how to put on the dirndl.

"When she came over, I was just in my bathrobe. I know she had a boyfriend, but I was excited for the festival and I wanted her to see me naked. It would get me in the right mood for a party. So, when she came into the room, I dropped the robe and let her see me. I said, 'I don't know what underwear is proper for this outfit.'

"Sophie didn't even blink. She just held out the stack of clothes and said, "I brought you a bra with a pushup for the blouse. It may be tight on you, but that's good. She just went to work getting me ready. The dirndl that she had for me was pretty, but a little bit plain. The one she was wearing was beautiful. It was a deep blue with intricate gold thread embroidery work up and down the front. Her top was laced up tight and the front of her blouse had a plunging square front that displayed her breasts as if they had been placed on a platter for all to enjoy. Her hair was what caught my attention, though. In the half hour since we'd parted, she'd gotten it done up with interlocking ropes of braids. It looked amazing. I told her so.

"'Paul did it. He's a hair stylist in Munich and he's being doing this sort of thing for tourists for years. He can whip up braids in his sleep by now," she explained to me. 'He can do something for you, too, if you want.'"

"I told her, no, that it was getting late and I didn't want to miss the parade and the opening ceremonies. Sophie got me all bustled up and ready. The hose she'd chosen for me were white thigh highs. She told me not to wear any panties. When I asked why not, she just smiled and said, 'Trust me. You'll thank me later.'"

"We went out to the market and it was incredible! It was crowded, but it was a good crowd, not a lot of stupid drunken guys pushing and starting fights. Everyone was happy and they sang along with the bands and the whole village was like one big family. Of course, we drank beer. They poured the beers into these giant steins and we just walked around carrying these enormous mugs of beer. Because Sophie and I were looking cute, we got a lot of attention; lots of boys trying to talk to us and buying us drinks. Paul didn't seem to mind. He seemed to be proud that his girlfriend was getting so much attention. He just drank along with us and enjoyed the festival.

"I was mostly interested in the girls. Oh my god, do girls look hot in those outfits. My pussy was leaking down my leg. Everywhere I looked, there were drunk girls showing off their boobs. I wanted every one of them... at the same time. But it was not like that. The young men and boys were all acting very macho and displaying their drunken bravado and the girls seemed to be loving it and egging them on. I could not seem to get any interest from any of them.

"When it started to get late, I was feeling very buzzed from all of the beer. Plus, I had to pee very badly. I asked Sophie to help me find a bathroom. I remember Sophie pointed to a loooooooong line of women waiting for a turn in a rather nasty looking set of portapotties. It turns out, that much beer has the same effect on everyone. "I can't wait," I told her. I was feeling drunker and drunker even though I had stopped drinking. I didn't think I'd be able to control myself. I started to get afraid.

"'Come with me,' Sophie said. She took me by the arm and she and Paul led me through the rabbit warren of streets until we found a darkened alleyway behind some shops. 'THIS is why we don't wear panties to the beer festival. Paul, you keep a watch out.'" With that, Sophie squatted by a wall, lifted up the hem of her dirndl, exposing her perfectly waxed pussy and relaxed. Her pee came out in a torrent and the hissing sound and the wet sound of her pee hitting the paving stones made me have to go even more. I crossed my legs like a little girl. Sophie laughed and said, 'You better hurry, before someone comes along.'

I couldn't hold it any longer. I squatted over the ground and lifted up my own dirndl. I was facing Sophie and, as I let go, I could see that she was staring at me. 'It's ok,' she said. 'You can pee in front of me. I like to watch.' At first, I thought I imagined it. I was drunk and making things up in my mind. But when I looked at her again, I could see that she was finished peeing, but that she was still squatting and exposed to me, and she was slowly running her finger up and down her bare pussy. I was stunned. I was even more stunned when she held out her hand in a cup and put it under my stream. I watched, mesmerized, as she let my stream fill her cupped hand, and then bring it back to her own pussy and began to rub herself with my pee. 'We're going to have to finish that later," she said, standing up, suddenly. That's when I heard the footsteps, too. A group of laughing, drunken revelers was coming down the alley toward us.

I panicked and stood up before I was finished peeing. I stood there, frozen in place, while the last of my stream tricked down my leg. I could feel it soak into my stocking; hot at first and then cool. I didn't know what to do. I was very embarrassed and still very drunk. Sophie and Paul each grabbed one of my arms and led me back to the festival.

We stayed for a while and after a few minutes, the pee on my leg dried and I forgot all about it. I had some more beer and some of these amazing handmade pretzels. The whole time, either Paul or Sophie was by my side, sometimes holding me up, but mostly making sure I was ok. It was still very crowded, but the younger kids and the older people were leaving and only the serious partiers remained. That's when Sophie whispered into my ear. She said, 'Let's go back to the hotel so I can fuck you.'

"I was shocked. 'What about Paul? Won't he be jealous?' I asked her.

"'Paul wants to fuck you too. And I want to watch Paul fuck you,' was all that she said. Paul appeared beside me and Sophie told him that I was ready to go. I was still trying to process all of it in my mind. But, they didn't wait for me to think about it. They led me back to our hotel and up to their room. As soon as we were there, Sophie turned and pushed me up against the wall, kissing me deeply. Then she moved and Paul kissed me too, roughly. He shoved his tongue into my mouth and his hand gripped my jaw so that my mouth opened wider. Meanwhile, Sophie was running her fingers over the flesh of my breasts exposed by my top and the push-up bra. I was immediately turned on. 'Ok,' I thought, 'I can put up with Paul if it means I get to have Sophie.' But I had an immediate problem that I needed to take care of.

"I pushed both of them back and caught my breath. 'Wait,' I said. 'Yes, I will fuck both of you. But first, I need to pee again. And NOT right here.'"

"Sophie laughed a drunken laugh. 'You're going to need my help getting out of that thing. I don't want you peeing all over my dress,' she told me. She took me by the wrist and led me to the bathroom. When we were in, she closed the door behind us. She suddenly appeared more sober and said, "I know you pissed yourself before. Let's get you cleaned off before we go play with Paul.' She turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature. Unlike Sophie, I was not getting any more sober and I started to slump down onto the toilet. 'No!' she said, pulling me to my feet. 'Not in my dress. Here, you can pee in the shower. I'll get in and hold you up so you don't fall.' With that, she got undressed and carefully hung her outfit up on the hook on the back of the door. She then helped me out of mine, peeling my stockings off last, and then helping me into the hot shower.

"Sophie pushed me back against the wall and said, 'NOW you can pee.' She pushed my legs apart and said, 'Go ahead.' I was standing with my back against the cool tiles and it felt great -- steamy water on my front and the cold stones on my back. My head was floating and I just felt really, really good. So, I relaxed and let my pee flow. Sophie immediately fell to her knees before me and leaned forward to allow my stream to flow over her chest and breasts. She reached down and began to play with her pussy. She looked up at me with her freckled nose and bright blue eyes, and asked, quietly, 'Can I?'