London Calling
By cs.unwin
Warning: This story contains adult content. If such material offends you please stop reading.
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Precis: Mary leaves the country for London where she hopes her sexuality will be more accepted. She soon meets other women like her and finds both love and heartbreak.
Hope you enjoy. CS
It was the fall of 1931 and the city was a vast labyrinth of bustling streets and towering buildings, a stark contrast to the quiet countryside of Kent that I had grown up in. But I was determined to start anew, to escape the confining life of a small village and find my own path in the world. At 18 years old, I was a young and naive girl with a heart full of dreams and a secret that I had yet to fully understand myself. Most found me quite pretty although I am not very tall and I am slight and I have chestnut colored hair which I keep trimmed to my shoulders. Despite my short stature, nature has given me a bosom many would long for; while not large my breasts are round and firm and always attracted the attention of men around me.
But I cared little for the opinion of men as I had realized my attraction to women at a young age, but living in a conservative village, I kept my desires hidden. They ventured forth only late at night in the quiet of my own room where I learned to touch myself while dreaming of being in the arms of beauties I knew from the cinema like Merle Oberon, and Lilian Harvey. I imagined their fingers touching my breasts and caressing my nipples. My fingers became their lips which parted the warm and wet folds between my legs and tickled the little button I had there.
However, when I ventured into the city and found employment as a typist in an insurance company, I was exposed to a whole new world of possibilities. The office was predominantly filled with women, and it was there that I met Meg Simpson, a plump and boisterous girl with fiery red hair.
Meg took an immediate interest in me, and despite her brash nature, I was immediately physically attracted to her and found myself drawn to her confident and outgoing personality. I couldn't help looking at her large and heavy breasts and I noticed her large blunt fingers. I imagined those fingers touching me roughly in places no one had ever touched me before.
Meg invited me to walk with her on a Saturday in Covent Gardens and I gladly accepted. I was hoping she had more than friendship in mind as I had not yet been kissed by another girl. As if she had been able to read my thoughts she led me to a place concealed by shrubs, held me in her arms and kissed me on the lips. When I melted in her arms and eagerly returned her kiss she let her hand caress my bosom. I could barely stand and immediately felt wetness between my legs. Meg couldn't ignore my eagerness and invited me to her rooms where we could have more privacy. While we traveled there Meg told me over and over how lovely she thought I was and that I was the one she had been looking for.
Once inside her room and the door closed behind us, Meg pushed me down onto the bed and climbed on top, pressing my body down with hers. I was nervous and unsure of what to do next but my doubts melted when Meg told me she loved me and wanted me for her own. I said I loved her too and watched with anticipation as she unbuttoned her shirt, lifted her chemise and lowered her big breasts to my face. They were pale and soft and tipped with pink nipples, one of which I instinctively took in my mouth and began to suck.
I felt her big rough fingers lift up the hem of my skirt and pull my knickers aside. Those fingers found the opening of my fanny pulled the lips apart. She tickled my wet slit and when she discovered my little hole, quickly pushed a finger inside. Once there she moved it back and forth and wiggled it from side to side. In less than a minute I was gasping for breath and holding on to her as an orgasm crashed over me.
As I lay overwhelmed by the sensations I watched Meg lift her skirt and pull down her knickers. Where I had a little patch of brown hair she had a thick thatch of ginger hair covering her fanny. With her knickers off she got on her knees and moved so her fanny was just above my face. Then she lowered herself onto my mouth and I was smothered by her thick wet lips. I did not need to be told what to do - every instinct told me to use my tongue to lick every place it would reach.
We spent the rest of the day in her small room pleasuring each other and declaring our love. I was sure that I had finally found the love and acceptance I craved. After 18 years of feeling I didn't fit in anywhere, I believed I had found my home.
For the next several weeks we spent every spare moment together and I felt I was in heaven. Then one day Meg began avoiding me and making excuses. I was miserable; I blamed myself wondering what I had done to her and why she suddenly abandoned me. However a few days later I saw her walking arm in arm with a dark haired beauty who looked Spanish or Italian. I knew Meg had found a new love and no longer wanted me. The truth was obvious and clear, Meg had been merely playing with me, using me for her own pleasure and amusement.
Feeling hurt and betrayed, I withdrew into myself, vowing to be more cautious with matters of the heart. It was during this time that I met Edna O'Toole, a fellow typist at the office who was close to my age. Edna was from Ireland and had a worldly sophistication that I found both intimidating and intriguing.
Edna was new to London just like me and appeared to not have many friends. Many of our colleagues shunned her because the Irish were considered disreputable as they are mostly Roman Catholic and the country is very poor. We began taking lunch together and exploring the city on weekends. Edna was my height, very thin, her face was covered in freckles and she often wore her fair hair in a French braid. She also often wore trousers which in 1931 was a bit of a novelty. When dressed, her breasts were just small bumps and some said trousers made her look like a boy.
When she first kissed me I tried to stop her - I wanted her as my friend but I didn't want to be hurt again. Edna persisted in her pursuit of me. One Sunday we packed a picnic lunch and took a train out into the country. It was a beautiful English spring day and we found a sunny glade in the forest that was hidden from view. After we had finished eating lunch, Edna began kissing me. I tried to stop her even though her touch was making me so excited. She knew that my body was ripe with desire for her and she pushed me down on the blanket and lay between my legs. Her fingers quickly opened the buttons of my dress and found the soft curve of my breasts. My nipples were swollen with excitement when she touched them as if they knew how much I wanted her. Edna saw this and put her hand under my dress and near the top of my thighs. My fanny was tingling and saturated with desire and when her hand glided up my leg past the top of my stocking and to the waist of my knickers, I lifted my bottom to let her pull them off. Edna quickly buried her face between my legs and began licking. The suddenness of Edna's movement caught me by surprise. I had not intended to become intimate with her, at least not so quickly. But I suppose I was in such desperate need of affection and my lust for the pretty Irish girl cast aside all the reservations I had.
Truly Edna was an accomplished lover; when her tongue entered my most intimate place my only thoughts were on her and the pleasure she was giving me. In the middle of a clearing in the forest I gave myself to this young Irish girl. After her talented mouth gave me so much pleasure, and although I resisted her advances at first, my loneliness and vulnerability eventually led me to succumb to her affection.
However, my happiness was short-lived when I caught sight of Edna kissing my previous lover Meg during a break at work. It was a painful reminder of my previous heartbreak, and I realized that I had once again fallen victim to someone's manipulations.
As I tried to navigate the complexities of love and relationships in the city, I found solace in my work. My manager, Stella Smith, was a tall and handsome woman with a commanding presence. She must have been in her early 40s and was well-respected in the office for her professionalism and efficiency.
Little did I know that Stella was harboring a secret of her own - she was a lesbian. She had been discreet about her sexuality, fearing the repercussions of being open in a conservative society. But she couldn't help but be drawn to me, a young and vulnerable girl who seemed lost and in need of guidance.
Stella observed my heartbreak over Meg and Edna from afar, and her heart ached for me. She wanted to show me how she truly felt, but she was also afraid of rejection. However, one day, she found the courage to approach me in private, and she revealed her feelings to me.
I was taken aback by Stella's confession. I had never considered her as anything more than a manager, and the thought of being involved with another woman, especially one who was older and more experienced, was overwhelming. I resisted her advances at first, afraid of being hurt again, but Stella was persistent. She showed me kindness, understanding, and genuine care, and slowly, my walls began to crumble.
As Stella and I grew closer, we began spending more time together outside of work, going for walks in the park, visiting museums, and sharing our dreams and aspirations with each other. As our relationship deepened, Stella became my rock, my confidante, and my source of inspiration. She showed me the beauty and power of love, and I found myself falling deeply in love with her. It was a love that was pure, true, and unconditional, and I realized that age, gender, or societal norms didn't matter when it came to matters of the heart.
Eventually our relationship became physical. I'll always be grateful she did not rush and let our feelings for each other grow and deepen before taking that first step. It started with simple touching and holding hands when we were not being observed. This was followed by kisses: kisses for greeting and kisses for goodbye. It seemed we were touching each other at every possible opportunity. When I was with her I felt a tingling throughout my body, my legs would become weak and my sex moisten in anticipation.
Following an evening with Stella, after she had walked me to my rooming house and kissed me goodnight, I would lie in bed thinking about loving her, about her naked on top of me and touching me in all my sensitive and secret places. I pretended my fingers were hers as I stroked my fanny and tickled my clitoris until finally achieving a climax that would leave me gasping.
It wasn't long before I found myself thinking of making love with Stella at odd times throughout the day. What had begun as caution on both our parts turned into an aching need for me. I couldn't wait any longer for Stella to make love to me and I became impatient for her to make the first move.
One evening Stella invited me to her flat for dinner. It was a modest, cozy space with bookshelves filled with literature. Stella had worn an evening dress for the occasion which made he look so beautiful it nearly took my breath away. I felt slightly ashamed as the dress I wore was quite modest. Stella cooked a simple but delicious meal, and we sat across from each other at the small table, sharing stories and laughter.
As we finished our meal, Stella reached across the table and took my hand. "I have something I want to ask you, Mary," Stella said, her eyes gazing into mine.
My heart skipped a beat, and I looked at her with curiosity. "What is it, Stella?" I asked softly.
Stella took a deep breath, her fingers intertwined with mine. "Mary, I love you with all my heart," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you be my partner, my confidante, and my love for all eternity?" Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened to Stella's words. I had never imagined I could find someone who would love me so deeply and unconditionally. My heart overflowed with love for Stella, and without hesitation, I spoke from my heart. "Yes, Stella," I said, my voice choked with emotion. "I love you too, and I beg of you, please make love with me!"
"Oh my sweet love," Stella said, "there isn't anything in the world that could stop me!" Having said that Stella took me by the hand and led me into her small but cozy bedroom. She began by taking the pins out of my hair so that my light brown locks felt around my shoulders. She gave me a soft kiss on the lips and turned me around so as to more easily reach the buttons at the back of my dress. These she opened and the dress slid over my shoulders and to the floor. "Mary you are so young and beautiful," Stella said as she removed my brassiere and gazed upon my bosom for the first time. "I'm so lucky I found you!"
I trembled with excitement as she cupped each of my full breasts in her hands, caressing my nipples with her palms. Then, to my surprise, this beautiful woman whom I loved so deeply fell to her knees and placed her head between my legs. I could tell she was inhaling the odor of my arousal and she deftly pulled down my knickers. When her tongue parted my wet lips and pierced my center my legs became so weak I could no longer stand and I fell back onto the bed behind me.
Stella followed me onto the mattress, lay down between my bare legs and put her lips on the middle of my fanny. She paused for a moment and said: "I've wanted to taste you since the first time we met!"
She then began to gently lick that sensitive little nub, my clitoris. She licked me with such patience and skill that I soon felt waves of pleasure as one strong orgasm flooded over me. And then another, but the second time some fluid spurted out of my vagina and onto Stella's face. I was so embarrassed that I had weed on my beautiful lover.
"Oh goodness Stella!" I said to her. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to wee on you."
"Don't be silly my love," she said. ""It's not wee and you needn't feel embarrassed. This happens to some women when they are extremely aroused and I've only seen it once before. It shows me how excited I have made you and that's a wonderful thing. Now my sweet, I think it's my turn to be pleasured, don't you?"
"Oh please Stella!" I said. "I'd like nothing better in the world."
Stella was still mostly dressed and I gently pushed her off the bed so she stood before me. I paused to admire the object of my love and affection. She was several inches taller than I was and much more fully figured. It appeared she had always been wide hipped and big busted, and the years had added to her lovely curves. Stella had worn a satin mauve colored calf-length evening dress for our dinner which clung to her tightly and outlined her voluptuous figure. This was the new style of the 30s; gone were the boyish shapeless fashions of the 1920s - replaced by dresses which created a slinky and feminine silhouette and clung to curves that had not previously been hugged.
She turned her back towards me inviting me to unbutton the dress which I did, fingers trembling with excitement. I lifted the fabric off her shoulders and pulled it down to her waist and then to her feet. Underneath she wore a peach coloured corselette which is a one piece garment that goes from above the breasts to just above one's thighs. This was a precursor to what would later be called a girdle but differed in that the bra and garters were included in a single form fitting garment. The corselette was popular with full figured women like Stella especially for evening wear; the lower part kept her tummy flat but the bra barely contained her heavy breasts. At the bottom were four clips attached to a pair of silk stockings which covered her shapely legs, above which I could see small tufts of curly brown pubic hair peeking out from what was essentially a crotchless undergarment.
This was my first glimpse of Stella's beautiful half clothed figure and I was so moved I fell to my knees and placed my cheek against her abdomen. Her smell filled my senses and I was certain I detected the unmistakable odor of an aroused woman. My lover gently stroked my hair as if to encourage me onwards and I unclipped her stockings from her garter and gently pulled them off her legs, kissing the soft flesh of her inner thigh as I did so. While I did this Stella began to peel off her corselette from the top down. I was treated to the sight of her heavy white breasts with their large pink tips. Seeing them from below made me appreciate their size and beauty.
Stella slid the tight bodice over her hips from where they fell to her ankles. I was blessed with an unobstructed view of her sex. It was as if a dream had come true and I stared with amazement at the hair covered triangle that was her sex and the outline of her fanny lips visible beneath. I must have lost the plot briefly because Stella placed her feet apart, took my head in her hands and firmly directed me to her moist furrow. I lost no time pushing my tongue into her, thrilled to taste her essence, what I had longed for what seemed like forever.
As I began to lick Stella, slowly and deliberately, I concentrated on the area around her little bud, her clitoris. From my own experience I found it better to lick outside and around a woman's delicate little bud rather than going directly to its very sensitive head. I usually initiate direct contact at the end and at the peak of my lover's climax.
I used my tongue on her little nub to make Stella climax twice. I wanted to stop so that I could give my tongue a rest but she resisted. Stella took a handful of my hair and held me to her fanny. "No my love, I want more," she said. Push your tongue inside me."
I was secretly thrilled that Stella took charge and I followed her instructions. Next she turned around and ordered me to lick her bottom. I had never done this before and was reluctant, but I followed her orders. From that moment on I let Stella take charge and willingly gave myself to her. She easily assumed the dominant role in our partnership both in and out of bed, and I was glad to let her. When she told me what to do I felt safe and loved and I felt a sense of peace and joy that I had never experienced before.
In the weeks that followed, our relationship blossomed; all my fears and doubts melted away and our love grew deeper and stronger. We spent every moment outside of work together, going on walks in the park, visiting art galleries, and talking about our hopes and dreams. Above all we made love, every day and sometimes even more often. If it is possible I myself falling even more deeply in love; Stella showed me a world I had never known was possible.
Our relationship was not without its challenges; we had to be cautious and discreet about our love, knowing that same-sex relationships were frowned upon by society at that time. We couldn't openly express our love and affection for each other in public, and we had to be careful not to arouse suspicion at work.
Despite our best efforts to keep our relationship a secret, word got out about us at work. With so many women in the office it was certain there were a few who secretly loved other women and it is likely our happiness aroused their jealousy. That's why we decided to leave everything behind and start a new life together in Canada, where we hoped to be able to live more freely as a couple. We knew that it would be a difficult journey, but we were willing to face any challenge for the sake of our love.
We began to make plans, secretly saving money and packing our belongings. We told no one of our plans, afraid that our families and colleagues would try to stop us.
Finally, the day arrived. We left London in the early morning, taking a train to Liverpool where we would board a ship to Canada. We were both terrified, but also excited at the prospect of starting a new life together.
As we stepped off the ship in Halifax, Nova Scotia, we felt a new sense of freedom and possibility that we had never experienced before. We were in a new land, with new customs and new people and where no one knew or could judge us. We were together, and that was all that mattered.