“What a lovely
story,” Gaëlle said, smiling. “I’m sorry I never met your Paul, he
sounds fun.”
Odile started
to laugh, then choked. “I was about to say exactly the same thing
about your Jérôme,” she declared, mopping her eyes. “Now, do you
want me to finish telling what I started last time?”
“If you want to
tell, I’m happy to listen,” Gaëlle said. Odile recounted some of
her experiences. It seemed that, while the sex was often good, the
men involved were a mixed bag of idiots, fortune hunters and
crooks.
Odile
concluded, “So, as I told you, I just wanted to feel well-fucked,
but I became dissatisfied with how I achieved that. I took Barbara
into my confidence and explained the problem to her. It was either
that or start to go further onto the wild side, sex clubs and group
sex, and I don’t think that’s for me. I was amazed to discover that
she was in complete sympathy. She’d had similar reactions when her
divorce came through. You only have to look at this house to
understand why she’d be a honeypot for a fortune hunter.”
“So what
happened next?” Gaëlle asked.
“Barbara and I
came to the conclusion that we could have fun without men,” Odile
explained. “Not that we are lesbians,” she went on hurriedly. “We
just try things out in each other’s company.”
“What sort of
things?”
“Oh, vibrators,
all sorts of toys. We trust each other and it’s interesting to see
how someone else reacts to certain experiences.”
“Such as?”
Odile
smiled.
“Don’t tell me
you didn’t notice Barbara’s nipples last time!”
“I could hardly
miss them,” Gaëlle admitted.
“The first time
she showed me her little pump, I was very unsure. But she persuaded
me to try it, and wow!”
Gaëlle could
feel her heart beating faster as she asked, “How does it feel?”
“Your breasts
and especially your nipples become very sensitive and, of course,
they are much more noticeable.”
“They certainly
are,” Gaëlle exclaimed.
“I haven’t
dared yet to go out after pumping them up. I’m only a housewife
after all, not a top model.”
“None of us is.
The important thing is your reaction, rather than other people’s.
You would certainly feel very sexual, I imagine.”
“Oh yes, very.
Would you like to watch me do it?”
“Maybe later,”
Gaëlle said, telling herself to defer the gratification. “I’d be
interested to see the equipment, though, if you want to show it to
me.”
Odile stood and
led the way through to another, smaller room with no outside
windows, but several mirrors. “Barbara’s dressing room,
originally,” Odile explained. “Her secret sex room now. You get the
picture?” she asked, opening the drawer of a bureau to reveal an
array of vibrators of all shapes and sizes, each in its own little
niche. “But this is what you wanted to see.” Beside a sofa on the
floor sat an electric pump. Several sets of transparent plastic
tubing hung neatly alongside it. A box of little glass cylinders of
varying diameters was on a low table nearby.
“You can do
both nipples at once,” Odile explained, holding up a section of
tubing, “When the pump is working, your nipples feel as if they
could be drawn right up the cylinder and out at the other end. But
they never are, fortunately.” she concluded, and laughed.
“Isn’t it
noisy?” Gaëlle inquired.
“No, that’s the
beauty of Barbara’s money. The pump is almost totally silent. It
cost a bomb, I’m sure.” Odile chose one of the cylinders and
clipped it to the tube.
“Let me
demonstrate,” she said. “Cover the open end with the palm of your
hand to form a seal.”
Gaëlle did as
she was told and Odile flicked a switch. There was a quiet hum, and
Gaëlle felt a slight suction against her palm. Odile turned a knob,
and suddenly the skin of Gaëlle’s hand was being drawn up into the
tube.
“It’s almost as
powerful as a vacuum cleaner!” Gaëlle declared.
“If you let go
of it, the suction will hold it in place,” Odile told her. “Can you
imagine what it does to a nipple? I’ve set it to straight suction,
but if I do this…it pulses, as well,” she said, flicking another
switch.
Gaëlle nodded,
although her own mind was not thinking of the effect on nipples but
of how it would feel if she fitted the cup tightly over her
clitoris hood. The mere idea of it gave her the trembles. She
calmed herself down and pulled the cylinder away from her skin. It
made a plopping sound and left a red ring on her palm.
Time for
a change of subject
..
“Shall we go
for a swim now?” she suggested. “I think perhaps we should cool
off. I’ve even brought my swimsuit this time.”
She couldn’t
miss how Odile’s face fell.
“But I’m happy
to swim naked, if that’s what you usually do,” Gaëlle added
quickly.
Odile’s face
lit up again.
“Let’s go,
then.”
Down in the
pool area, Gaëlle stripped off. Odile also undressed totally. As
Gaëlle had noticed on the previous occasion, Odile showed the marks
of motherhood, with stretch lines on her stomach and breasts, but
that didn’t prevent her from being an attractive woman, Gaëlle
reflected.
“Let’s swim,”
Odile said, slipping into the water. “Just do your own thing. I saw
that you were used to doing lengths, so go ahead.”
Gaëlle took her
at her word and gave herself up to the pleasure of rhythmical
front-crawl lengths, tumble-turning at each end. When her internal
clock told her she had done thirty minutes, she stopped. She stood
in the shallow end, breathing deeply and appreciating the sense of
well-being that a good workout always gave her.
“That was
impressive,” Odile said. “I can see you’re used to serious
exercise. If you want to paddle for a while to get your breath
back, I’ll just go and get the champagne.”
“That’s part of
the routine, is it?” Gaëlle asked.
“Oh yes.
Barbara insisted that I should offer you champagne if you came
round,” Odile called back over her shoulder as she went up the
stairs. “Back in a minute. We’ll have it down here.”
Gaëlle did a
few gentle lengths to warm down, then got out of the pool and dried
herself. She was wondering whether to get dressed when she heard
the tinkle of glass as Odile came back down the spiral staircase.
Gaëlle went to meet her, to lend a hand. Odile’s face was flushed,
and she was concentrating hard as she carried a tray laden with an
ice bucket, the bottle and two glasses down the narrow stairs. At
the bottom, Gaëlle reached out to rescue the glasses, which were
tottering perilously.
“Thank you,”
Odile said. “I wouldn’t like to have to explain to Barbara that I’d
dropped some of her best crystal.”
Gaëlle scarcely
heard her. Her gaze was fixed on Odile’s breasts. Each nipple was
enclosed in a little glass cylinder, and was drawn out, just as
Barbara’s had been.
“I hope you
don’t mind,” Odile said, glancing down. “Since Barbara isn’t here,
I thought that as hostess I should do as she would have done.”
“Euh…No.” What
else could Gaëlle say?
Odile set down
the tray and released the cork from the bottle. Her glass cylinders
wobbled as she leaned over to pour the champagne. She sat on the
edge of the pool.
“Cheers,” she
said, raising her glass. Gaëlle mirrored the gesture.
“I think the
cups are ready to come off, now,” Odile said, looking down at her
breasts. She opened the little valves and released the vacuum. Her
nipples shrank, but only marginally. Gaëlle watched in fascination
as Odile removed the cylinders. Each nipple was long and swollen.
Odile massaged them gently, looking at Gaëlle, who was also sitting
on the poolside, her feet dangling in the water.
There was a
moment’s silence, broken by Gaëlle, who had to ask, “How does it
feel to do that to your nipples? Isn’t it uncomfortable?”
“As I said, it
makes them much more sensitive as well as much more noticeable,”
Odile responded. “Want to try before you go home?”
“I’m not sure.
Would it be rude to say I’m tempted, but I’m not ready to do it
with an audience?”
“I understand
that totally. The first few times I did it, I wouldn’t let Barbara
watch, in case I didn’t like the effect. Let’s finish the
champagne, then we’ll go back upstairs to the toy room and I’ll
leave you to decide if you want to try. It isn’t an obligation,”
Odile said.
Gaëlle returned
Odile’s smile. “Thank you. You’re very considerate,” she said. “I
appreciate that.”
They finished
the bottle while Odile’s nipples slowly returned to normal, and
when Gaëlle stood up, she was conscious of the effects of the
alcohol. They dressed and went back up the stairs. Odile led Gaëlle
to the toy room.
“I’ll be in the
sitting room next to the kitchen if you want me,” she said as she
closed the door, leaving Gaëlle alone. “I’ll check on you in about
half an hour.”
Gaëlle sat for
a moment in the warmth and comfort. She examined the tubing and
made sure that she knew how the pump turned on and off. She pulled
off her top and examined her nipples. She spent a few minutes to
work out exactly how the system worked, then turned on the pump,
trying out the suction on her hand.
“Don’t want my
nipples to disappear up the tubing and into the pump,” she
muttered, turning it off again. She examined the glass cylinders.
Odile had called them cups, but Gaëlle couldn’t relate to that.
Wrong shape altogether, she thought.
She placed the
glass cylinders over both nipples. Then she realised that she
didn’t have a hand spare to turn on the pump. She would have to
start the pump first. Once it was going, she put both cylinders in
place at the same time. Her nipples jerked involuntarily as the
suction took effect. Even though she had selected the lowest level
of suction, her nipples were immediately drawn out, becoming longer
and fatter. She’d expected the suction to be like a vacuum cleaner,
but now she realized that Odile had left the pulsing function
switched on. Hard, then easier, hard again then less, just as if
someone had been sucking on her nipples, although nobody could have
possibly sucked as hard as this machine. The sensation made her
feel slightly faint. She turned the pump up a notch. Now, her
nipples were dark red with the extra blood flowing into them. She
stood it for as long as she could, then gratefully turned the pump
off and detached the cylinders.
She looked down
at her nipples, which were much longer and fatter than she had
thought possible. She brushed a tentative fingertip over her right
breast. It was more sensitive, that was obvious. She touched the
nipple, and jumped.
“Ouf,” she said
out loud. “So this is what I looked like with Vivienne.”
She examined
herself from various angles in the mirrors. Her nipples were
disproportionate to the modest size of her bust. She wasn’t sure
whether she liked what she was seeing. She would need to think
about how she looked and felt when she got home. She sat back down,
detached the double cylinders from the tubing and looked for a
single, slightly larger one.
Now she was
ready to experiment as she had really intended all along. Wasn’t
that why she’d chosen to come wearing a skirt? She hadn’t admitted
as much when she was deciding what to wear, but she refused to fool
herself now.
She sat back on
the sofa and slid the skirt up to the top of her thighs. Should she
take her knickers off or just slide them to one side? She hesitated
for a moment, then pulled them down and off. Odile knew why Gaëlle
was in the toy room in general terms, so why pretend?
It was never a
problem to find her clitoris. Jérôme had always said it peeped when
she was turned on, and right now was no exception. She chose what
she hoped was a suitable cylinder and fitted it over the hood, her
stomach lurching when she inadvertently brushed the tip of her
exposed clitoris in the process. It was already engorged, just from
thinking about what she was doing to herself. She held the cylinder
in place while she connected the tube that would link her to the
pump. So far so good, she thought. She reached across and flicked
the switch. She was glad that she’d remembered to start gently, as
the suction was already strong. She peered down over her belly and
rucked-up skirt. Her clitoris was being drawn into the cylinder.
The sight made her heart race, and the extra blood drawn into her
clitoris was making it throb.
She swallowed,
hard, and that simple action produced a twitch in the exposed
clitoris. Wanting to catch her breath, Gaëlle turned off the pump.
She was expecting to see her clitoris retract and for the tension
she was feeling in it to be relaxed, but there was no reduction in
the suction. The seal held, and her clitoris remained swollen and
pulsating. She panicked, grabbing for the transparent tube that
connected her to the pump. It came free, but still the vacuum
gripped her clitoris. She remembered that there was a valve to
release. She reached down to free herself, but then, by an effort
of will, drew her hand away. She lay back again and tried to calm
herself down, so she could observe her body objectively.
The little
cylinder was sticking out from the cleft of her sex almost like an
imitation penis. Her clitoris half-filled the cylinder, turning its
transparency pink. She felt a contraction in her vagina, and again
the cylinder twitched. Tentatively, she reached down and dabbed at
it with a finger, as she had done so often to Jérôme’s erect penis.
An immediate wave of pleasure swept through her and she groaned.
She dared herself to touch it again. This time, she took the
cylinder between finger and thumb and pulled on it very, very
gently, as if masturbating a penis. She doubled over with the
strength of her orgasm. Her fumbling fingers somehow found and
operated the valve, and she looked down, just in time to see her
clitoris contract to its normal size as she pulled the cylinder
off.
Normal
, however, in this context was a relative term,
she reflected. The state of her clitoris might well be normal, but
only normal for how it appeared when she was massively turned on.
She sat back and breathed deeply.