The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica (4 page)

Kay smiled as she buffed the hard, punishing oval of the spoon against her spank-pinkened fingers. It was only a matter of time before Jo made an illicit midnight trip to the kitchen. She
wondered how much of a thrashing a well-exercised bum could bear before it turned scarlet and its owner began to beg.

Tyneside Ladies’ Night

Charlotte Matthews

It was the usual women-only night – the company doesn’t allow mixed parties – and they’d asked me to bring the whole catalogue. Now they were looking at
a blow-up doll.

“Eeh, it’s disgustin’,” said Irene, a tarty woman in a tight red dress. “All them holes!”

“Aye,” said Jeanette, the hostess, whose skirt was too short to completely conceal the tops of her stockings. “It’s even got a hole in the, you know, the back passage.
What’s that for then, Pauline?”

“Anal intercourse,” I said.

“She means takin’ it up the arse,” said Irene’s daughter, Karen, even tartier than her mother in the kind of micro-mini known locally as a fanny-pelmet.

“What?” said Kathy, the quietest of the group. “You mean they . . .” She looked shocked.

They all laughed and Rene, a rough looking woman who looked older than the rest, said, “Aye, Kathy pet, they stick their things up your bum!”

“Eeh, I’ve never heard o’ that,” said Jeanette. She looked so shocked that they all laughed again.

“Oh, it’s quite common,” said Karen. “Some people like it more than the other way,” and she looked meaningfully at her friend, Sharon, who blushed bright red.

“Ah, come on,” said Karen. “You’re not so shy when you’re out with the lasses on a Friday night.”

“That’s different,” hissed Sharon.

“Eeh, Sharon pet,” said Jeanette. “Is that right? You let them . . . you know . . . do it from the back?”

“Sometimes,” said Sharon, glaring at Karen.

Kathy was fascinated. “And is it . . . does it . . . how does it feel?”

“It feels great,” said Sharon defiantly.

I thought it was time to step in. “It is quite common,” I said. “There’s even a special range of vibrators if you like it that way.”

I held up the Derriere Demon, popularly known as the Arse-Bandit, a long thin vibrator with a swollen end. I switched it on and handed it to Kathy. She felt it shuddering in her hand and quickly
passed it on to Sharon, who tried to appear casual, but couldn’t disguise the pink flush that appeared on her neck and chest.

“Well, what about them little nozzles on the boobies then?” said Jeanette.

There was a moment’s silence. “Oh, yeah, sorry,” I said. “The Doll. Forgot about her for a minute. The nozzles? They’re for squirting milk.”

Jeanette’s mouth dropped. “Away, Pauline. You mean . . . never. I mean I know men are dirty buggers, but—”

Rene interrupted. “I don’t know whether it’s dirty or not, but my Tommy used to like it.”

We all looked at her. She was wearing a blouse that fastened at the neck, but it couldn’t hide her enormous chest. “Aye,” she said, not embarrassed in the least. “The
first time I was expectin’, I had too much milk. I had to express it – that’s what they call it. And Tommy came in while I was doing it one day and he couldn’t take his eyes
off us. An’ I had plenty, so I thought, why not?”

“What? You mean you let him . . . ?”

“Oh aye, Jeanette pet. I let him all right. And you can take it from me – when you feed a man like that you get wet, and I don’t mean from the milk.”

“There’s no need for that,” said Irene sharply.

“An’ every time I fell after that – an’ I’ve had seven, you know – every time I fell, me an’ Tommy would go up to the bedroom and lock the door
an’ I’d get them out an’ let him suck away to his heart’s content. No harm in it. It was just me an’ him.”

“Rene!” It was Irene again.

“When I was really full I used to squirt it into his mouth. From right across the room.” She grabbed her enormous breasts and squeezed them. “Two jets, like little fire
hoses.”

There was silence as we all stared at Rene.

Then Jeanette said, “I’ll put the kettle on.”

We all relaxed.

While Jeanette was making the tea, I put the doll away, cleared the top of the low coffee-table, and got out my box of goodies. When the first one came out – an ivory-coloured Non-Doctor
– they all looked at each other and giggled. The second one – a seven-inch flesh-coloured cock with realistic balls, produced an “Oh, My God,” and some elbow-nudging. The
third one, ten inches, with in-out rotating action, had Irene saying, “Eeh, never in the world,” and clutching Rene’s arm. And from then on it was a steadily mounting litany of
disbelief.

“You’re never supposed to—”

“Where’s that thing supposed to—”

“Jesus Christ, that’d split you in half!”

One by one, I switched them all on and put them on the coffee-table. When Jeanette came back in, she nearly dropped the tray. Her table was covered in buzzing vibrators, all moving around under
their own power, slowly converging on an enormous black dildo in the centre that hummed smoothly like a dynamo.

“Pauline! My God! What do you do with them?”

Everyone laughed. Jeanette blushed. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“It’s not such a daft question,” I said. “It just needs to be put slightly differently.”

I pressed the play button on the remote control to start the video I’d loaded earlier, and continued talking over the opening credits.

“You see, when most women ask what something like that’s for, what they really mean is, ‘Dare I use it?’ Am I right, Jeanette?”

Jeanette blushed deeper. The others said nothing.

“That’s why we always show this video at these parties. It’s American, so it’s a bit over the top, but basically it’s just women – all ages, all shapes and
sizes – using vibrators for the first time. If you still wonder whether you dare, just have a look at this.”

I switched off the vibrators on the table and went to the back of the room to watch.

The video’s not porn, it’s actually quite serious, made by a sexologist who found that most of the women who came to him with sexual problems didn’t have problems at all
– their husbands did. And when he was able to get these women “in touch with their own sexuality” (I told you it was American) – usually through getting them to use a
vibrator – they never looked back. So he made the video to spread the gospel to women everywhere. I said it wasn’t porn, and it isn’t, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a
turn-on. The first few minutes are a bit slow: he’s explaining to this middle-aged woman – about forty, I’d say – all about his theories and how the use of vibrators is
medically recommended. But then he leaves her alone in his office to try one out for the first time, and that’s when the fun begins.

You could have heard a pin drop as they watched her look around to make sure she was completely alone, then pick up the vibrator he’d left with her. She found the little slider button
straightaway and switched it on – and promptly dropped it when she felt it buzzing in her hands.

They laughed, almost with relief I thought, and Jeanette said, “Nobody’s drunk their tea. Shall we have something a bit stronger, lasses?”

I put the video on pause while she got the gin and sherry and Babycham out, and then pressed play again.

The woman on the screen picked the vibrator up, and this time, after looking around again, she sat in a soft leather chair, a bit uncomfortable at first, but then relaxing and moving her
backside forward so that her legs opened a bit. She took one last look at the closed door, pulled her dress up to expose her white cotton knickers, and then gingerly, as if afraid it might hurt,
put the tip of the vibrator to her crotch.

She opened her eyes wide when it made contact. Then she closed them, sprawled further down in the chair and really began to use it. She pressed it hard against her, giving a little shimmy with
her hips as she did so, and began to move it up and down, turning it in her hand. Soon the dress was up around her waist and she was half lying on the chair. She kept up this low level stuff for a
minute or two, then stood up suddenly and went quickly over to the door and locked it. Hurriedly, she took off her dress and slip and then pulled down her knickers and stepped out of them,
revealing a thick black bush.

Their eyes were glued to the screen as she hesitated, then removed her bra. Her breasts weren’t firm, but they were big, and they could all see that her nipples were hard.

This was usually the moment when the tension disappeared. This woman was not young, not a model, just an ordinary housewife who’d had kids and was getting on. Her figure was good, but her
body was that of a forty-year-old, and being alone, she made no attempt to try and make it look better than it was. It made them feel good. The older ones, anyway – she wasn’t too
different from them.

She went back to the chair, and this time she sprawled, lying almost flat, her hips well over the edge, her feet and knees wide apart. I heard Kathy gasp as the thick black hair parted to reveal
pinky-purple lips that were clearly wet. Then they all gasped as she pressed the vibrator to those soft lips and kept pushing until the tip had disappeared. She spread her legs wider, threw her
head back, and inch by inch, pushed the vibrator up inside her. When only the last inch was visible, she began to buck her hips, thrusting hard against it. Her breath was ragged now and she was
really giving it six-nowt, as they say in these parts, her body moving in complete abandon. They could all see that this woman was really doing it, really pleasuring herself, not caring about
anything but coming.

And when she did come they were right there with her. She closed her legs tight, toes pointed, and pressed both hands down hard on her mound, intensifying the thrill of the rod vibrating deep
inside her. Little tremors began to sweep her body and she clutched herself tighter, bucking against her own hands, thrusting her hips again and again until she suddenly went rigid, heels on the
carpet, head against the back of the chair, and, body trembling and twitching, came like an avalanche.

“Bloody Hell,” said Irene, her voice a bit shaky.

They’d all been knocking back the drink while this had been going on. Now they got fill-ups and started on them like there was no tomorrow as they settled down to watch.

After that introductory scene, which it was explained had been secretly filmed but only used afterwards with “the subject’s full permission”, the rest of the video took place
at one of the sexologist’s workshops. In a large, thickly carpeted room, twenty naked women pleasured themselves with a variety of vibrators and other implements. There were old women with
hanging tits and sparse grey bushes, and young women with tits like firm melons and hard round arses, and every other type of woman you could imagine in between. Some had shaven fannies, and the
camera tended to concentrate on those, since there was no hair to obscure the detail of what they were doing to themselves.

And they all had different styles. Some just concentrated on their clits, with the vibrators standing almost upright; some slid their vibrators up and down their slits, turning them slowly as
they did so; some shoved them up as far as they would go and kept on shoving; some stuck them onto hard surfaces with rubber suction cups and squatted on them, flexing their knees to move the hard
cylinders up and down inside them. Some had their legs as wide apart as they’d go, some had their legs pressed tightly together. Some played with their nipples, twisting and tugging with one
hand as the other controlled the vibrator, some concentrated entirely on their vaginas, using both hands. And when they came, some grunted, some panted, some squeaked and some screamed.

I surveyed my little audience. Nobody noticed. They were all fascinated. Jeanette had sat so far forward in her chair that her skirt had ridden right up – her stocking tops and suspender
straps were clearly visible. Rene was sitting well back in her chair with her heavy legs open, moving her hips every now and then as if to get more comfortable. And Karen and Sharon were biting
their lips. What they wore left nothing to the imagination and their nipples were very obvious, hard little spikes pressing against the material of their tops. When the screen went dark, I said,
“Well, ladies, this is the time when I suggest you try some of the goods for sale. You’ve seen what they’re for. All you’ve got to do now is pluck up your courage and try
before buying.” This was directly against company policy, but I always achieved high sales so no questions were asked; and it was rare for me to even have to do any cleaning, because what
they used they usually bought. “I’m game,” said Rene straightaway. “Takes no courage. I got off twice just watching.”

“Rene!” said Jeanette.

“Well, it’s true,” said Rene. “My knickers are soakin’. Are yours not?”

Karen and Sharon giggled. Nobody answered.

“Jeanette’s got plenty of rooms upstairs,” I said. “So to make it easier, I’ve put a selection of stuff in each one. Nobody needs to know about what you do but
you.”

“They can all watch for what I care,” said Rene, and rose heavily from her chair. “See youse upstairs.” She went out and we heard her climbing the stairs.

The drink had done a lot to loosen their inhibitions. It wasn’t long before they made their excuses – eeh, I need to go to the toilet anyway – and followed her, one by one, a
little unsteady with the drink. Only Kathy, the quiet one, was left.

“If you don’t mind, Pauline, I’d just like to see the video again.”

“No problem, Kathy. We’ve got copies for sale if you like it that much.” I rewound it for her.

About ten minutes later with Kathy watching fascinated as the woman in the sexologist’s office moaned and writhed again on her chair, I went upstairs with my order book.

The door of the first room – Karen’s bedroom – was ajar. I knocked and peeped round. It was Karen and Sharon, both naked. Sharon was lying on her front with her legs spread
wide and Karen was kneeling between them, holding her hair out of her face with one hand and shoving an anal vibrator up Sharon’s arse with the other.