COMPANION WANTED 2
This is a work of lesbian fiction. The names and scenarios existed only in the imagination of the author. If you are offended by stories of lesbian sex, please stop reading immediately.
(Lesbian College)
Just to refresh your memory, my name is Jennie Cabot. I'm 19-years-old, and a sophomore at UCLA. Those looking at my Mercedes AMG GT convertible might think that I have always lived in the lap of luxury. Far from it. I had grown up in a lower middle class home in Tracy, California, and the Pell Grants that I received, and my small Starbucks barista salary were the only things that were barely keeping my head above water in the expensive Westwood neighborhood where I lived and attended college.
My life changed for the better when I answered a curious personal ad from Lilian Chesterfield, a well-coiffed, well-put together, blonde-haired, 42-year-old Beverly Hills widow.
"Companion Wanted" the ad read, but offered few details. I was to learn that by moving into her beautiful estate, I would be expected to be Lilian's companion at social events... and in her bed.
While it might surprise you to learn that I was now a "kept woman... or girl," the agreement had worked out well for both of us.
I had always known that I was a lesbian, and had fooled around with another girl while in high school. However, we were both too scared to take things very far.
I became sexually experienced in the lesbian arts soon after arriving at the UCLA campus, where I met a tall, beautiful, graduate student from Norway. Brina was almost six years older than me, and had a voracious sexual appetite. Brina and I had remained lovers throughout my freshman year. After receiving her master's degree, Brina returned to live in Norway and begin her career as a chemical engineer.
Watching my beautiful, sexually insatiable girlfriend depart, perhaps forever, had been devastating for me. Worse, my modest funds had nearly run out. Even with my Pell Grant and a part-time job, I really could no longer afford things, and was desperate for a solution.
Becoming Lilian's companion had been a godsend. In an instant, gone was my $3,5000 monthly rent obligation, and the need to continue with my part-time job at Starbucks.
Lilian was a wealthy, former trophy wife. Her attraction to women, particularly young women, like me, had been largely theoretical. When I initially spent the night in Lilian's bed, I was surprised to discover that it was her first time with a woman or girl. As our intimate relationship progressed over the months, Lilian's lovemaking skills and her sexual appetite increased.
Having returned from a fundraising gala with Lilian, she kissed me as we began to undress for the night. I was wearing an expensive designer gown, and push-up bra, which made my modest A-cup breasts appear bigger than they actually were. Lilian stopped to kiss my enhanced cleavage as she helped to unzip me. It was clear that we would be having sex that night. I understood that it was my obligation, but I was feeling a little horny myself, and eager to feast on Lillian's big, firm, boobs.
While my breasts didn't resemble a porn star's, my body was extremely fit, and I was proud of my round, athletic bubble-butt, honed from years of playing volleyball.
Lilian reached into a nearby drawer, and handed me her latest sex toy. I fastened the black strap-on belt, with its menacing, thick dildo. My attractive older lover was no longer the shy, lesbian virgin I had met, and was proving to be quite experimental in our shared boudoir.
Gripping the shaft of the black dildo, I dabbed on a small amount of KY Jelly. Playing the part, and trying to look threatening, I parted Lilian's sheer robe, and began to feast on her 34-C boobs. Unfortunately, God had only given me a small pair of A-cup boobies. Although they were pink and pointy, like two small, puffy, Egyptian pyramids, I sometimes was self-conscious around bigger-busted girls.
Lilian said the whole thing was ridiculous, and liked my little boobs just they way they were. However, if I persisted in my boob-insecurity, Lilian offered to pay for breast implants, and long as I didn't get anything too big and obnoxious.
After softly licking and sucking Lilian's still-impressive breasts, I opened my older lover's legs, and impaled her with the thick, flesh-colored dildo. Lilian moaned softly as I lifted her legs to gain better leverage as I fucked her like a boy.
"Can you be a little rougher, honey?" I was surprised by the request, but I immediately responded by increasing my speed and tempo, crashing into Lilian's 42-year-old pussy with the thick rubber dildo. This seemed to satisfy her, and Lilian gasped and groaned appreciatively as I rammed her into the night.
I was still wearing the strap-on when I woke up the next morning. After showering, I drove my new Mercedes to the UCLA campus. "I have a weird life," I said to myself, shaking my head.
In our months together, I had proven to be much more than arm candy for the putative philanthropist and aspiring patron of the arts. My naturally friendly and curious personality, and well-rounded education served me well in my many interactions with Lilian's affluent, often elderly, high society friends.
Lilian was becoming mightily proud of her little "Tinkerbelle." She called me that because of the pixie haircut that I had when we first met. I fancied at the time that I looked a little like Jane Wiedlin from the Go-Go's, the iconic L.A. all-girl band. I had heard that Jane was bisexual.
I am only 5'5" in height, and weighed 105 lbs. soaking wet, yet I could see the lust-filled, envious looks in the eyes of Lilian's friends and fellow non-profit board members who complimented us on being an "out," age-different lesbian couple.
I have to admit, it was somewhat empowering to unexpectedly find myself as the object of sexual desire by the older men, and even by some of the otherwise "straight" women who surrounded Lilian.
Lilian eagerly began to immerse me in the arts. I had always had an interest, but had never had the money for plays, concerts, or art exhibits. I was a quick learner and enjoyed the many events that we attended.
While seeing a play, I had been impressed by a beautiful young actress, Deborah Shields, after seeing her portray the character, Cosette, in the popular musical, Les Miz, which had played at L.A.'s Ahmanson Theatre, where Lilian served on the Board of Directors.
As a sign of trust and appreciation, Lilian had somehow arranged for the blonde, 17-year-old actress to be an active part of a lesbian threesome with Lilian and myself. That night, my increasingly sexually adventurous "companion" made it clear to me that I was welcome to invite my college friends to her Beverly Hills home, and our shared bed.
It was a warm, early spring day in Los Angeles. Lilian, returning from one of her many philanthropic meetings, pulled into the driveway of her spacious Beverly Hills estate. My Mercedes convertible was already parked there. "Good," Lilian thought, "Jennie's home from school."
Handing her purse to her housekeeper, Lilian announced, "Tinkerbelle, I'm home." "She's in the pool," the housekeeper matter-of-factly said. Before returning to her duties, the woman added, "And she brought home a guest."
The well-built, well-dressed blonde woman who was only 42, walked to the backyard pool area. I was splashing in the pool with my school friend, Carly Schaefer, a pretty, blonde girl from northern California. Carly played midfield on UCLA's women's soccer team. We were both topless in the pool, and our young, taut nipples were erect in the cool pool water.
I brought Carly to the pool edge to meet Lilian. "Didn't I tell you that she was beautiful?" I asked my 21-year-old college friend. I playfully cupped and squeezed one of Carly's wet, B-cup breasts as I spoke, causing the soccer player to nervously giggle. Lilian look down admiringly at our youthful, half-naked bodies.
Carly nodded her blonde head enthusiastically to my question about Lilian. It was clear to all that we would be having a guest in our bed that evening.
As a former high school volleyball player, I had easily made friends with several of the girls on UCLA's many sports teams. Unsurprisingly, many of those female student-athletes were also lesbians, although some were still deeply closeted, at least publicly, or to their families.
It had taken several weeks of flirting with the athletic, ponytailed, 5'10" soccer player before I had been able to convince the pretty girl to spend the night at our Beverly Hills home. Being completely upfront, I explained my situation concerning Lilian. I'm not sure if Carly completely believed me about everything, but with her soccer season long over, I managed to convince her with a kiss.
After heading to her dorm room, Carly retrieved a sports bag with clothes and a bathing suit. We were soon topless and fooling around in the backyard pool. Carly's eager hands sought my puffy, pyramid-shaped A-cup boobs, and my anxious mouth descended upon her B-cup breasts.
Carly, a college senior, was sitting on the edge of our big bed. She was dressed in her usual night attire; a UCLA Soccer t-shirt and panties. I was wearing one of the many beautiful bra and panty sets that Lilian had purchased for me, and was excited to have sex with the long-legged college athlete.
I was brushing Carly's long, blonde hair as we looked at each other longingly in the dressing room mirror. I allowed my eager hand to clutch one of Carly's firm breasts. Unlike me, she wasn't wearing a bra.
Lilian eventually entered the bedroom. As always, she was dressed in an elegant negligee. There was a hunger in her eye as she looked at the new girl, whom I was already kissing. Sitting on the other side of Carly, Lilian replaced me, and began open-mouthed kissing the blonde, 21-year-old from the Bay Area.
Unknown to me at the time, Carly had first been seduced by her female club soccer coach when she was just 15, on an out of town trip without her parents. It had given Carly a desire for attractive older women, and Lilian certainly fit the bill. I noticed that Carly seemed to be turned on when I had described my living situation with my wealthy "companion."
Our little trio was soon naked, Carly initially seemed to ignore me, focusing instead on Lilian's bounteous C-cup boobs. The pretty blonde, whose hair I had just brushed, was sucking and squeezing Lilian's breasts, with an intensity that surprised even Lilian.
To remind Carly that I was still there, I impatiently ran my hand between her legs, rubbing Carly's trimmed, blonde pussy. Making room for me next to Lilian, we each suckled and nibbled on Lilian's big boobies. Looking like she was in ecstasy, Lilian stroked our hair as we feasted upon her mature breasts.
Reaching for the soccer player, Lilian brought the 21-year-old between her spread legs as she rested her back on elaborate headboard. Lilian was avidly groping and fondling Carly's perky breasts.
With Carly occupied with Lilian, I spread her long, athletic legs and began to lick her blonde-topped pussy. Lilian didn't ease up from squeezing Carly's tits as my tongue eagerly assailed the 5'10" soccer player's clit. Carly's stomach was undulating and her lower body twitching as I feverishly tongue-fucked Carly. It wouldn't be the last time I did so that night.
Lilian eventually replaced me between Carly's legs. Initially hesitant to go down on me, I had carried the load during the early part of our relationship. However, as the older woman gained experience and confidence, she became skilled in the art of cunnilingus. She thanked me for being a patient teacher.
As I watched my 42-year-old "companion" eagerly devouring Carly's pussy, I stroked Lilian's ass as I kissed and licked Carly's tits.
It wasn't the first lesbian threesome that Lilian and I had experienced, nor would it be the last. While I was quite satisfied with my sexual relationship with Lilian, our occasional guests, usually provided by me, were an exciting addition to our love life.
Waking up the next morning, Carly apologized as she dressed, saying that she had to get back to her dorm room to study for an important test. Carly would be graduating in May, and hoped to have the grades to get into a good law school.
"Tinkerbelle," she said laughingly after learning my pet name from Lilian, "Can you drive me back?" Nodding my head, I quickly put on a t-shirt, and slid on a pair of tight volleyball shorts, not bothering to wear Spanx or panties. My hair was a mess from a night filled with girl-girl-girl sex, so I threw a Dodgers cap over my dark hair. At Lilian's suggestion, I had been allowing it to grow. She had no idea who Jane Wiedlin was, apparently.
Now dressed, Carly gave Lilian a farewell kiss. Our mutual, older lover was still naked in the big bed, basking in the glow of a night filled with sex with two college girls.
Carly gave a final, dazzled look at the spacious, well-decorated bedroom and said casually, "This house would be a great place to have a girl party." With that, I drove Carly back to her dorm room. Even with her graduation looming, I was confident that it wouldn't be the last time that we would be hooking up.
With Carly and I out the door, Lilian laid naked in the bed thinking. "A girl party? Doesn't that sound exciting?" She thought. Lilian began to vividly imagine eight or more college-age lesbian girls in various stages of undress in her large home. "Hmmm..." she thought. "Hmmm."
The End of Part 2.
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