Where do I start with this one? Perhaps a bit of background would help, but not too much, as I know you want to get to the ‘good bits’ and, to be honest, so do I.

My name is Zara and I’m married to a quite gorgeous girl called Ffion. Yup, we are a lesbian married couple and both proud and happy with that status. On top of that, we both have very strong sex drives and revel in each other’s bodies, often!

We each have interesting jobs that take us overseas on a regular basis and we really miss each other when we travel, relying on phone sex and even skype so we can masturbate together – it’s good, but not great. Enough background? I thought so …

Not so long ago, we realised that Ffion was going to be away for a week, and we would just miss each other at the airport as I was due to fly out to some far eastern country on the day she returned. Two weeks without each other. What to do?

Ffion is probably sexually more confident than I am, and in a post-orgasmic haze, she quietly suggests a way to keep ourselves going until we are back together again. If we hadn’t just had an hour of exhausting, passionate lovemaking, I would probably have lost my temper at the idea and stormed out of the room, but I listen quietly, and my bodily responses suggest it’s too good an opportunity to miss.

“Are we completely confident in our relationship and do we fully trust each other?” she challenges.

“Of course – you don’t need to ask,” I snap back.

“Well, why don’t we push the boundaries a bit and have some fun?”

“Go on …”

Ffion then goes on to outline her naughty, dirty plan with no detail left out. Firstly, when she goes away, I am to go out to a pub on Saturday night, pick up a girl I fancy and see what happens. In the spirit of openness, I will give Ffion a blow-by-blow account of what happens when we chat on the Sunday via skype so we can share the experience. She will then do the same when I go away.

Pushing the boundaries? This is well out of my comfort zone, and I am expected to ‘go first’. I stay silent for a long time.

“Okay,” I say, “but I reserve the right to opt out if it gets too much.”

“Agreed.”

And so it is. Ffion catches a taxi to the airport on Thursday giving me two full days before Saturday night with my mind in turmoil over what is expected of me and what I am about to do.

Zara’s story …

I wake on Saturday morning with my heart pounding and my poor brain in overdrive switching between sheer panic and hyper-horniness. I spend the whole day in preparation – can you believe it takes that long? Washing my hair, painting my nails and toenails, shaving my quivering legs, armpits and pussy and trying on outfit after outfit.

I’m a slight girl, boyish you might say, but when I try, I polish up well and in the right clothes, I can make the most of what I have. So finally, I settle on my most gorgeous see-through lace knickers, a very short black leather skirt, a tight tee shirt with no bra – my nipples make up for my smaller boobs – a simple fluffy jumper that can come off if I get too hot, and fairly high heels to show off what I have been told are stunning legs.

So at last, it’s time to go out. I put a coat over my naughty outfit, head for the nearest pub that I believe is an attraction for like-minded girls as Ffion and I have both been there to eye up the local talent. My legs are trembling, and my instinct is to turn around, dive back into our flat, and make up some story to tell Ffion. The devil on my shoulder tells me to stop being a wimp and get on with it.

Head held high … ish … I walk into the bar, order a Tuscan, (you know, the old tuaca, lime and ginger ale with lots of ice kick, yum!), and find a corner table where I can watch the goings on. Halfway through my second, I spot her. OMG. I can’t do this – she’s gorgeous. Brunette, tall, her tight clothes setting off a stunning body and a pair of eyes that pierce right through me. I look away and study my fingernails in the time-honoured manner.

“Hi, I’m Liz.”

“Of course you are,” I say, missing the point completely because of my nerves, “and so am I.”

“No, silly, Liz, and you are?”

I look up and I’m enslaved. This stunning confident woman, perhaps five years older than me is already sitting down and we start to talk. Cutting to the chase, a chase that has clearly already started and been won in moments by the delicious Liz, the talk doesn’t last too long and we down the remains of our drinks and head for the door.

Words seem unnecessary and we find ourselves back at my flat, no, our flat, Ffion and my flat, my wife and my flat, with a girl who I am not married to but I have full permission to have coffee with. Fuck the coffee. Thank goodness I put clean sheets on the bed and tidied away the detritus of my many rejected outfits earlier in the day. I’m trembling with nerves.

We stand facing each other and once again, words are superfluous. Ffion was my lesbian mentor and took control early on to teach me how to handle a woman and Liz is clearly quite dominant and so I happily just follow her lead.

Her eyes drill into mine as we stand facing each other.

“Just do as I say,” she says firmly but gently. I swallow hard and nod.

“I want you to undress slowly, but look into my eyes all the time as you do.”

I comply by taking off my shoes first, then my skirt and then stop. This is too scary. There’s no going back if I keep going. I keep going.

“The tee next,” she says and I am unable to do anything but comply. I’m now standing in my see-through knickers and nothing else. Her breathing has got heavier and I can see she’s aroused – my confidence increases as she is clearly enjoying my nakedness and is staring at my nipples, pebbled in their arousal.

Without saying another word, she sinks to her knees and, reaching out, she slowly pulls down my now damp knickers and I step out of them, leaving her to put her hands on my bum and pull my sex onto her face where she buries her nose between my thighs and breathes in the rich aroma that now fills the room.

Standing up, she looks me up and down again with those eyes seeing straight into my innermost desires I feel sure. She throws a pillow onto the middle of the bed and orders me to lie face down with the pillow lifting my bottom into the air. What the? Unable to argue, I do as she says, my heart pounding and I listen as her clothes hit the floor.

“I suspected as much,” she chuckles, opening a drawer next to the bed and pulling out my favourite Lelo vibrator. Oh shit, it’s actually Ffion’s, and that thought brings my guilt straight back to the forefront of my mind. But not for long and at least, I know that the batteries will be working, with lots of spares if needed – good girl Ffion. I digress. Liz climbs onto the bed and lies on top of me, but reversed, with her legs astride my neck, and her head very close to my arse. I can feel her nipples digging into my lower back and I shut my eyes and wait.

Liz is a good lover, and by that, I mean a fucking good lover. It seems that her whole being is focussed on my pleasure, at least for now. She gently pulls my arse cheeks apart and blows on my now exposed ring sending a tingle up my spine. Turning on the vibrator, she teases my pussy lips, already swollen and weeping their pleasure.

The weight of her body is luxurious and with her gentle ministrations, I feel that I’m floating in space with the centre of the universe located firmly around my pussy and backside. The vibrator is gently finding its way deep into my core and I jump slightly as I feel Liz’s tongue circling the area around my bum gradually focussing on that most sensitive area, her tongue probing and the vibrator doing its duty in my now sopping pussy.

Oh yes. That feeling. You know the one. You can almost measure the distance it is away from you with that sensational pleasure building gradually as you feel the approaching orgasm. Closer now. Liz’s tongue working its magic, the vibrator, Ffion’s vibrator – I pretend it’s her for a moment – adding to the swell of delight building up in me. Almost there. This … is … bliss. Liz senses that I’m on the cusp, and just as I begin the moment of ‘no going back now’, she slips a finger deep into my arse and I scream out as never before and tears stream down my cheeks. Tears of pleasure. Tears of joy and yes, tears of guilt.

Liz stays still. Nothing is said and for a few moments, I doze off with her body still pressing into mine.

“I enjoyed that,” she says.

“You enjoyed it?” I splutter, “Your turn now.”

Still firmly in charge, she slides off me and flips me over, moving the pillow from under my hips to behind my head. Stretching her leg across me, she kisses me and then kneels, her pussy moving inexorably towards my waiting lips. She holds the head of the bed as I wallow in the bliss of her aroma, her wetness and the succulent folds of her beautiful pussy. Ffion has taught me well, and I know I’m good at this. Judging by the noises above me, Liz thinks so too.

I move up just a little, take that sweet bud between my lips, and then give it a very gentle nip with my teeth. I hear a squeal; of pleasure I hope. Flicking my tongue around her clit, trying to write the alphabet with my movements, I feel the tension mounting in Liz’s body. I put my hand on each of her firm, ripe, round buttock cheeks and pull her in for the kill.

“Oh my good god,” she shrieks, and then appears to hold her breath forever, before panting out, “Yes, yes … … … YES!” and she comes flooding my upper body with her juices.

A few moments later, we are entwined in each other’s arms sound asleep.

It’s morning, and we both wake together, and the guilt comes crashing in.

Liz was not supposed to stay overnight, it was supposed to be a quick fuck and away. I can’t tell her that, so I make coffee, we reminisce a bit about last night and she seems to understand that, much as I’d love to fuck her again, like now, like I really, really would like to fuck her again, it would make life too complicated, so with a friendly kiss she leaves me to wonder what to tell Ffion.

I won’t take your time telling you about what Ffion and I talked about on skype, as you are dying to know how she gets on when I am away. Suffice to say that she now knows everything but at the time I was so ashamed at how much I enjoyed my time with Liz, I kept some of the details, including the overnight stay, firmly to myself.

Ffion’s story …

You have to remember that I knew only a part of Zara’s story after I returned from my business trip. Good enough for me was that she had gone through with the idea, albeit a bit reticently but the green light was clearly on and I wasn’t going to miss out, even if I was going to miss Zara.

Saturday comes around as it always does, and after a shit few days back at work following my trip, I plan to relax and then follow through with our agreement. I’ve done this before as you may have gathered, but not since I met Zara, so the novelty is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. But I’m me, so to hell with the nerves.

I have a shower, throw on some clothes that are to hand and plan to take my pick tonight and not wait to be asked. So, with post-shower hair, skinny white jeans emphasising my potent posterior, no undies to spoil the line, and a white tank top, I’m ready for action. The irresistible force! White flatties to complete the ensemble and I’m off.

Zara mentioned the pub she had chosen so I jump in a taxi and go a bit further afield to another of my old haunts. It’s quiet but, hey, the night’s young. I stroll around with my drink, ignoring the looks I’m getting from men, more importantly, some very attractive girls, some alone, some in pairs and a few in a small group. But no, tonight is for me, I’m going to choose.

And then there she is. A quiet, mousy girl, looking at her drink, looking helpless, like a fish out of water and obviously new to this game. Game? Game on!

“Is this chair free?” I ask, assuming the old line is as good as any with this girl. “I’m Ffion, by the way.”

“Er, sure, I think so,” the demur little wallflower replies. “Charlie.”

“I’m getting a drink – fancy something?”

I choose to overrule her request for a diet tonic, but get her a Bombay Sapphire and normal tonic, tell her that’s what I’ve done, and get a smile for the first time. She’s pretty.

We chat, but you don’t really want to hear the small talk do you? She’s sweet and we get on really well. It turns out it is her first time. She’s a mature student at the University, although young for a mature student, a bit older than me I suspect, and only just coming to terms with her sexuality. Perfect! Ffion goes into teacher mode.

Discovering that Charlie lives nearby, we walk back to her flat, a rather shabby building with student rooms but she has made hers her own, and it’s warm and welcoming. How fast should I go. Slow down, Ffion, slow down.

We chat some more and drink a glass or two of her palatable white wine when she suddenly blurts out,

“What do we do next? Help me here … please?”

As the saying goes …

I take her by the hand and lead her into the bedroom which she has clearly spent time preparing – for what, she seems to have no idea.

“Why don’t we take this slowly Charlie,” I say, “you’re nervous and need to relax. Undress me slowly and you won’t feel so vulnerable if I’m naked first.”

She gasps as my tank top comes off and there’s nothing on underneath. I kick off my flatties and she leans in to me to undo my jeans. They’re tight so she slips her thumbs under the seam at the back to pull them down and seems to stop breathing as she realises I have no knickers on and her thumbs are gently raking down and around my bottom.

“Nice?” I say, turning round so she can complete the task and I can feel her stare burning into my arse cheeks as she takes in the view.

I stand naked before her and she asks if she should undress, but I inform her that it’s my job; fair’s fair. She is beautiful and I wallow in the task of stripping her down – it takes time. Jumper, blouse, bra, shoes, skirt, tights and, oh dear, Bridget Jones’ knickers.

“We’ll talk about dressing to kill later,” I say, “but you look far better naked than dressed in that lot.”

She looks at the floor and I feel guilty, but divert her attention by just giving her a hug, boob to boob, pussy to pussy, and a kiss, lips to lips. This is going to be fun.

But to business. This needs to be a success for both of us. I can’t see Zara and me allowing ourselves to do this more than once, so I need to have a really good time and she’s a novice. It needs to be a success for her because, well, she’s a novice, and if she’s quietly coming out, I don’t want to be the one who puts her off.

Instinctively we lie on the bed and I tell her how it will be so she isn’t constantly worried about whether she’s doing the right thing or not. She’s had fairly regular sex with men, she told me earlier, but it was never satisfactory and she thought it was just her, but lately has realised how attracted she is to other women. Go girl!

I suggest that I make her feel good first, then she can return the favour, and we can improvise later if she’s confident enough. Without a word from me, she nods and kneels on the bed with her bottom facing me. Hmm, not so shy perhaps. She wiggles her tush and I instinctively give it a playful slap. She groans.

“That’s the bit of my experience I really enjoyed, “ she says, so I spank her beautiful round cheeks several times each until they glow red and feel hot to the touch. She moans and whimpers at my touch. I finish each slap with a gentle stroke, complete this phase with a little rimming, and gently push my finger passed her sphincter until she’s gasping for air; well at least we know what pushes her button.

Lying on the bed, I put my hands on her bum, draw her dripping pussy to my lips, and work my magic. It doesn’t take long before she’s moaning and shaking as she comes hard, pressing down on my face and I have to hold my breath until she recovers her composure.

“Now, let’s try that again Charlie,” I say, “but this time, we’ll 69 and you will make me come and I will make you come again.”

My confidence is not as strong as my words but this girl needs leading.

We switch around and now she is lying on the bed and I am on top. She gets the idea very quickly and her ministrations to my so far deprived pussy are sending me off in the right direction – I am having difficulty in concentrating on her needs so add two fingers to the mix and fuck her tight little cunt as I lick and flick at her clit.

She gets the message and adds fingers to work on me as well. This is good. This is very good. Not all first timers pick things up this quickly and it’s not long before we both cry out and amazingly come together as she rolls over on her side and thanks me.

Wow, a spanking, a finger in the bum and two orgasms for a newbie; this girl has what it takes and with a bit of confidence, the local girls had better watch out.

Believing at the time that Zara did not spend the night with her girl Liz, I regretfully get up, we shower together and kiss, and ok, I confess, we give each other one more orgasm in the shower with her waterproof vibrator. Time to go home and share the detail with Zara in the morning.

The reunion … Ffion

Zara arrives home and we have both taken a day off to reconnect after our time apart, which of course we spend in bed. Whether it was the separation or the naughty interludes we had both had during that time, our lovemaking was just blissful.

We started just kissing and chatting and holding each other but as the chatter died down, we both worked hard to prove our love in the most powerful way known to humankind, sex. Both eager to be in control to prove we weren’t being selfish, the sex was almost a wrestling match, with each taking turns to lead, and then switching around. Each bout resulting in an orgasm for one, or the other, or both, followed by a short rest. What a day; absence as they say …

The reunion … Zara

As Ffion says, the impact of our experiment has not dented our relationship and the sweet taste of Ffion on my return just drove home to me how much I love her.

We didn’t spend all day in bed as Ffion suggests, we decide to go out in the evening and get something to eat to restore our flagging energy.

Tucking into our salads at the local pub, we both look up at the same time as a girl is walking past us.

“Liz?” I shout.

“Charlie?” Ffion echoes.

OMG, it’s the same girl.

She comes and sits down beside us and asks if we’ve seen a ghost.

And then it all comes tumbling out. She is a very experienced lesbian with no current partner and she loves role play. She’s studying psychology at the University, so at least that part was true, and she uses her sexuality as some sort of experiment. The night she picked me up, she was in a dominant mood and saw me as the shrinking violet that needed rescuing.

When Ffion was on the prowl, she just happened to be pretending to be the opposite. She carried off both very well, although the spanking and her oral skills might have alerted Ffion more than it did.

Oh, and the name? She’s always been Liz for this game of hers but changed it when I stumbled at the first hurdle.

“I think we need to discuss this in more detail,” says my lovely wife, and three of us head home for some serious discussions.

Maybe, just maybe, if you want to know what happens when we got home, just record a comment and we’ll see.