Friday morning
Autumn has blown in with a vengeance early in the week. Cold, squally winds and heavy cold showers are yellowing the leaves and ripping them from the trees to be trodden underfoot.
My partner, Jen decides that walking to the station is no longer an option. Normally she dons sneakers with her business suit and walks the fifteen minutes down the country lanes to catch her train. She always says it’s quality thinking time to prepare for the day or week ahead.
It amuses me to see her in her designer suits, sheer black or blue stockings, silk lingerie and a beaten-up pair of Sketchers.
I roll out of bed where I’ve been enjoying my first coffee of the day whilst admiring Jen’s sleek naked body as she dresses and grab the car keys to drop her off.
Approaching the station is like looking down on an anthill. Dozens of high-end SUV’s and estate cars swarm the forecourt to drop their occupants off. In ninety minutes, the place will be deserted again until we repeat the performance in reverse come the evening.
With a quick hug and kiss, Jen hops out and runs towards the entrance leaving me to U-turn out of the entrance and head for home.
The automatic wipers kick up a notch as I enter the lane towards our cottage. The rain is blowing horizontally across the road and it’s a struggle to see much beyond my car’s bonnet.
Without warning, there is a blur of brown and a Muntjac deer breaks cover and streaks across the lane in front of me. I brake heavily feeling the anti-lock braking kicking in. With just a minor twitch on the wet leaves, I maintain direction and breathe deeply to calm my racing heart.
The first cottage down the lane is ours and then over the next two miles, there are three more cottages before the lane ends.
Just short of home I see an older model Volvo estate pulled part-way up the banking. I slow to see if the driver needs assistance. I may be off duty, but in my line of work, you're never really off the clock.
Being in an SUV as I slow alongside the Volvo, I can see the driver, a curly-haired blonde woman of about twenty who seems extremely distressed.
I quickly pull in front of her car and prepare to get out and check on her.
Now at this point, I should remind everyone that I was just driving my lover to the station. A ten-minute drive each way with no need to exit my nice warm car.
So what, I hear you all asking?
Well, it’s this. I am wearing my beat-up rain-stained Converse and a Berghaus jacket. Nothing more.
I step down from the car and do my best to tug my jacket down over my bare arse. It takes mere moments for the cold rain to wet my legs and the squally wind to hit my pussy lips.
Hurriedly, I walk over and knock on the driver’s window.
Close-up, I can see that the woman is very agitated.
I knock again, more gently this time and make my body language as non-threatening as possible.
“Are you okay. Do you need help?” I ask.
The woman first shakes her head, no.
Then she nods, yes.
I gesture for her to open the window and it slides open by three or four inches.
She is younger than I first thought, under twenty and her cheeks are red and tear-stained.
“I’m guessing you’ve broken down?” I say.
“Yes,” she sobs.
“Hop out and we’ll take a look.”
Immediately she becomes more agitated in her distress.
“I can’t get out of the car,” her weeping getting more profuse.
“Shall I hop in with you?”
More tears, “No, I’m not decent.”
I smile and try for eye contact, “If that’s all, don’t worry, I’m only wearing this jacket and I’m freezing my bare arse out here!”
“Really?”
I step back, allowing her to get a better view of my bare legs and barely covered pussy.
The window opens further, and I can see her visibly calm down.
“Hi, I’m Libby,” I offer, “I’m a police officer but I don’t have my warrant card with me.”
“I’m Sally, Sally Burgess.” She goes on to explain that she’s recently married to Brian and that they’ve taken one of the mill cottages further down the lane.
“Let’s take a look under the bonnet,” I suggest.
I can see Sally brace herself before the door opens and she climbs from the car.
She’s actually wearing less than I am. A very short, white cotton Broderie Anglaise chemise and Perspex wedge mule slippers trimmed in black fur. The mules look like something from a fifty’s sitcom.
The heavy rain instantly saturates the chemise and the now sheer material reveals a pair of full, firm breasts topped with large protruding nipples.
I try to avoid staring as she reaches back to pop the bonnet release. As I’m checking the engine bay, I can hear her almost whispering to herself, “Brian will be so angry if I’ve broken the car, he only used it last night and it was fine.”
I hop into the driver’s seat and scan the displays. “Well, if Brian wants to be angry, he can start with himself. The tank light is on and you’re out of fuel.”
“Really?”
“Yep, really, now let’s lock your car and go get warm and dry before I run you into town for some diesel.”
ooOOoo
Barely ten minutes later, we pull up outside my cottage and enter via the mudroom.
“Pull off that wet stuff.” I take charge as I kick off my sneakers and unzip the sodden Berghaus.
“My slippers are ruined,” Sally mutters, seeming once again to be on the verge of more tears.
“Maybe they will rinse up, but honestly they’re not very practical for country living.”
“Brian says a wife should dress in a feminine style and he bought these for me.”
“Maybe Brian should try wearing them!” I was half-joking but starting to have doubts about Brian.
“He chooses all my clothes.”
Taking a now naked Sally by the hand I started up the stairs towards the bathroom.
Arriving on the landing, Sally rocked to a halt.
“Who’s that in the picture with you?” she stuttered.
On the landing is a large framed print of Jen and me, naked and entwined, on a grand Victorian loveseat.
“That’s my partner, Jenifer.”
“You’re lesbians?”
“Yes.”
“Brian says it’s a sin and that you’ll burn in hell.”
“Maybe Brian is an ignorant bigot,” a statement that was out of my mouth before I could help myself.
“I’m sorry, I never meant to offend you. I will leave now.” Sally backs slowly towards the stairs.
Quickly I grab her hand and lead her to the bathroom.
“No, you need help, and this is just the place for it.” I speak firmly, and Sally responds. It’s obvious that she is used to being told what to do.
Our cottage dates to the 1850s and needed some renovation when we moved in. The first big job was to gut the ancient bathroom and to convert it to a sleek modern wet room.
Quickly I usher Sally inside and turn on the water, instantly filling the room with hot steam.
I move to my normal shower head and indicate to Sally that she should use the side favoured by Jen.
“Shampoo, body wash, conditioner, help yourself.” I start to lather my hair.
“These smell and feel so lovely. At home, I must use dish soap. Brian says anything else is vanity and a sin.”
I am now certain that Brian is an arsehole of the first degree, but I bite my tongue for the time being.
When we are both rinsed, I shut the water off and grab a couple of large fluffy bath sheets.
As Sally finishes drying herself, I grab a jar of L’Occitane body cream and before she can object, begin smoothing a handful into her obviously dry skin.
She flinches as my hands pass over a delightfully taut pair of buttocks and on closer examination, I can see dull, fading bruises.
“This must have hurt did you take a fall”
“Brian says a woman needs discipline to know her place in the world.”
“So he beats you?”
“Only if I sin or get things wrong. I creased his shirts wrongly and he said this would help me to learn.”
“Do your parents know how he treats you?”
“My dad arranged the marriage. He’s a pastor in our church and Brian is one of the deacons. I’ve always been punished, as have my sisters and mum if they transgress.”
I can hear the blood roaring in my ears as I struggle to damp down my anger. I need to remain calm if I’m to help young Sally and I won’t do that by scaring her off.
Again, I take her hand and lead her into our bedroom where I pull out some joggers of Jens and a tee of mine along with some thick knitted slouch socks.
Once Sally is dressed, I pick up a brush and smooth out her curly locks.
“Libby, can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” I reply.
“Why don’t you have hair around your loins.”
“Oh, well, I have it removed. Jen and I both keep smooth. We think it feels nicer when we make love.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Which, the waxing or the lovemaking?” I’m amazed by the naivety of the young woman before me.
“The waxing, I know the other hurts.”
“Honey, the waxing stings a little but you get used to it but making love should be pleasurable, not painful.”
“Brian says I must take his staff when and where he says and that only a whore enjoys sex.”
“What!”
“He says that my reward is giving him pleasure.”
“Oh Sally, I’m sorry to say this but your Brian is a complete fucking idiot. Let’s go and have some coffee and a chat.”
ooOOoo
For the next couple of hours, I sit around the open fire slowly getting Sally to reveal more of her life to me, the strange male-dominated church that she was born into and the abusive nature of her husband who sees her as nothing more than a servant to his needs.
It becomes obvious that she is isolated in their remote cottage. Brian allows her no money, no phone and habitually keeps the car lightly fuelled to prevent her travelling too far afield.
Should Sally transgress any of his many rules she can expect to be punished by anything from having food withheld, being bound in a darkened room to being beaten with a belt.
By lunchtime, I have heard enough. I call Jen and ask if she can make her way home early, and an hour later I collect her from the train station and pick up a five-litre can of diesel.
I drive the Volvo to Sally’s house and leave it in the driveway along with a handwritten note on the kitchen table that informs Brian that Sally has left him. The signature is barely legible due to the shaking of her hand as she signed it.
In the evening we sit with Sally and coax her through the panic attacks that followed leaving the note. I explain what the police could do to help, and Jen gives her a lawyer’s insight. Gradually, as the evening progresses, Sally calms down.
Eventually, it's time for bed and we lead her upstairs. The first dilemma is whether to make up the spare room for her or take her into our bed, not to exploit her obvious vulnerability, but to keep her calm and reassured. Unable to decide we put the choice to Sally.
She choses the spare room. We pull out fresh sheets and make up the bed. Jen shows Sally where everything is, and we leave her to settle in.
Jen and I sit up chatting a while and plan what we can do for Sally, and indeed how involved we want to get in what is obviously a complex and unpleasant situation.
I am all for doing everything we can, and my darling agrees without hesitation.
I roll across the bed and gently kiss Jen’s full lips, “I love you so much.”
“I can’t argue with your caring nature nor do I want to,” Jen whispers in my ear, “you have an inner need to care and help and that what I love about you.”
Another long firm kiss and I feel her hand slip between my thighs, her fingers flicking across my slit sending little tingles of anticipation deep inside me.
I gently lick her nipple as I know this drives her wild. Jen’s nipples are large and very sensitive.
She stifles a groan as I suck one nipple hard, drawing the tender flesh deep inside my mouth.
Jen responds by lightly scratching between my pussy and my ass before letting her fingertips pressure my pucker. Then her fingers scratch back the other way splitting my peach and releasing the juice.
Conscious of Sally in the next room, I swallow my normal noisy appreciation just letting a whimper escape my lips.
In moments I am rubbing Jen’s slick pussy as I pleasure her nipples. In return, Jen’s finger slips inside my wet slit, slowly opening me up while her other hand slips around to stroke my lower back.
We quickly follow a familiar dance. Our thighs part and our legs entwine allowing our pussies to kiss.
I can feel how wet Jen has become, her juices flowing freely to blend with my own.
I hiss in pleasure as our slick love lips touch, each of us applying pressure in turn as we establish a rhythm.
For a while, all I can hear is the blood in my ears, the soft rustle of our bedding and muted groans of pleasure.
Jen lets go first; she often does. Her clit is large and swells impressively. Her body stiffens and spasms in her release. It’s all I need to hit my own peak and I bite hard on the pillow as I feel my pussy release a flood of cum.
Jen lightly brushes my bare shoulder, and with a slight nod of the head indicates towards our bedroom door.
I have to kneel and wriggle to slip my legs from around Jen’s. Suddenly I’m conscious of how wet I am. Not just my pussy but my mound, my lower belly, my thighs, all coated with our combined cum.
The air is rich with the aroma of fresh fucking.
Sally is standing in the doorway. The light of the bedside lamp is reflected by her bare legs. She’s just wearing Jen’s old tee shirt. The thin grey material is tented over a pair of rigid nipples.
Tears run from her unfocused eyes and she’s staring off to some faraway place.
“Sally, are you okay?” I worry about her spaced-out appearance.
Slowly her eyes move to meet mine and then Jen’s as she stammers out a response.
I’m sorry, I can’t sleep, and I saw your light on and wanted the toilet, but I saw you. I’m sorry.”
Jen moves to wave her forward from the door, “It’s alright Sally, we should have closed the door.”
Ever so slowly Sally inches forward towards our bed. “I didn’t mean to watch but I couldn’t stop,” and with a deep sob, she whispers, “it was just so beautiful, so gentle, so loving.”
I reach forward and gently catch her hand to pull her to the bed. To my surprise, her hand is wet, slickly wet. Without thinking I raise it to my mouth and lick her slick fingers. Mmm, tangy girl cum. Not mine, not Jen’s; I know our flavours well.
“My loins are wet; I don’t know why. It’s not wee I promise,” she stutters, blushing a deep beet red.
“You’re aroused and your pussy, sorry your loins, are readying themselves for sex. Look at your nipples; see how hard they are.” Jen has taken her other hand and is gently stroking it as she quietly explains arousal to Sally.
I know that when their mum died, Jen acted as a mother to her kid sister and at times like this it shows.
I fear the answer but all the same I ask the question, “When you and Brian make love, don’t you get wet then?”
“No, he just pushes his staff in, and it hurts. It hurts so much and then he sprays his seed and pushes me away because I’m dirty.”
I’m gently rubbing Sally’s back and Jen her hand as she slowly reveals the horror that is her life.
“Could I sleep in your bed tonight?” Sally whispers whilst staring at her toes.
We both nod our blessings, and Sally slips between us, and Jen pulls the covers up.
ooOOoo
Saturday morning.
We’re awakened by a crashing noise from the drive. I look out and see the dirty green Volvo that I had left outside Sally’s house. Its nose is rammed into our wheelie bins.
“COME OUT YOU FUCKING CUNTS,” a slurred male voice is shouting from our porch.
I grab my robe and run down the stairs, “Stay with Sally,” I shout to Jen who’s already moving to comfort our now ashen-faced guest.
As I hurry down the stairs a flurry of thumps greets me as his fist hits the glass panels of the door.
I open the door swiftly and step forward into his space. If he is used to easily cowing the women in his life, he’s in for a surprise this morning.
Stale beer breath and BO assail my nostrils.
“Yes, can I help you?” I hiss out from between clenched teeth.
“Tell my whore wife I’m here and to get her fucking arse down here now.”
“What makes you think your wife is here?”
“That fucking busybody at the garage said she saw her with you yesterday.”
“Well, I’m afraid you’re mistaken, she’s not here. I did give her a lift to the garage yesterday when she ran out of fuel.”
“Fucking Cunt,” and with that, Brian steps forward to push through the door.
Unfortunately for him, the stiffened palm of my hand is travelling the other way with my full body weight behind it. Its impact on Brian’s nose is brutal. Blood flows and cartilage cracks.
Clearly not one to learn from his mistakes Brian staggers backwards a little from the blow but decides to charge forward once more.
As he comes forward, fist clenched and arm raised, I step towards him and gripping the outstretched arm use his momentum to spin him around and deposit him face-first into the wet gravel drive.
This time Brian stays down. Rolling in the wet gravel, he holds his arm where the elbow joint had failed to flex with the rest of his arm and now sticks out at an odd angle.
“Fucking dyke bitch! You’ve broken my fucking arm. I’m gonna get the fucking police on to you,” he half groans, half screams without making any attempt to stand up.
“No. No, you won’t, although the police will be involved very soon,” Jen’s calm authoritative voice comes firmly from behind me.
I turn to see her standing on our front step gloriously naked. Her long dark hair draping her shoulders glints in the weak morning sun.
“You have come to our home in a drunk and abusive state. You have tried to force entry and you’ve threatened us with violence and made homophobic comments all of which have been captured on CCTV.” Jen turns to indicate the camera mounted above the doorway.
“I am an officer of the court and my partner is a police officer and I can assure you that this is far from over and will not end well for you.”
Sally chooses this point to step from the shadows. Not just the shadows of our hallway but the shadows in which she’s lived her life until this point.
“Brian, you’re a coward and a bully. You have abused me since the day we were introduced but no more. Today, it stops.”
No longer cowed and timid, Sally steps forward past Jen and me to stand over her miserable excuse for a husband. Naked like Jen she stands hands on hips and tells Brian a few home truths as he lies whimpering at her feet.
“And what’s more I am making an official complaint of domestic abuse and assault so you can get the fuck out of my life. I never want to see you again.”
I manage to grab her just as she’s about to launch a savage kick to Brian’s head and hug her tightly.
“Well done Sally, nicely said,” I intervene.
Jen appears on her other side and we take a group hug before turning our backs on Brian and re-entering the cottage.
I slip the dead bolt.
ooOOoo
Once inside, I feel the tension that has been so thick in the air since we heard Brian’s car hit the bins just ebb away.
“Brrrrrrr, it’s cold,” Jen shivers.
“I can see that,” and with a giggle of relief, I raise a hand to stroke her hardened nipples.
“Me too.” Sally is cupping her own firm orbs and letting her fingers caress her nipples.
“Hot showers and then coffee and breakfast,” Jen declares before turning to the stairs.
Moments later we are dancing under the hot water letting the steam envelope our bodies.
Jen makes a handful of foamy bubbles and throws it at me. I toss a soggy bath puff at her and there follows a silly fight, all three of us throwing foam and soggy puffs at each other. It’s stress relief but it’s fun too.
Eventually, we get to the business of showering and as I’m running the razor around my legs and mound, Sally speaks.
“I have a whole lot of thank-you’s to say to you two and it will take me some time to get all that straight in my head.” I can see a tear trickle down her cheek, “but I meant what I said to Brian; my life will change from now and I want to change everything that he controlled and I’m starting now by shaving all this hair from my pussy. If you will show me how.” Jen reaches for her razor and slips on a new blade before telling Sally to sit up on the sink unit.
“Lots of hot water and foam, then long firm strokes as you pull the skin taut,” she speaks as she works, and soon Sally’s pussy is silky smooth, pink from the heat of the water.
Sally draws her fingers along her newly revealed pussy, “Mmm, that feels so nice.”
“Here, swap and try on mine,” Jen offers the razor and they swap seats.
“That’s it,” I encourage, “take her lip between your fingers and stretch it. There you go.”
Sally proves to be a natural at pussy-shaving and Jen groans her approval.
“Right, breakfast,” I announce and turn the water off.
ooOOoo
Once we’re all wrapped up in jumpers and leggings, we gather in the kitchen and Jen starts frying eggs and bacon while I put the coffee on, and Sally lays the table.
There’s no sign of Brian or his car.
It’s a long breakfast. We tell Sally that she’s welcome to stay as long as she wants. I explain how we will make all the necessary reports and Jen recommends a therapist that she’s worked with before who will help her.
There are tears and thanks from Sally. It all gets very emotional and Jen and I shed a tear or two with her.
ooOOoo
The first crocuses of spring are starting to appear, and Sally is ready to move out. It’s been a long winter for her, but the court case is behind her and she’s worked hard with her therapist. Now out of the shadow of her father and husband she has found herself to be strong in character and spirit.
Jen called in a favour from a client and a very reasonably priced apartment has been leased in the neighbouring town. It's near enough for her to visit when she wants but gives her the space to grow and develop.
Brian is detained at Her Majesty’s pleasure and wrapped up in restraining orders for when he’s released.
Sally is showing a strong interest in our lifestyle. She thinks that she has always been at least a little curious about women and that it’s not just the bitter experiences she’s had at the hands of Brian. We’ve guarded against exploiting her situation and any feelings of obligation she might have towards us.
That said, the regular visits she makes to the gym with us have toned and enhanced her naturally sexy body and I must confess that both Jen and I find her mouth-wateringly delicious.
We have talked about and demonstrated masturbation and she’s watched us pleasure ourselves and each other and on a couple of occasions brought us to orgasm as she’s shaved us.
Yes, the group showers continue and sometimes, either because sleep is proving difficult or just because she wants a cuddle, Sally curls up between us.
So, as we shed a tear and drive home from dropping Sally off at her new apartment, we know that we have a new friend. A friend for life and maybe one day a friend with benefits.
