Flora and Chloris Ch. 01

FLORA AND CHLORIS: 1

By

Norma Jane

1

Of sexual adventuring there is no end. So it seems, for even at my advanced years, new encounters are still possible. As recently, when a new woman joined our small team of English as a Second Language Tutors. Retired from teaching, she become restive, wanting a new challenge. Such as venturing into remoter parts of the UK and Europe to help those needing to improve their English.

We were at supper in a hostel in a small town near the Baltic, when Flora joined the three of us already acquainted. Having seen her CV, we knew her professional history and that she was in her late sixties. We have no age limits, and some of us are even older than me. Before she sat to table we observed that she was tall and lean, with close-cropped white hair, concertina-pleated skirt, no hosiery, and trainers. She appeared fit, business-like, with laughter-lines around the eyes, and a confident air.

She assembled a modest meal from the buffet and sat down opposite me. When our gazes meshed there was an immediate rapport. This was a mature, no-nonsense woman, ready for fresh engagements of all kinds, free of prejudices, assumptions and taboos. We recognised each other, is how I express it. There was also a frisson of sexual arousal. I felt, too, a sense of awe, aware that she had had experiences foreign to me. I regard such women as goddesses, possessed of a special spiritual and emotional depth.

After supper, we held our usual planning meeting, surveying the list of participants and the facilities, settling who would do what during the next three days. Then we retired to our rooms. I took a shower, brushed my teeth, and dressed again, with clean knickers, of course. If, when, Flora came calling we would want to begin all investigations bathed and clothed. And it was not long before there was a knock on the door, and there she was, dressed as before, but with sandals now. I took her hands and drew her into the small, strictly functional room, in which there was only one upright chair at a little bedside table, a small wardrobe with hanging space and shelves, and a single bed, on which we sat side by side, turned towards each other, smiling, happy to be together.

She said, 'You were expecting me.'

'You knew I would be.'

'You had a shower.'

'So did you,' I said.

'And you put on clean knickers.'

'So did you,' I said.

She said, 'Just to be clear, I'm not only lesbian. I'm omnisexual is the best way to put it,' she said.

'Likewise,' I said, and we were silent a while, enjoying the anticipation.

'To be practical,' she said, 'Is there anything I should know about you?'

'Well,' I said, 'Being rather an old lady, nowadays I'm sometimes a little dry. But not on this occasion, it seems.'

'A certain dampness in the gussy?'

'Correct.'

'Same for me. We'd have found that out quite soon, but that's something to look forward to.'

We turned further towards each other, embraced and began a gentle kiss, which slowly intensified, to the point that we stood, locked together, tongues sliding back and forth, breathing more quickly. Then we loosed each other, gazed intently into each others' eyes and waited for each other to speak or move.

'I'm going to undress you,' I said, to which she replied, 'I thought you might.'

'I'm a voyeuse,' I said, beginning to unbutton the blouse.

'I know,' she said, 'I am, too. I like to absorb the vision into my cunny, is how I would express it. You're going first, it seems. I hope you'll like what you see.'

The blouse was soon hung over the back of the chair, and I contemplated the neat, white bra, in which nestled her small breasts. She said, 'Not much of a bosom, I'm afraid, but they respond to kindness.'

'I'll get to them,' I said. 'Before that I'd like to see the set,' and I unzipped the skirt at the side and drew it down to her ankles, knelt to remove the footwear and she lifted her feet for me to pick up the skirt and drape is over the blouse.

Not many women wear a petticoat or slip nowadays, but she was wearing one, and I drew that down and off, too, so that now she was standing in the underwear. And it was time first to enjoy it and then remove it. She turned round to enable the unfastening of the bra, which was soon lying on the skirt. 'I'm saving the sight of those pretty titties,' I told her, 'When the pussy comes into view. Now I'm going to relish the bottom.'

I knelt behind her, studying the perfect fit of the knickers. Smooth and pale blue, they encompassed a pair of perfect cheeks. Often even the best fitting knickers allow a segment of buttock to escape, as the leg elastic slips out of the underbum crease, the sulcus. Not Fiona's. All was, indeed, safely gathered in. 'Heavenly,' I said. 'I knew you were a goddess.'

She laughed and said, 'Well, thereby hangs a tail, as you might say.'

'Oh yes,' I said, 'First the bott, then the Botticelli.' I slipped fingers into the elastic over the hips and slowly peeled down the panties.

She shivered at my touch and said, 'It's rather sensitive, which can be useful.'

I stopped with the garment held on the thighs just below the swell of that perfect posterior, and bent forward to kiss the cheeks in turn. Then I held my lips against the cleft, extended my tongue into it and licked my way up and down, drawing further shivering, and the comment, 'Not many lovers know about bummy lingus.'

It was time to turn her round, and, as I stayed kneeling, what came into view was her taut stomach and below it the bunched strip of knicker, which I had carefully positioned to be a curtain for the pudenda. 'Ah,' she said, looking down at me, 'Not quite the dance of the seven veils, more like the one-step of the single knicker.'

'The exhilaration of this moment never fails,' I said. 'I'm going to enter the enchanted forest - ' She interrupted, 'Not much of that, you'll see, more a modest copse.'

Without more ado, and without yet scrutinising what was hidden, I drew the knickers down and off. I sniffed them, and they were a little damp, but had more scent of talcum powder than pussy. And when I focused on the pubis I was surprised, because within the close-cropped hair, fanning out from the mons there appeared to be no inner lips. Instead the labia majora alone formed the vulval slit. I wondered if she'd had labia-plasty. As I gazed, she said, 'Almost fringeless. Been like that from puberty. If you open the majora you'll see.'

'They vary hugely, of course,' I said, 'But this is lovely. I'll have a closer look soon, but first there's more unveiling,' and I stood, reached round her to unlatch the bra and drew it off. The breasts were so firm they hardly moved, just settled a little, nipples already erect within the neatly circular areolae. I bent to kiss them, taking one in my lips and tonguing it. She said, 'Sensitive those, too. I can climax with those.'

I urged her gently backwards until the backs of her knees met the bed and she sat down on it, then lay back. 'I haven't had sex for quite a while,' she said. 'My lover had to go abroad.' This prompted me to ease the frustration by kneeling again and spreading her legs for access to that interesting vulva, now a fraction open, with a line of shiny lubricant along it.

It invited me to place my hands either side of those plump labia and pull them further open to reveal a clitoris already half-erected, I guessed, emerging from the upper end of the labia, protruding like a little penis, asking for osculation.. I couldn't resist the invitation and leaned forward, sliding my hands, palm up, under that charming bottom, and bringing my lips to bear on the little pleasure-pearl.

'Oh, yes, please, be Zephyr to my Chloris. You know your Primavera.'

If you know the Botticelli painting, you will recall that on the right a male figure, the spring wind Zephyrus, is grabbing a female, the nymph Chloris, and this turns her into the Goddess of Spring (hence the title of the picture - Spring), Flora. To the left, the Three Graces dance attendance on Venus, and further left is the God Hermes. I was, therefore, now to attend to Chloris to bring the flush of spring to Flora, and I took that sweet clitoris between my lips and swirled my tongue around it. At the same time, I edged the tip of my right little finger into her anus and slid the middle finger of my left hand into her vagina.

'Oh, Zephyr,' she said, 'You know how to transform a nymph. I feel my goddess coming. She's coming, my Zephyr, coming. Here she comes!'

I held her bottom as it bounced up and down on the bed, in time with the spasms of her gasm. After a while I withdrew my lips and fingers, and she let out a big sigh, and said, 'Oh, Norma, Norma, thank you, thank you. That was lovely.

'Eases the pressure somewhat,' I suggested.

'Yes. And now I want to do the same for you.'

'That won't be difficult,' I said. 'I'm half way there and more. Someone else coming usually brings me to the brink - sometimes over.'

'Stand back, then,' she said, sitting up, 'And let me strip you down.'

'That can wait,' I said. 'Just feel into my knicks and zephyr my chloris.'

She slid her right hand up the front of my thighs and I opened them. Her left hand moved up the back of my legs and delved into my knickers to palm my right cheek. The right fingers of her right hand probed into the gusset. 'Do you like your bottom held?' She asked.

'Love it,' I said, 'And you're in the groove, and = oh, yes, you've homed in on the sylph. Just a little touch, and - cram in some digits, if you can, Oh, yes, you can. Push hard, please. That's it! Coming, coming!' I rocked back on forth on my feet, and my bottom clenched tight and gripped her fingers.

'Eases the pressure somewhat,' she said, 'But more to come, as you might say.'

'As for you, too,' I said. 'I can see how those pretty titties have swelled a treat, and I haven't yet relished them enough.'

'And I'd better get you out of that bra before your boobs go boom and blow it off.'

She stood and briskly stripped me, stepped back and said, 'They certainly swell, and those nipples are lovely.' She bent to lick and suck, before, with mutual consent, we lay down on the bed, nearer arms holding each other, the hands of the others gently caressing each other faces to hips. I noted those fascinating labia were a little open, and my fingers gently made their way in and traced the vulva up and down, pausing just short of her entrance and of her chloris, as we were to call our clits, it seemed.

Her fingers did just the same for me, and it was clear we were going to keep this stroking going until we came, hoping to make the gasms coincide. She said, 'This is like an intimate introduction isn't it? Like shaking hands, but shaking chlorises. We've said Hallo, but now we're properly greeting each other.'

'Yes,' I said. 'This is how women bond, in a shared orgasm.'

'With breasts as well,' she said, Moving to bring her lips to bear on my nearer one, licking and sucking as her fingers edged my chloris.

So I sought hers, rubbing beside it against the inside of the vulva. After a while it was my turn to suckle at her sweet nipples.

She said, 'Come now, Norma Zephyra, take me there, and the slow climax possessed us. After which, tired from the long journey and our love-making we fell asleep.

2

We worked hard next day, sometimes separately, sometimes alongside each other, sometimes with another tutor. We had no time to converse, as through all breaks, with drinks and food, we continued working. But we were always aware of each other, anticipating the evening.

She arrived at my door soon after supper, walking in to embrace me, as I'd hoped, saying, 'No shower, no clean knickers,' and at once stripping off.

'Correct,' I said. 'Aroma time,' stripping off.

We exchanged knickers and stuck our noses in the gussets. She said, 'No two alike and all varying all the time, but there's an underlying aphrodisiac.'

'Yes,' I agreed. 'I've known men and women who nearly fainted with a good gasp of gussy. Aphro-dizzy-ac.'

'I was het up already,' she said, 'But now I feel ready for gasm and gasm.'

'But,' I said, 'You're tense beyond that, your whole system needs clearing. Probably because it's a while since you've had sufficient stimulation.'

'That sounds right, Dr Norma,' she said. 'What's your prescription?'

'Comprehensive massage,' I said. 'Lie face down on the bed.'

I turned back the covers to reveal the towel spread out ready. I picked up the bottle of oil from the table, and said, 'Tell me your history, Goddess Flora. I'm eager to learn everything about you, and it may help you, too.'

As I spilled a little oil on her back she said, 'First, every part of me is trained, inside and out. My husband left when I was twenty-eight. He said I was insatiable, but that just mean he couldn't be bothered to find out what gave me pleasure. So, when I'd recovered from the disappointment and rage; I decided to start a course of self-discovery, which would fine tune my every nerve, every potentially orgasmic cell, nipple to navel, lips to labia.'

'What did this involve?' I asked, kneading the shoulders and upper arms.

'I signed up with a gym and a woman fitness trainer. There weren't so many of them back then, but I shopped around to find someone who understood what I wanted. And I found Jetta, as she called herself, and she guided me all the way, workouts, running, diet, attitude, all the way to masturbation techniques. And she brought me to climax after climax at night, when no-one else was there, and I learned ways to make a woman come. She didn't rule out sex with men, but '

'You needed to know your body in all its stages and phases first,' I suggested, arriving at the small of her back.

'That's right. How to guide a partner to your special needs and capabilities. For instance, what about anal entry? Would I like that, if a man wanted it, or another woman wanted to finger me off up the bottom?'

'What did Jetta suggest?' I was now, appropriately, smoothing, gripping and releasing her adorable bottom, preparing for the next step.

'Well-creamed hairbrush handle,' she said. 'The aim was to get the anus used to intrusions, to control the sphincter, enable it to relax, and eventually to enjoy the sensations. There's even a kind of G-spot up there, you know, a particular pressure point.'

I slid the fingertips of my right hand into and down the bottom cleavage and felt for her anus. She laughed and said, 'You did say comprehensive. So now you want me to let a finger or two up there. All right, Dr Norma, you're in charge.'

Actually it'll be the thumb, because I'm going to try the three-pronged approach.'

'Sounds intriguing. I'm guessing - '

As my left hand fingers embraced the left cheek I turned my right hand, slid the fingers down the crack to tuck underneath and drove the oily thumb into her anus.

She said, 'Oh, straight in, prong one, I suppose. Feels good Now what?.

'You need quite a big hand for this,' I said, 'And fortunately I should be able,' and I felt forward and underneath to tuck my first and second fingers into her vagina.

She said, 'Double digitting, then.'

'Actually triple,' I said, and now for the hard part. Keeping the fingers already inserted inside her I slid the third finger along her vulva, seeking her chloris. It is tricky, because it's the back of the finger completing the manoeuvre and controlling the contact with the clitoris can be chancy. But on this occasion I seemed to be operating with extra precision, because she began to rock back and forth, clenching and relaxing her bottom, breathing harder and making appreciative humming sounds.

Watching her bottom, feeling my digits flexing a little, probing, squeezing, drifted me into one of those states which seem to transcend orgasm. The whole system tingles and the mind goes blank, thought banished, brain suffused with heightened consciousness.. It is a highly spiritual condition, I think, quite rare, and I call it the 'gorsma,' because it is a kind of climax, but it doesn't ebb away. I remain on a plateau of timeless refined pleasure.

She sensed it, and passed into a proto-climactic state, aroused to near orgasm but able to maintain the state of being until I intensified my stimuli. 'Norma, Norma,' she murmured, 'I'm in heaven. I'm going to come in three places.'

'Soon, darling, soon,' I said, pushing fingers and thumb deeper into her depths and gently probing beside her chloris. With my left hand I stroked and squeezed her bottom, until I felt the first spasms in rectum and cunny, when I withdrew a little and plunged in again, withdrew and plunged as her orgasm took possession. From some inner chamber came a sound like a cello string echoing in a cave. It seemed to last an hour, then died away as her body went limp.

After some while she stirred and I withdrew fingers and thumb. A glorious scent of vagina, sweat and bottom filled my nostrils, and I breathed it in as if it were nourishment. She turned over, and said, 'Lie close, Angel Zephyr,' and we lay limbs entwined,

She said, 'Jetta was married, and that meant I was not permitted to touch her, other than to examine any part of her body I wanted to see, and her handling me was apparently covered by the term "massage," all part of the service, and also within the terms of her mission to teach women to love, enjoy, totally inhabit their bodies. So she usually brought me to orgasm to round the session off.'

'What about the rest of your life?' I asked, and I will relay her story with her narrating in the first person, to avoid speech marks inside speech marks.

3.

My son was seven, and my mother was living with us, running the house and taking care of him when I was out. I was teaching juniors at the time. I think she knew about Jetta, but she also knew I wanted some kind of mutually satisfying sexual relationship beyond Jetta's tutorials. Jetta knew that, of course, and eventually, when she thought I was ready, she suggested I take up badminton, and she would introduce me to Sidonie, another woman she'd been similarly coaching, who was also ready for the next stage of initiation into the mysteries of female physiology and gratification. I was happy to comply with this proposal, and I joined a club and formed a partnership with Sid, as she was known.

We were wary of each other at first, reluctant to acknowledge that we'd been paired off by Jetta for a lesbian liaison. But we formed a strong partnership, and quite soon became good friends. We spent more and more time together, off the court, discovering shared tastes, ideas and diversions. But we were always careful not be naked or shower together, as if scared of what might happen if we became too mutually visible in any but decorous situations, although we were actually longing to get closer..

Then came the night we were the only ones on court under the lights, and there was no-one else in the changing rooms. It was show-and-tell time, no more pussy-footing, time for pussy fondling.

After an energetic rally, as we stood panting either side of the net, she suddenly pulled her tunic off over her head and draped it over the net, looking at me with a mixture of defiance and desperation. Which is a good moment to describe her. She was tall, and thin to the waist. I'd long since realised she didn't wear, didn't need, a bra, and now, there were her shallow breasts, like upside down saucers, with little nipples hardly protruding from neat, round areolae. 'See?' she shouted, 'Nothing much to see, to inflame your lesbian lusts.'

'Well,' I said,' I think those are rather charming. I could cheerfully chew on those cute little buds.'

'Not too freaky, then?' she demanded. 'Do I qualify as a woman, then?'

'Being a woman's not about how big your tits are, you know,' I told her. 'I thought good old Jetta got us clear about that.'

'She was good was Netta, yes,' Sidonie agreed, walking round the net to stand in front of me, almost had me convinced, but who wants a six foot flat-chested beanpole? No-one, I can tell you. No-one's ever shown any interest.'

'Well,' I said, 'I was ready, but I thought you weren't sure, or even interested. I've got to like and admire you a lot, you know, for a start.'

'I like you, too, but I never thought you'd be able to get excited by my stringy old bod. And you haven't seen all of it yet, and when you do - '

'Is it so horrifying?' I asked.

She turned her back and pushed down the whole sports knickers. If her breasts were shallow, her bottom was certainly not. It stuck out from the coccyx with almost no slope before it reached full cheek-depth. Each side was a perfect half globe, with hardly any crease beneath, and while the cleft was closed tight at the top it naturally parted lower down, so that the anus was visible, and, if you bent to look under, between the thighs, her vaginal opening was also visible, also slightly open between hairless, fringing inner lips.

'Wonderful! 'I said, 'Both immediately available. Or is that the result of arousal?'

'Not exactly shy are they, my tunnels?'

'So exciting, 'I said. 'I'm oozing already.'

'Not too eager, my friend,' she said, turning round. 'What about this?' And 'this' was a huge clitoris, at least an inch long, and, I surmised, potentially longer when erect. She said, 'Is that freakish enough? Is that womanly?'

'It most certainly is,' I said loudly. 'Something else to nibble.'

'No tits and a little cock,' she said, pulling up the knickers. 'The one man I went with said I was a hermaphrodite.'

I reached for her hand, drew her close, and said, 'Did he say that before or after?'

'After. He said he'd never been with a hermaphrodite before.'

'Well now,' I said, 'Does your clitoris ejaculate, and do you have testicles tucked away somewhere? I think not. So you can't be hermaphrodite. Besides, you've got the most feminine bottom I've ever seen. You should've trusted Jetta. She was helping us be women.'

She said, 'I did trust her, and she made me have orgasms all right, and they were women's orgasms, but I didn't feel as if I was a proper woman.'

'Come here, sweet Sid,' I said,, drawing her close. 'You are all six feet of proper woman, and I want you to be an improper woman. So long as you want me, of course. And you haven't seen my tits and bum yet.'

'I don't just want to see them,' she said, 'I want to roll on them, eat them, suck them, delve in them, stick them up me.'

We both began to tremble, aroused to the point of needing instant satisfaction. Taking hands we went into the changing room, thew our clothing and towels on the floor and grabbed each other's garments and tore them off. We lay on the clothing, head to tail, half turned to each other, opened our thighs and thrust our faces between them, bringing our mouths to bear on vulvae and clits, sucking and licking. Within a minute we were gasping, groaning, and suddenly reaching over with our free hands to drag our bottoms towards those busy mouths, striving for the simultaneous orgasms we knew were imminent.

We lay, panting, heads resting on thighs, hands gently stroking bottoms, faces slick with lube and saliva, until she said, 'Well, that's one thing we couldn't do with Jetta.'

'She would strongly approve, though,' I said. 'Women sexing together, as she put it.'

'And now we can do any other kind we choose. That's wonderful. And, your tits and bum are lovely.'

Thus began a forty year affair. There were interludes and we both enjoyed other encounters, usually quite short-lived. Though in my case there was my son Ross, and I could tell you about that, Norma. Before that I'll tell you Sid's favourite sex, which I miss so much.

We got each other thoroughly aroused with kissing, sucking, licking, fingering all over, so that we were eventually leaking liberally from our pussies. Then I lay back, proposed on pillows, with my right leg lying flat on the bed and the left bent at the knee. We gathered our lubricant on our fingers and spread it down my thigh to create a slipway. She lowered her bottom onto that glide-path, her left leg straight out past my right bum-cheek and her right one tucked under my left leg. Sometimes she took that leg on her shoulder. We were now in position for her to slide her bottom up my thigh to bring that impressive chloris into my vulva. There was then a choice of three further moves. We could frot clits, or she could seek my vagina, or she could engage my anus. Large as it was, that rampant little organ could not penetrate far, and working it up my bum was tricky. But if it were in as far as it would go I could clench my bottom, squeezing the chloris, and she would rapturously climax. Achieving her orgasm in my vestibule required some rhythmic pelvic thrusting to generate the necessary caressing. However we did it I almost invariable came, too, being already so excited and thrilled by her ecstatic enjoyment. The feeling of her beautiful bottom traversing my thigh was also delightful, and often she glissaded up and down to give me maximum pleasure.

4

So Flora ended her first account of her liaison with Sidonie, and I, Norma Jane, will pause and collect my wits and words for a second instalment of that time with Flora.