5 Carl and Helen Pt. 02 Beachside Fun

The following week Carl and Helen went to the cinema on their own. Since they were both keen for a bit more front seat fun before going home, Carl found another quiet spot to park on the beach front. When they were well hidden from the road by casuarina and leafy cotton trees, Carl turned off the motor. The light breeze whispering through the canopies became the soundtrack to their love-making. The moonlight was still bright enough to see the ruffled surface of the sea as they snuggled up to each other.

Helen's subtle fragrance alone was enough to stir his need for her. He kissed her gently; then, as he nibbled her neck, she whispered huskily, "God, Carl, you certainly know how make a girl feel wonderful all over. But I want to stop you for a minute."

Something in her voice told him that he'd better listen carefully, so he sat up and looked at her and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"I hope not, but I need to say this. I have great respect for you; I'm really fond of you and we've been having a wonderful time together. But much as I've loved your kisses and touches, I'm not ready to go all the way - or at least, not yet."

Carl took both her hands and, with a reassuring squeeze, promised to respect her wishes.

Helen responded by giving him a long and gentle kiss, whispering in his ear, "Thank you." A moment later, while her lips were still brushing his ear, she unbuttoned his shirt, put her palm against his chest, and rubbed her hand seductively over it in wide sweeps. Their mouths engaged - lightly at first, enjoying the tenderness of each other's lips. Soon the sweet taste of her kiss became irresistible and Carl gradually began to explore her mouth with his tongue, wanting to fill her mouth with it. As she returned his hungry kisses greedily, her tongue twisting around his, he wondered which of her former boyfriends had taught her to kiss so wantonly. His hand inched to her chest, sensing the warmth of her breasts through her blouse and longing to caress them. He brushed the material covering her nipples with the tips of his fingers, sending a sensual shiver down her spine. Carl fully expected that she would push his hand away, but she didn't. Instead, she again brought her mouth to his ear and murmured her approval, whispering, "It's okay for you to touch them."

Carl's love hormones surged as he placed the palm of his hand reverently over her left breast and curled his fingers around its generous fullness. The warm suppleness of it infused his senses with lustful devotion. His blood was hot with sexual longing. He moved his hand across to her right breast and squeezed it tentatively through her top as they kissed. Helen sighed and shuddered again. Both of them were quivering with the potency of their reactions to each other, their lips melting together, and their tongues alternating in each other's mouths in a slippery frenzy.

With his free hand, he unbuttoned her blouse, exposing the lacy tops of her low-cut bra and the exuberant cleavage it supported. After watching her tits jostling under his reverent squeezes, he resumed massaging them through the cups. His fingers feverishly explored the large area of exposed skin on the tops of her breasts which were elevated by her bra. He ran his index finger down into her cleavage and along the inside of the cup's rim, hoping to feel her areola. He may have touched it because Helen emitted a low moan, but Carl was unable to distinguish any difference in the texture of her skin. The nipple tip seemed to have eluded him completely. He'd persevered until he couldn't bear it any longer! He reached behind her back searching for the clasps. He yearned to touch her exposed breasts directly.

The windows of the car were getting a little steamed up and so were they. Carl decided to chance his luck. He pushed the flaps of her blouse to the side, so that her white bra and her cleavage were completely uncovered. She did not resist. Emboldened, he cupped each covered breast in turn, savouring her size and softness. Summoning up his courage, he attempted to reach behind her with his one free hand, to unfasten the clasp on her bra. But he couldn't get the bloody thing to unhook. After several frustratingly unsuccessful attempts, Helen said to leave it done up and just touch them through her bra. So he continued to do that, although all he had managed was to get a finger down into her cleavage. That was very pleasurable of course, but he felt a bit of a dill that his inexperience was showing. Some years later he was told that most other guys simply pull down the front of their girlfriend's bra, stretching the shoulder straps, so that their tits spilled out over the tops of the cups, giving them complete access. "Damn," he thought when he heard this obvious alternative. "I wish I'd known that. Oh well, I'll just have to remember that next time."

Change of Address

A week later, Helen found an ad in the local paper for a large place to rent. It was the caretakers' cottage at a youth holiday camp situated on a large sprawling site. It was just a ten-minute drive from the office. She'd heard that the church organisation which owned it, had been unable to find a married couple to act as caretakers. She knew Gail, like her, was eager to find accommodation closer to their office and their boyfriends' unit. Neither the church nor Gail's mother would have countenanced any kind of cohabitation, not to mention the scandal that two couples "living in sin" would have generated in the local community. At that time, homosexuality and lesbianism were so scandalous that they were mentioned only in hushed tones. So, two young professional women had a good chance of being accepted. The boys would just have to remain in their bachelor pad.

The key to a successful application was to achieve a favourable interview with some of the church elders. After the interview, the panel seemed to think the girls were of good character and, working for the government, were financially capable of affording the modest rent. There were no obligations other than to be a presence on the property to deter possible damage if it was seen to be unoccupied. When the girls announced their idea to move into the caretakers' quarters to Ron and Carl, they both thought it was a brilliant move. They would all be just minutes away from the office and from each other's homes. Perfect.

While the girls were waiting for confirmation of their application, Helen told him about the place she was leaving. Carl had met her three flat mates there. Wanting accommodation closer to her workplace was the key reason for her wanting to shift, but there was also a problem with one of her current flatmates. She was a tall statuesque blonde called Joanna who looked stunning, and, according to Helen, had an insatiable appetite for sex. Carl was eager to hear more. Helen told him her sleep time would regularly be interrupted each time Joanne brought a new guy home to fuck in her bedroom which was right next to Helen's. Apparently, Joanna was very loud when a cock was probing her cunt and a lot of the guys were not quiet either, especially when they shot their load. The situation for most of the girls in the flat came to a head when another of the girls, Sue, came back from work to collect a file she'd been working on at home. As she walked past the open door to Joanna's room, she saw Joanna naked and spreadeagled on her bed with another woman, a brunette, also completely naked, lying between her legs and licking her blonde pussy.

Further details from Sue were whispered to the other female flatmates. While the brunette was licking Joanna's pussy, Joanna was pulling and stretching her own nipples. She must have given them a regular workout because her nipples were particularly long. She was clearly not choosy about which gender she had sex with.

A woman behaving so dissolutely was all new to Carl. Until now, he had only heard rumours of women who were nymphomaniacs or bisexual or lesbians. He found knowing Joanna was such a woman and imagining what her sex life would be like, to be intensely erotic. When one of the prudish girls in the flat heard about the incident, she insisted that Joanna would have to leave. But she didn't just leave the flat; she applied for, and was granted, a transfer to another town. As far as the government was concerned, a scandal was the last thing they wanted. Helen was not happy to see her evicted for having sex, but she would be grateful for being able to get a full night's sleep. After Jessica left, Helen hoped that, if their application for the caretaker's cottage was successful, she'd be able to move into the place with Gail.

For Carl and Helen, their beachside petting sessions became an almost nightly routine. Increasingly, after Gail fell pregnant, the foursome would go out as separate couples. On one such occasion, as Carl drove along the sandy track looking for a suitable spot, they surprised another couple. It was hard to tell exactly what they had been doing, because, as Carl's car rounded a bend, the headlights lit up the front on the other car. Two heads popped up with the girl quickly trying to cover up her chest with some item of clothing. Carl gave a quick toot of the horn and drove past. A few nights later, Helen and Carl would be the ones caught like startled rabbits in the headlights. Once he had found another quiet spot, they snuggled together and kissed again for a long time. That night Helen was the one who opened the front of her blouse and exposed her bra-covered breasts to him. There was just enough light to see that it was another plain white model.

Hoping against hope, Carl attempted to unhook the fastener. This time Helen leaned forward to give him easier access. To his astonishment, he managed to unhook the clasps on his first attempt. Finally, her breasts had been released and were free for him to see and touch unimpeded. Helen left her bra hanging by the straps over her shoulders with the cups draped loosely over her tits. His hands approached them from below, reverently following the contours of her swelling flesh. Again, he was entranced by their beauty. Although Helen's breasts looked bouncy and firm, their yielding tissue felt wonderfully soft. There was just enough pale moonlight to see them dimly. They were teardrop shaped -- slightly concave on top and convex underneath with no sagging at all, even when they were unsupported. In fact, he saw there was no overlap at all where the smooth curve at their base joined her chest. She would have passed the pencil test with ease. He also saw that, free from her bra, they pointed slightly outwards to the sides of her chest.

With his fingers fumbling from his eagerness, Carl carefully explored every delicious part of her exposed left breast. Initially he had again anticipated that, with the pads of his fingers, it would be easy to distinguish between the texture of her areolas and the rest of her breast. He discovered that, when her areolas were in their normal dilated condition, even with the lightest of touches, the uniform smoothness of her skin defied his ability to detect any change in texture. At least, now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim light, he could see that her areolas were the size of the mouth on a tumbler and tinted darker than her pale skin. But he would not know their exact colour until he saw them in better light. As he ran the pad of his index finger over her left areola, its size and texture made his penis leap up as if had been given an electric jolt. Clearly, Helen was also showing signs of arousal because his fingertip was touching her now puckered areola. In that state, its margins were easily distinguishable. At the centre of that corrugated circle, her hardened nipple tip was standing up prominently, like a little pinnacle. When his forefinger ran over it, it felt hard and rubbery. It adhered briefly to the pad of his finger before flicking back into place. As he continued to rub around the tip, he felt her areola begin to contract and crinkle even more emphatically.

Carl bent his head down to enclose the entire pigmented circle within his fully open mouth. That night, her breasts had a faint fragrance of carnations. She normally was very sparing in her use of perfume, so maybe she was using a new brand. While his lips were sealed around her areola, the tip of his tongue traced its margins. It was clearly a strong erogenous zone for her. Her breathing changed markedly and she placed her hand at the back of his head, urging him to suckle her harder by pressing her breast more fully into his mouth. Her fingers were running through his hair as he buried his face into her cushioned flesh. Again, she encouraged him to suck on her harder. That surprised him. He'd thought her nipples would be far too sensitive to apply as much suction as he was now. He drew the entire point of her breast into his mouth nipple tip and areola. When he flicked the nipple tip back and forth rapidly with his pointed tongue, she became a woman possessed, rubbing his head all over her chest. She said later that she had felt a thrill all the way down to her pussy, as if her nipples were connected to it and that she had started throbbing and aching down there so much that she had come.

As they snuggled together while Helen regained her usual poise, Carl thought that sex for the night was over. So, he began to reflect on his first experience with Fiona. That first alcohol-fuelled romp was so hazy that he struggled to remember much at all about her and most of what had happened, or how he felt about it at the time. What he could recall was no more than a vague blur. It was very different with Helen. He concluded that the Porter in Macbeth's castle was right when he declared his views about the effects of alcohol, "it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance." Carl agreed. Although the alcohol had diminished his inhibitions with Fiona, it had also reduced his limited sexual skills to clumsy groping and fogged his recollections of that night. Carl therefore, had resolved to limit his intake in future so that his observations, the sensations and the excitement of their sexual explorations would remain vivid in his memory. Nevertheless, thanks to Fiona and now Helen, Carl was confident that he'd learned enough of the essentials of lovemaking and how women responded to make him a competent lover. But he was about to find out that he still had much to learn.

After Helen had recovered her self-control, she surprised him by initiating more kissing, cuddling and touching. She took his hand and put it back on her uncovered breast. That was the first time that she (or any girl) had made such a move. Carl took her eagerness as a sign that she wanted him to touch her even more. He responded initially by holding her breast, reverently brushing his open palm all over it and savouring its marshmallow softness. His mouth followed his hand, sweeping his lips all over her satin skin, inhaling its delicate sweet scent before bringing his lips to her left nipple. While he sucked, kissed and stroked it all over with his lips and tongue, his hand slid down to her stomach, slipping under the waist band of her stretchy slacks. Helen breathed a murmur of encouragement. When he encountered the elastic top of her knickers, he slid his fingers under that too.

His level of arousal surged at his first touch of her pubic hair - a frieze of frolicsome curls on her plump mound. Just rubbing the pads of his fingers over her anarchic fuzz was enough to make his cock throb and rear up in its already erect state. When he cupped his palm over the perimeter of her pussy, he relished its heat and wetness. Helen moaned lustfully as he unfurled his fingers to seek out her slit. When he made contact with the sodden hair surrounding her entrance, both of their hearts began pounding. Their breathing became more laboured, deep panting intakes of breath. Carl worked his fingers into her slit and felt her inner lips, naked, swollen and as slippery as abalone flesh. They were large enough to protrude well beyond her dilated cleft when she was aroused. With his middle finger he began to massage her inner labia in small circular motions, transferring her wetness onto his fingers.

At this point Helen slipped her slacks and knickers down. She didn't take them off completely because of the possibility of someone else arriving. While Carl eased his forefinger between the folds inside, his middle finger kept searching for her elusive entrance. By then, her pussy was fully dilated and he was sliding his slippery fingers up and down along her wet furrow. Almost by accident, his middle finger slipped inside. He was now in completely new territory. His mind was in a state of erotic delirium, luxuriating in the sensations of having his finger probing, stroking, swirling inside her. He felt transported by the incredible tenderness of her pussy's fleshy interior, the copious flow of viscous fluid emanating from her and lubricating her like an over-abundance of nectar spilling over the petals of a summer flower. He was imagining how incredibly pleasurable it must be for a man to slide his stiff prick into such a perfectly designed receptacle for it.

Curious to discover more, Carl withdrew his finger from its liquid sheath and began to explore other parts of her pussy. He fingered the folds of her inner lips and held them with his finger tips, rubbing, pulling and slowly stretching them. He was amazed by their elasticity. Next, he found the flat surface above her vaginal entrance and followed it up until the pad of his finger touched her clitoral hood. Carl sought the exposed tip of her swollen clit. It had been easy to find with Fiona; not so easy with Helen's. It was well concealed under its loose hood. When he pushed the hood up to expose her magic button, Helen sucked in her breath sharply and asked him to keep touching her there. Her clit was the size of a rice bubble but had a firm rubbery texture.

Whenever he rubbed it, her moans became more and more abandoned. She was clenching her thighs and clamping her cunt onto his finger. Her hips began to move suggestively, thrusting and writhing against his hand and probing fingers. She pressed his fingers down on her clit and used them to masturbate until she was moaning frantically. When her pussy began to spasm, he could feel strong contractions at her entrance exerting their pulsing grip on his middle digit as she throatily gave voice to the power of her climax. It was long and intense. Her mind was in a euphoric trance, her body rigid with ecstasy. Once her climax had peaked, he left his finger inside her vagina. If Carl had heard the joke about Adam and Eve and the last two blessings, he may not have been as surprised as he was by Helen's ability to have successive orgasms.

Slowly her sensual high began to subside and her muscles gradually relaxed. Carl gently moved his finger inside her after she had come down from her orgasm and kept it there while he kissed her again - lightly this time. The tide of passion, which had possessed her so completely, began to wane. When she was thoroughly relaxed, he slowly eased his finger out of its slippery enclosure. Helen found the tissue box and wiped her juices from his fingers and dabbed her pussy before folding a clean tissue and covering it. She then pulled her knickers back up, snuggled into him and said, "We've got to go to work tomorrow. I think you'd better take me home."