Belle’s Story

(This chapter is long and detailed in order to set the scene and introduce characters and their background. The story is about lesbian love and although there are steamy passages, there is more to the story than just wall-to-wall lesbian sex. I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I did in conceiving it.)

As an army brat I’ve been at a boarding school for girls since I was 4 years old, only seeing my parents for the summer holidays. My parents were killed two years ago when the chinook helicopter flying them to Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan, was destroyed by a surface-to-air missile. Although I didn’t know my parents very well, I was devastated to lose them, especially under such terrible circumstances. At least I didn’t have to ‘come out’ to my parents that I’m a lesbian, but that reflection doesn’t relieve my grief in the slightest.

I remained at boarding school until completing my ‘A’ levels, when as my parents’ sole beneficiary and having just had my 18th birthday, I left boarding school for the last time and moved into what has become my house in London’s Chelsea. I’m keeping myself occupied by preparing to take up the unconditional offer that I received from London University to read Social History.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, my name is Isabelle Jane Keeler, everyone calls me Belle. I’m a 5′ 7″ brunette and a UK size 10, slender but with nice curves in the right places. I was prone to shyness but boarding school cured that! I’ve had little contact with men, apart from during the hols, but it’s been enough for me to know that I am not attracted to them in the least. However, I am attracted to women and have to be careful not to offend by my admiration.

Having shared the showers so often at school, I plan to emulate the girls that I found particularly attractive, i.e. those with zero hair ‘down there’. I’ve done some research on the internet and have an appointment booked to help me decide the best way to deal with the problem, i.e. shaving, waxing or laser treatments. Oh my, it’s almost time to go. Wearing a pretty floral summer dress, I put on my heels, check my makeup in the mirror (yes, I’m girlie), grab my bag and brolly and make my way along the river to Battersea Bridge and then to the beauty salon on the King’s Road.

In the Beautician’s, I meet Samantha, an attractive woman in her late twenties. She welcomes me and leads me into a private room where we sit to discuss the options. She tells me that the classic, manual ways to remove pubic hair, such as shaving, waxing and hair removal cream are favourites. The advantages being convenience, low cost, suitability for most skin types and instant results. However, the disadvantages are that thicker regrowth of hair is inevitable, because the hair follicles remain unchanged. I thank her for her clear explanation and ask about a permanent solution.

Sam tells me that Laser treatment permanently removes pubic hair by using heat energy to damage the hair follicle and discourage further growth. The hand-held device emits a concentrated light beam to the required area targeting the pigment, it is perfect for the dark, coarse hair often found on the pubic area. Another Laser method is Intense Pulsed Light (IPL) which works in a similar way. Using heat energy, it uses pulses of intense light to target the hair follicles. She adds that IPL can produce heat if overused, so it is generally applied over 6 to 8 appointments but is therefore more expensive.

I ask the cost of a full course of IPL and she says that each appointment costs £200 but a full course is on special offer at £800, i.e. up to 8 appointments if required for the price of 4. I decide that only the best will do and opt for the special offer asking if the first session can be done now. She smiles sweetly and says that it can. She fills out a form which confirms the special offer and I make the payment using my debit card.

After the formalities are completed she asks me to remove any clothes that might get in the way, which I do. She helps me to lie back on the couch covered with a plastic sheet under my hips and with my legs open, as if I was unable to do it myself. However, as she does it so gently, even sensuously, I can feel her touch in my clitoris and realise that I’m becoming aroused and try to concentrate on something, anything to distract my attention from her gaze on my naked sex.

She tells me that usually ladies are asked to shave the area 2-3 days before the appointment so that they aren’t completely smooth. In my case she will use a hairdressing trimmer which will leave a suitable stubble. I hope that I am reasonably dry. In no time at all she deftly deploys the buzzing trimmer, which feels rather nice against my naked vulva. All done, she brushes the debris from my ‘haircut’ onto the plastic sheet under me.

She cleans my stubble thoroughly with wet wipes, then applies a cooling gel straight out of the fridge to reduce the skin heating of the IPL and the possibility of damage. She gives me some protective glasses, a bit like 3D glasses, and I put them on. She aims the IPL scanner to a small section of stubbly skin and presses the button to activate the light. Each time she presses the button, I feel as if ants are biting me in that section. The low grade pain, thanks to the gel is transient only lasting a few seconds.

She moves my labia as necessary and covers the sensitive parts as she works around them. The whole IPL procedure is completed in about 10 minutes. She uses a wipe to remove the cooling gel and then a wet towel to clean the area. Finally she gives me some cotton wipes to clean myself particularly in the most sensitive areas.

Sam says that sunburn-like sensations can be expected for about 2-3 hours after the treatment. If it is uncomfortable apply cold compresses or ice to the area. Try not to pick blisters or skin crusting to avoid scarring. I really don’t want an ugly cunt! Wash the area only in tepid or warm water. Finally, while the pores are open, they are vulnerable to irritation, so try to avoid swimming or sexual activity for a week after the treatment.

On getting dressed again, I tell her that I don’t usually flash for strangers. She laughs and tells me that when the treatments are all completed that ‘close up’ I’ll be more beautiful than most and winks. I wonder if that was a subtle pass, but having no lesbian experience, I decide to say nothing and watch for signs next time.

She tells me that I should notice a thinning of hair in about a fortnight, so recommends the next appointment in 3-4 weeks time and gives me a copy of the order where she has circled the phone number for my reference. In handing me the paper, our personal spaces overlap and seeing her smile, I smile in return, I feel myself drawn towards her as if toward a black hole. Our lips touch and holding my face in her hands she gently sucks on my top lip. I can’t believe my luck and take her bottom lip between my lips for the softest and most sensual kiss imaginable.

We melt together for a full minute before she breaks the kiss. She asks me if I’d like to go to a lesbian club with her and without hesitation I say that I would like that very much. We exchange mobiles and enter our names and numbers for each other then pass the mobiles back with a smile. We agree to meet in a fortnight’s time at the junction of Battersea Bridge and Cheyne Walk at 7:30 p.m. She opens the door for me and she gently pats my bottom as i leave. My button tingles and my spirits soar.

Back at home I go online to find out as much as I can about lesbianism and to my surprise, discover that there is a module in my course with options that I hadn’t fully taken in. It is titled ‘Human Rights’ and the 2 options are: 1. Human Rights. 2. Women’s Rights.

I call London University on my mobile and ask about exercising an option for the Social History course I’ll be starting in a few weeks time. I’m put through to the right person who tells me that as a female, I have automatically been registered for the Women’s Rights option and I’m asked if I wish to change my option. Delighted I say that I called to see if I can be included in the Women’s Rights option, so am happy. She thanks me for my interest which she has noted in my record for me and the call ends.

The next day I meet with the bank manager and after proving my identity and showing him my parents’ wills, He helps me to open the necessary new accounts and transfer both the considerable amounts and the current direct debits to the new accounts. There seems to be enough money to allow me to live a life of luxury and excess and still not run out of money. He has a special new debit card arranged for me which he says is available only to owners of accounts that maintain a very large balance, which mine do. An assistant brings in my new special debit card and ask if that completes all transfers to me. He confirms that it does and he kindly escorts me out of the bank.

During the 13 days before Sam takes me to a lesbian club, I alternate between hours of lesbian research online, shopping for clothes and arranging interviews for a live-in cleaner/housekeeper and a live-in cook/personal maid from a domestic staffs agency. The only ‘must haves’ I stipulate, apart from being able to do the job, are that interviewees must be female, speak fluent english, have references from a previous employer and can show proof of their status as legal UK residents.

The proximity of the King’s Road allows me to visit all the clothing shops and boutiques during my fortnight. I feel such a freedom being able to buy, for the first time, exactly what I like and not to worry about the cost. I might walk on the outward journey, but with all the clothes I buy there’s no way that I could carry them home and need to use a black cab each time.

I have inhabited my parents’ room, which is the master bedroom suite. It and the lounge are the largest rooms in the house. It has an en-suite bathroom with large spa-bath, walk-in shower, twin hand wash basins and curiously twin toilets, both with japanese style bidet seats that can wash and blow-dry the user! It also has a huge changing room with fitted oak wardrobes and a multitude of drawers. I don’t know why, perhaps in the hope that I will meet the lady of my life, but I unpack my purchases, hang up my new dresses and put the remainder in drawers using only one side of the room.

The end wall is an illuminated shoe rack and my few pairs look quite forlorn all on their own on the expansive rack. Among the light switches just inside the bedroom door, there is a switch that doesn’t seem to do anything and I inadvertently leave it switched on. Later, while checking out my dressing table in the bedroom, I find a switch hidden on the underneath of the top surface and therefore out of sight even when the top drawer is opened. I press it once and look around to see if anything has changed.

In the dressing room I notice that part of the floor, under my dresses, has moved sideways to reveal a large safe hidden under the floor. When I try the key that fits nothing else, I am able to open it and am staggered to find that it is full of cash, expensive looking jewellery and there is a key to a security box.

Returning to the paperwork given to me by my parents’ solicitor, now my solicitor, I find that the key is for a security box in the vault of The Pure Bullion Company near the Bank of England and a card that acts as ID bearing the contact details of the Comptroller.

I call the Pure Bullion Company and ask to be put through to the Comptroller. I explain who I am and who my late parents were. He asks if I can visit him bringing the cash with me. I express my concern regarding carrying so much money and he tells me that he can send an unmarked security van to bring me to his premises, the driver will show me the exact same ID card that I possess to verify his identity. I thank him and while waiting for the van to arrive, I remove all of the cash from the safe and pack it into a suitcase.

In the office of the Comptroller, I am welcomed and sit down to take tea with him as my identity is verified, i.e. my key fits the security box owned by my parents. In the meantime, assistants examine and count the cash from the safe. He tells me that it contains £4 million exactly. I’m again staggered but even more so when the Comptroller tells me that the security box, now mine, contains gold ingots that today he would pay me £749,958,768.57 precisely to buy back from me. I feel faint and am quickly given a glass of water which revives me.

The Comptroller tells me that I am a very wealthy and very fortunate lady and asks if I wish to use the cash in order to buy gold ingots to add to my security box. There’s no way I want that amount of money at home and agree to purchase further gold ingots with the cash. He does some calculations and tells me that he can sell me 95 ingots of 1 kilogram from £3,988,100 + £100 for storage and insurance, making a total of £3,988,200 leaving me with £11,800 in cash. I am vastly relieved and agree to make the sale.

He completes a document which is jointly a record of the transaction, certifying the purchase of 95 x 1 kg ingots and a certificate of insurance for 12 months. I ask what happens after the 12 months and he tells me that it will be added to the direct debit from my bank account. I’m happy to know I don’t have to worry about renewing the insurance. Now, he says with a big smile, is the best part!

We get up and he takes me, via the reception desk, down to the vault. The outer door is opened automatically for us and I get my first sight of countless stacks of gleaming gold ingots. They are so heavy that the pallets are made of thick stainless steel rather than wood. He unlocks the steel barred door that swings open slowly on its solid hinges by just a touch of his finger.

A man follows us into the security box vault pushing a trolley with my 95 ingots on it. I still can’t believe my wealth but when the Comptroller and I both use our keys to open my ‘box’, it opens to reveal a long room crammed with 200 times the ingots I have just purchased. Almost in a daze, I watch the man add my paltry 95 ingots to my collection and realising my jaw has dropped, leaving me open mouthed, I quickly close it and hope it wasn’t noticed. All is secured and with one last look over my shoulder, we leave the vault.

In reception the Comptroller gives me a new ID card and my transaction record, suitably embrossed with the company logo while his assistant brings my suitcase containing the remaining £11,800 in cash. He thanks me for my visit and sees me into a company car to be driven home. I thank him for his courteous assistance and after shaking hands, I get into the rear seat with my case on the front passenger seat and we pull away.

Back at home, the £11,800 in cash is immediately put into the safe and both switches turned off. Happy that there’s no sign of anything other than fitted wardrobes. I go downstairs to make a drink before the first candidates arrive for interview. The interviews take up the rest of the day and much of the next day. After sleeping on it, I decide to offer the positions to a lesbian couple. They are twin sisters, Lali and Piti born in England of immigrant parents that migrated here from Kolkata in India. Their birth certificates prove that they are both British citizens and twins but they have no references because they have never worked.

When they ‘came out’ to their parents, they were literally ‘thrown out’ of the family. Not even distant relatives would take them in, but fortunately a friend was able to give them shelter but they will have to leave by the end of the week. The key appeal of these lovely young ladies is their happy dispositions and suggestion that they share the jobs and they both function as cook/bearer so that when one isn’t busy she can help the other and vice versa.

I ring the agency to offer jobs to both Lali and Piti on the national minimum wage but with full board and lodging included. The probation period will be 3 months and then their pay will be reviewed. The consultant asks when the ladies are required and, knowing their circumstances, I say that they can start as soon as they like but by the end of the week at the latest. The consultant thanks me and says that she will be in touch a.s.a.p. to confirm. I thank her and the call ends.

The fortnight since my first IPL treatment has passed and I wonder what dress to wear. I’ve no idea how Sam dresses because she was wearing a work tunic, but I do know that I always prefer a dress or skirt and top with heels, I know I’m ‘girlie’ and everything I’ve seen online suggests I’m a femme lesbian. Well, tonight might confirm what I am and that thought makes me smile. I call Sam at the salon and we confirm our meeting for 7:30 this evening.

When I give myself a careful wash down, I’m delighted to notice that my pubic hair has thinned more than expected and after combing out my long brunette hair, I put on makeup which I think might be suitable for clubbing. I put on a new white semi-sheer bra and skimpy thong set. Now for my new white midaxi tea dress from Nobody’s Child that I bought at Per Una in Marks & Sparks. It is made from a light cotton blend with a look perfect for eating strawberries & cream at Wimbledon. It has a full lining, flattering v-neck and pretty, layered frills at the chest, shoulders, and bottom hem. The cutaway back will help keep me cool. I model it in front of the long mirror and am delighted with my choice.

A pair of white slingback 4 inch heels, a white clutch bag and a white lace shawl complete my first attempt at a femme lesbian outfit. My mobile rings and I answer it seeing that it is the agency. The consultant tells me that Lali and Piti are delighted to be offered the jobs with board & lodging included. They asked her to accept my very kind offer and ask if they may arrive the following evening with a view to starting work the next morning. I ask if they need help to travel and she assures her that the friend that they have been staying with will bring them in her taxi. I thank her and the call ends.

At 7:30 it’s still light as I approach our meeting point and see Sam on the corner wearing a lovely little black dress. As we see each other we smile and kiss each other on the cheek. Sam says the club is only a short walk and since there’s still plenty of daylight we decide to walk. She leads me up the path of a large house and says that we have arrived. She adds that the house is owned by Alisa, who runs the agency… erm… club. I look at her and she confesses that Chelsea Exclusives is actually an escort agency providing companions for ladies, it is owned by Alisa, our party hostess. I ask if she works for the agency and she says that she started recently. I tell her that I do not have a problem and if she wishes to improve her income that way, it is entirely her affair. She thanks me and asks me not to say anything. I agree.

Sam introduces me simply as Belle. I seem to be getting hugged by everyone. I’m not surprised that Sam is kissed on the lips but a total surprise and joy when I am too. The total openness and fondness of their greeting is such a refreshing revelation and is another confirmation for me that I am a lesbian. When I’m introduced to Alisa, I’m stunned by her beauty and snuggle into her lovely long welcoming hug and delicious kiss. I find myself drawn to her as never before but, I remind myself that she is the hostess and a madame and I’m a newcomer, a teenager too!

Alisa takes my hand and tells me that there are about 20 ladies present, as we meander through the rooms, I am struck at the variety of ages and styles. She asks if I find women in their 40s and 50s attractive and I confirm that I do, some particularly so, she and those within hearing range smile their approval. Alisa is probably in her late twenties and asks me where I met Sam. Suddenly I realise that she is no longer with me. I giggle and tell her that she gave me my first IPL treatment a fortnight ago.

Alisa asks if any of the interaction was arousing for me and I confess that it was in a couple of moments but the rest of the process wasn’t at all arousing. However, I kept my mind on the ultimate goal. She whispers: “Good girl, there’s nothing I like more than a lady that takes care of all her body”. She then kisses me softly on the lips. She is absolutely adorable and I expect that someone as lovely as she is must already be taken, but with an arm around my waist she kisses me again to the accompaniment of several ‘ooo’ and ‘ahh’ sounds.

Alisa tells me that all the lovely ladies present work for her escort agency catering only for female clients. It is called Chelsea Exclusives, but all her ladies are also friends and the agency name is also used for their little lesbian club. I am delighted that she has been honest with me and feel an even stronger attraction to her. She asks if I would like to join her little lesbian club adding that there will be no pressure to work as an escort. I say that I am more than delighted to be asked and we exchange mobiles, enter our details, and pass the mobiles back to each other. Alisa tells me that I am now officially a member of Chelsea Exclusives, a lesbian club with an exclusive membership of nice women. I think that maybe I’m also a step away from becoming an escort.

I thank her for including me, it means such a lot, particularly since I’m so drawn to her. She kisses me again on the lips and I can’t stop myself from melting into her kiss and into her lovely body. I couldn’t be happier. Alisa takes me to the drinks table and I choose a tomato juice because I want to remember everything, Alisa surprisingly does the same and for the same reason.

Alisa stays with me, holding my hand or cuddling me, all the time, even when I need to pee. It ought to feel odd as no one has ever watched me use the toilet before, but I’m happy that it doesn’t. When she sits on the edge of the bath to get the best possible view of me peeing, it pleases me so I open my legs further and hold my dress up high, giving her my best view and longest performance as I slowly empty my bladder. As I reach for the toilet tissue, she beats me to it and reaching between my legs very gently dabs me dry, goodness… how wonderful!

When I get up, adjust my dress and wash my hands, Alisa takes my place on ‘the throne’. I automatically sit on the edge of the bath and she opens her legs wider to give me the best view, but unable to prevent myself, I kneel between her legs for a really close view, she asks if I’m ready and I whisper that I am. Holding her dress up with one hand she spreads her lips with the other, being careful not to obscure my view. She pees a steady stream for what seems a long time and inexplicably, I’m enthralled.

After our mutual performance, Alisa takes my hand and leads me to the music. It is in a large room where a number of couples are dancing close together, possibly explaining the slow playlist chosen. She takes me in her arms, holding me to her and asks if I’m enjoying myself. I tell her honestly that I’ve never enjoyed myself more and am loving her company. She says: “It’s funny that you say that, I was just thinking the same thing”.

During a break, Alisa uses her mobile then suddenly mobiles are going off everywhere. I can’t resist and read the text to find that my name is on the list together with my mobile number. I put it back in my bag and embrace Alisa lovingly, I’m in my absolute heaven. As we dance Alisa asks if my treasure is sensitive after the IPL treatment and I tell her that with all that is happening, I hadn’t even thought about it. She says that she is glad as she couldn’t bear it if I was in pain, but to be absolutely honest, she wonders if I would like to enjoy a little intimacy together.

I’m speechless for a moment and she asks if something is wrong. I confess that I had assumed that someone so beautiful, inside and out, must have a partner. She smiles and confesses that until meeting me, she hadn’t met anyone that even came close to being a possible exclusive life partner. I’m struck speechless again and manage to burble: “Me?” She apologises for surprising me with such an important matter, but that my interest in whether she has a partner made her want to state her interest.

Alisa takes my hand and leads me to her bedroom. She locks the door and we sit together on the couch: “I’m so sorry for surprising you like that when others were nearby. Here at least we can talk privately”. I thank her for her consideration and confess that I’m very attracted to her but have only recently had my 18th birthday and am totally inexperienced in matters of the heart. But, I tell her that I too desire an exclusive life partner.

She wraps her arms around me lovingly and says: “I am 28 years old but think that age is just a number, for instance, judging by the confident way you presented & conducted yourself I thought you might be older than your youthful beauty might suggest. Would you be interested in becoming my exclusive girlfriend while we embark on a voyage of mutual discovery together?”

I snuggle closer and say: “There is nothing that I would like more than to be your exclusive girlfriend and fortunately I live just a short walk the other side of Battersea Bridge. I should add that in the autumn I will be starting my Social History course with Women’s Rights module at London University but will continue to live in my house. On becoming an adult recently, I inherited all my parents’ assets. They died 2 years ago when their chinook helicopter was hit by a surface-to-air missile. “Naturally I grieved but having being at boarding schools since the age of 4, apart from the summer hols, I hardly knew them”.

It is Alisa’s turn to be delighted, to commiserate with my loss and to congratulate me on the way I’m handling ‘everything’. She asks if I would like to stay the night with her and I respond that I’d love to, particularly if she’d stay with me on the following night. She kisses me and tells me that she wants to be with me always and I happily reciprocate.

It isn’t long before Alisa’s hand finds its way up my dress and rests gently on my inner thigh, just touching the flimsy triangle of my thong. I can feel every movement of her fingers. I say: “It’s the first time I’ve ever been intimate with anyone and I adore it and her”. She asks softly if she may kiss my treasure and I whisper that there’s nothing I would like more.

She slips to her knees between my legs and reaches to remove my thong, I lift my bottom and she sensuously pulls it all the way off my legs then lifts my dress to adore my treasure. She is very gentle with me and her tongue is nice and soft, my button starts to tingle and I can feel a wetness between my legs. Alisa seems to know it is there and scoops it up with her tongue. The feeling is divine and I feel my tingling button getting warmer and the warmth spreading deep inside me. She rises to give me a french kiss and let me taste myself from her tongue. She passes a finger between my lips and lifts it for me to inhale my sweet musky fragrance.

The warmth has suffused throughout my body and in my innocence, I wonder if I am experiencing my first orgasm. Alisa asks if she may take my maidenhood and holding her face to my treasure, I ask her to make me a woman. She curls two fingers into me, causing a pain that passes quickly and I ask quietly if that was what all the fuss was about. Suddenly & involuntarily, I emit a long sigh of pleasure as her fingers find my special spot and gently massage it, it is the very best of feelings.

Alisa knows from the texture of my spot, that I am ready for more. Her lips close around my tingling button and I gasp for breath. The sublime conjunction of pleasure from both places is magical in the extreme and I realise that the pleasures that went before were just a prelude to what is to come, literally!

I am very wet, very warm and very aroused. Alisa starts flicking the tip of my button with her tongue, the sensations are mind blowing, but as her fingers continue massaging my spot I can feel my heat rising further, like a pressure cooker ready to blow. My audible responses are garbled rubbish and yet they tell the same tale experienced by billions of women throughout time.

When there is sufficient pressure, the weight on the pressure valve is forced to rise, opening the valve with a sudden gush of steam. So it is with my body, in a moment I feel as if there is an explosion of pleasure deep inside me and millions upon millions of tingles spread through me like a wave crashing onto a sandy beach into minute bubbles. The feeling is inexplicably wonderful and is sustained for a while before it subsides into such a delicious feeling of fulfilment and well-being.

Alisa busily collects my love juices with her tongue and then shares them with me via a deliciously long french kiss. I tell her that sex education classes at boarding school bore no resemblance to our lovemaking, and reflect that might have been dangerous for cloistered girls to learn about. We laugh at the image of a dorm orgy and enjoy a long post-coital embrace with lots of kisses.

I kiss her neck drawing a purr of pleasure from her and am reassured that it’s something she likes, I kiss up her neck to her earlobes, to her eyebrow and eyelid and repeat the kisses down the other side. In the meantime, Alisa’s nipples have engorged, hardened and attracted my attention. When I kiss down and suck one nipple while teasing the other, she purrs a little louder. Pleased to have found more ways to give her pleasure I treat myself to an extended suckling on her lovely tit. Her heavenly fragrance intoxicates me.

Still suckling, my hand meanders ever more southward. On reaching her treasure, Alisa emits a happy “ahh” as I trail a finger between her lips. Sadly my finger only has the sense of touch so reluctantly I leave her nipple and revisit the heaven that I first glimpsed in the bathroom. Her hairless beauty is breathtaking and I cannot resist licking up between her lips while inhaling her intoxicating fragrance and tasting her sweet musky essence. I whisper that she is a classic beauty in every way and lick her button as if in confirmation. Her pleasure is audible and very pleasing.

I’m delighted to see Alisa’s button peeping out from under its hood as if to welcome me, the greeting isn’t ignored and delighted to find a new point on which to suckle, I gently close my lips around it and softly flick it with my tongue. My reward is her sounds of pleasure, I feel right at home just pleasing her. It isn’t long before I feel the need to give her even greater pleasure and insert two curled fingers, as she had done to me. With my fingers feeling their way, like a blind person with a white stick, eventually I find a different texture and Alisa reacts in confirmation that I have found her special spot.

My button is tingling like mad and begging for attention, but will have to wait, the pleasure I feel at giving Alisa pleasure is my highest priority. I pulse-suck her button while massaging her spot and her sounds of pleasure increase in volume. I couldn’t be happier and intensify my ministrations to the music of her vocal crescendo. I feel her body shudder and know she is close and long for her to shower me with her essence. In the meantime I just love her to bits with my mouth and fingers and she cries out: “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I couldn’t be happier to feel her ecstasy… and her essence!

Alisa helps me up in the bed and our mouths engage as if they were sexual organs, which considering the divine essence my mouth brings and the way our mouths give each other pleasure, maybe they are. Our tongues whirl in sequence as if they were blades of a blending machine, serving up a divine cocktail for us both to enjoy. She asks me where I learned to please so exquisitely, my answer is brief, true and equally exquisite: “From You!”

We snuggle together and I fall asleep in her arms. As the new day dawns the partygoers take their leave and I stay behind with the first girlfriend of my life. We take a lovely long and rather intimate shower together. I tell Alisa that I think, in the hours since we met, I have experienced more wonderful sensations than in my entire life. She says nothing for a few moments, clearly thinking, and then she says that although she has made love before, the same goes for her too because she is certain that mutual love was involved. We hug and kiss as the shower spray rains down on us.

We sit together dressed only in a light dressing gown each, but just being close to each other maintains the lovely glow we both feel. She asks if I’ve heard from Sam and I tell her that I haven’t. She nods and says that she is pleased just in case she had any plans for me at the party. I say that I knew of none, only that she was kind enough to bring me to the party.

Alisa says that last night we became exclusive girlfriends and lovers. I agree totally and tell her that I think I’m falling in love with her already, but could it be my inexperience showing through? She laughs and says that she is guilty of the same inexperience because she is falling in love with me too.

Alisa says: “I want us to be true equals in our relationship, i.e. we discuss everything that matters and then work together to agree what is to be done”. I just ask that she takes the lead on social occasions. Her lips softly touch mine, it feels so good, her tongue touches my lips as if asking for admittance and they open on recognising her sweet fragrance. We seem to melt together as if we were always meant to be a couple. I feel something very special with her, safe and secure in her love.

Surfacing after a breathtaking kiss, she asks me for our first date and following the party at her house, I suggest we go somewhere nice for brunch to celebrate our new relationship. Alisa suggests we go shopping after brunch and buy each other a celebratory outfit, I’m completely on board with the idea but warn her I love pretty things and suspect I might be either a lipstick lesbian or a femme lesbian. Alisa snorts: “No shit!” and we howl with laughter.

We decide on My Old Dutch on the King’s Road and having booked a table, we set off by foot. For reference I tell Alisa that it is within easy walking distance of my house. They specialise in savoury pancakes and we decide to share an Old Dutch and a Florentine with bacon but we can’t finish them because we need room for the Profiterole we ordered to share for dessert and a Skinny Decaff Latte each. We take our time and enjoy the meal and the special occasion very much.

We decide to shop in Selfridges on Oxford Street so we hail a black cab. On arrival, the door is opened for us by a commissionaire. A quick look at the store layout reveals that the second and third floors cater for women’s clothing needs. Preferring to avoid crowded lifts we use the elevators and take our time exploring to find anything that might appeal to us both.

We’ve plenty of time and in the classics section find just the dresses we love. Basically the display is a silk pencil dress with sleeves to just below the elbow, a nice waist, with a knee length hem. There are no frills or flounce. It looks perfect for a little black dress or for a date night. There is also a cerise with black repeating pattern option and style options of a plunging neckline or a turtleneck. We just love the dress and both of us choose to buy the black with plunging neckline and the cerise with turtleneck. Fortunately they have the dresses in our sizes and when we try them on we are delighted.

We also want some pretty underwear so the kind assistant offers to accompany us so we can make one payment for all our purchases. We decide black is our colour for both dresses and choose 3 matching bra and skimpy thong sets each in a semi-sheer black fabric, 2 black half length slips and 12 pairs of black hold-ups each as neither of us can bear wearing tights. Our helpful assistant lays out a dress and a slip to ensure the slip is an appropriate length.

It’s shoes-time next and Selfridges has an extensive range. I am immediately attracted to some classic black stilettos with a 3 to 4 inch heel and so is my Alisa. We are measured and find we take the same size, so we decide to choose a range of sling backs, T-straps and some multi-straps too!

Finally, it’s time for a black patent leather clutch bag but because we both like the same one, to avoid confusion we have a gold A attached for Alisa’s and a gold B for mine. Our kind assistant does the honours and because we’ve bought pretty much the same, we simply pay half the bill each. She even carries our bags to the entrance and arranges for a black cab to take us to my house.

On arrival I make straight for the kitchen and put the kettle on. Alisa asks if I have heard of red bush tea and I’m able to ask smugly if she takes milk with it. She grins and says that she does and, admittedly using tea bags, I serve two cups of red bush tea with milk. After we’ve been refreshed with tea she asks if she may see more of my lovely house and of course I’m happy to do the honours, in spite of only recently inheriting it.

She’s already seen the hall and the kitchen, so I show her the large lounge of which a whole side is taken up with bi-fold doors leading out to the garden. She says she adores what she has seen, the space, the furnishings and the decor, but I cannot claim, or try to, any responsibility for it. I take her upstairs and show her the 4 bedrooms, all with en-suite and large walk-in wardrobe cum changing room.

I tell Alisa there is a fifth bedroom, the master, with views of the river from the Albert Bridge to Battersea Bridge. Looking out through the closed net curtains, she can see the room is not overlooked and comments that the views are wonderful and must be more so after the sun has set. I simply tell her that I love it and would love it ten times more if she were living with me and sharing it.

I take her up another flight of stairs and show her the 10 smaller bedrooms of the second floor, probably intended for staff and remark that her house might have a similar design being so close and similar externally. She says it might be, but location is everything and tells me that apart from visiting stately homes, she has never seen anything better. I am delighted and ask if she will consider moving in with me. She says that she won’t consider it and pauses… adding after a break, that she’s already decided, if I will have her. Our embrace encompasses our joyous 24 hours.

After ordering a chinese banquet to be delivered, we,unpack our shopping in the walk-in wardrobe of the master bedroom. It is such a meaningful event for us both. As we wait, Alisa tells me that a number of members of Chelsea Exclusives have asked her to consider renting her house so it becomes a kind of sorority house and man-free zone. They even have decided on who will legally be the renter and responsible for collecting the correct rent from each tenant and paying the agreed amount to her.

I ask her how she feels about the offer now that they have become a couple and live together here. She says that the income would of course be shared between them but she is hesitant to leave completely. I suggest not letting her own room and keeping it secured for herself and also remind her that she is only renting the property out, not selling it. She says that I’m right and wants to sleep on it. I tell her that’s a shame, because I hoped she would be sleeping on me tonight. We laugh and the doorbell rings.

It is Lali and Piti with their friend Sooni. I invite them all in and introduce them to Alisa who I introduce as my girlfriend. Alisa smiles and so do Lali, Piti and Sooni. I invite them to sit with us and it turns out that Sooni works as a taxi driver and although the money is good, she is always fearful that she will be attacked by a white supremacist. I ask to be excused for a moment and taking my keys go outside and open the double garage to find two bright shiny cars inside. Going back into the lounge I ask Sooni, and everyone interested to join me outside.