â\”Love dwells not ¦ Part 4 of 4

Read part 1, part 2 and part 3 of this story.

I adjusted the vibrator’s settings, made sure the anal probe was still in place, and tentatively slid the “bulb end of the toy up and down Helen’s slit. When her lower lips parted, releasing her natural “lube, I applied the toy more firmly. She writhed a little and pulled back her knees, which I took for an invitation. I slipped the toy inside her, and inserted it just far enough to allow the little vibrating tongue to dance over her clit.

Helen was thrilled. “Wow! I’ve got to get one of these.

I rotated the toy left and right, letting the vibrator and tongue work their magic inside and out. Unlike me, Helen didn’t like deep vaginal penetration “ I put only the first couple of inches inside her. I played with the toy’s settings, going from light vibration to deep pulse, and back.

Helen was quiet after her comment, with the exception of gasps and moans. There seemed to be a direct connection between my ears and my vagina “ every time Helen made a sound of pleasure, my internal muscles throbbed. I thought I might come just from pleasuring her.

Finally, Helen’s back arched a bit and she let out a soft cry. I didn’t realize she’d had an orgasm until she pushed the vibrator away. I turned it off and then gently removed the anal probe. I wrapped the toys in a towel and put them aside. I lay beside Helen, my hand on her arm, and wondered what she would say when she came back to herself.

Helen took a deep breath. “I want to do you.

“What? I had not expected to hear that.

She sat up, and leaned back against the headboard. “I want to do you “ it’s only fair. Besides, this is my one chance to have sex with a woman ¦ I want to take it.

I very much wanted to have Helen “do me “ I was so hot that I was ready to masturbate right then. Her “one chance remark barely registered

I stretched across the bed to rummage in the bottom drawer of my nightstand. Finding my purple dildo-style vibrator “ also with a clit stimulator on top “ I handed it to Helen. “This one is my favorite.

She laughed as she took it. “You like them this big? I’m glad you didn’t use this on me! She played with the buttons until she figured out what was what. “Okay, where’s that bottle of oil?

It was my turn to laugh. “Are you kidding? I don’t need any.

I swiveled around so that my head was at the foot of the bed, and lay back with my legs spread. Helen leaned forward, turned on the vibrator, and pushed it inside me.

I thought I would be finished soon after we started, but I had underestimated Helen’s skill. My husband is very good with sex toys, but it takes a woman who has used them on herself to really know how to utilize one to its fullest potential. Helen slowly and expertly fucked me with my toy. She twisted and turned it, sped up and slowed down the vibration “ as well as the penetration “ and allowed me little pleasures that slowly led up to a body-wracking orgasm that I felt from my head to my toenails.

When I had quit shuddering, Helen removed the vibrator and turned it off. “You come the way my husband does “ your whole body shakes. I’m surprised it doesn’t kill you both.

I struggled to lift my head. “You mean I’m still alive?

We shoved the toys to the floor, shut off the TV, crawled under the covers and slept. During the night, I half-woke to find Helen’s leg thrown across my hips. Sleepily, I stroked her thigh. I wanted to touch her, to slip my fingers between her lips to explore and please her, but I wouldn’t dare without her consent.

Helen woke and began to touch me. Without a word, we shifted around so we could reach between each other legs. That play was a sweet exploration of velvety, wet flesh “ one I had only experienced by my own hand. Taking our time, we gave each other deep, but somehow gentle, orgasms and fell back asleep.

We rose late, showered and made coffee, bagels and mimosas. We didn’t talk much “ just breakfasted on the deck in companionable silence. Afterwards, Helen thanked me for a great evening and left.

Helen and I have never spoken of our night together. I never told my husband about it; I’m not sure why. He has known for a long time that I desired Helen; he would have been pleased for my sake that I had been with her. And he is kind; he would have consoled me when I finally realized that my one night with Helen was just that “ one night.

Lord Byron wrote, of his unrequited passion,

“¦“ and yet thou lov’st me not,
And never wilt “ Love dwells not in our will “
Nor can I blame thee “ though it be my lot
To strongly “ wrongly “ vainly “ love thee still. “ 

Byron held no blame in his heart for his beloved, he who did not love him in return, as I hold no blame in mine.

The memory of that night is bitter-sweet. Helen and I still spend a lot of time together. I like to think that the hugs and kisses she offers me are more meaningful than those she offers her other friends, but perhaps I fool myself. I cannot help it ¦ I love her still.

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