Leisure Centre

By Nancy Parkin

Published on May 13, 2001

Lesbian

I don't know how I came to write this. Maybe I was looking for the ultimate. Anyway they tell me it just might not be as far-fetched as I thought. Girls, we never know - do we? - what waits around the corner. I do hope it pleases you. Let me know at Nancyp31@hotmail.com

LEISURE CENTRE 1

I am following the hostess down the corridor. I think she's gorgeous. I am very receptive to beauty just now. I just adore her swaying hips in front of me, her slender waist, her shapely legs, all set off so admirably in her smart uniform of white blouse and short maroon skirt, and her short, soft , blonde hair. I feel clumsy in my loose bath robe, tied at the waist with a sloppy cord, stumbling along in my flip-flops. She seems so competent as the heels of her shoes tap purposefully on the hard floor in front of me.

And I am full of anticipation for what lies ahead. I am very keyed up although Mavis told me not to worry -- just to be myself -- act naturally -- use my imagination. She said she knows me very well and I will just be ecstatic. She certainly does and I am full of excitement.

"We're using the open air units to-day, it's such a nice day," the hostess announces. "I'm sure you're going to enjoy yourself!"

"Oh! I'm sure I shall," I reply. "I've heard such wonderful reports!"

Here we are! We've reached the door of my unit. She stands expectantly in front of me, so I slip off the robe which I hand over to her. I enjoy her appreciative gaze as her eyes wander over my naked body. I slip out of the shoes and she hangs the robe on a peg and puts the shoes on a shelf.

She pulls out a key and opens the door. "There you are, dear! Have a lovely time. Just press bell button when you're ready to come out."

I walk through the door which she closes behind me with a click. I hear the key turn in the lock. I'm all alone -- all by myself. I look round. It's all so bare and plain -- so functional. The room is surrounded by a high wall, too high to climb. It is open and the sky is blue above but it is shaded from the sun by the blank wall of the centre. The walls are tiled with large, plain, light pink tiles and very clean. The floor is also tiled in white marble and is clean as well but is covered with the light dust of the open air. It feels cool under my feet, which pick up a little of the dust. The door is glossy white and the only other thing I can see on the wall is the bell push.

In the centre of the room is the only other object apart from myself -- the couch -- rectangular and rather over knee height. The base is white and the covering is maroon velvet. The colours remind me of the attendant's uniform. There is an extension at one end. It is also covered in maroon velvet and the surface is in the form of a triangle. At the tip of the triangle, at the end of the couch, I see -- It. I draw my breath in sharply. This is what I've come for!

But It can wait for a moment. I just want to enjoy being naked for a change -- and in the open air. I prance round the apartment with long steps, opening my legs wide. I feel free at last, free to express myself, to love the beauty of my body. I throw out my chest and cup the soft, round, globes of my breasts in my hands. I caress them gently but firmly. pushing them upwards. The palms of my hands glide over my nipples, lightly, gently and I feel them harden under the touch. With a sharp intake of breath my lungs fill with the first wave of rapture and my head moves backwards and turns to the side in delight. I fondle, stroke and caress my breasts, stimulating the excitement in my upper body to the maximum, then firmly and slowly slide my hands down my middle, open my legs wide and press them on to the inside of my upper thighs. How wonderful to be alone for a little while -- to be able to do just what I want.

"Ah! Hah! Aa-ah!" What's that? A woman's voice! Is it pain or ecstasy? "Go on, girl! You can! You can!" Breathless encouragement. Sounds like a younger woman. "Ah! Hah! Aa-aaah!" Higher pitched. More urgent. "Go on, darling!" "Come to Mummy!" Excited female shouts -- almost screams. "Hah! Hah! Hah! Hah! Ha-a-a-a-a-ah!............................." I listen, enthralled, as the voice rises to a passionate crescendo and finishes in a long drawn-out cry. Finally, I can just hear a happy sigh.

Certainly, I'm hardly alone, but nobody can see me. The sounds of pleasure are deeply stimulating. I open my thighs and bend my knees. I draw the tip of the middle finger of my right hand up and down the slit between the outer lips of my vulva -- slowly -- deliberately. What a lovely feeling! My muscles feel relaxed, my vagina readies for penetration. I hold the finger before my eyes and inspect the shiny covering of moisture glistening over the tip, then lick it off with my tongue. I smile to myself. That's nice!

Now is the time to look at It. I sit down by It on the couch and inspect It, fascinated. It is long and thin and smooth and round. It stands up from the corner of the couch at an angle, sloping forwards towards the centre. It is an angry, bright red and contrasts vividly with the more sedate colours around me. It seems to be shouting for attention and I want to cover It. Tentatively, hesitantly, I grasp It with the palm of my hand. It feels somehow exciting, smooth but yielding. I can move It backwards and forwards, at any angle to the couch.

I slide my hand up and down It, my palm clasped round It. This is my first surprise. The surface seems to quiver under my caress, to send a sensation which is almost electrical through the skin of my hand. I gasp with delight. I want to see if It will do the same wherever it touches me. I lean over and stroke It over my breast. What a thrill! Shivers run across the skin. I even squeal as I press a nipple on to It and the sensitive flesh responds to the excitation. The nipple hardens under the caresses of my palm. I yearn for more contact and find that I can lean over the end of the couch with It between my breasts. I rub myself up and down It, wipe It over my breasts and tease my nipples until I can stand no more, the pleasure driving me wild.

But I must have more. I walk round to the end of the couch and find that I can manoeuvre It over my body. If I open my legs and bend my knees a little I can stroke It over my lower abdomen and the sensation is gloriously exciting. I stand straighter and pull It forward over my upper thighs and between my legs. The quivering feeling is particularly strong over the more tender parts of my body and I am drooling with pleasure. But I must have still more.

Firmly, I open my legs wider. bend my knees a little more and taking a firm hold of It, I wipe It's tip up the slit of the lips of my vulva as I did with my finger a few moments ago. The feeling is excruciatingly intense. I have to take a firm hold of myself and force myself on to It. But I know I must. I want to give in to the sensation now, to simply throw myself on the couch or the floor and writhe in uncontrolled passion, but It is going to do more to me. I have to control myself now, then It will control me. Tensing my whole body I slowly slide the quivering tip up and down my stimulated vaginal lips, my whole being concentrated on the point of contact. But it has to be more. Almost mesmerised I watch the tip move up the slit and gently enter between the swollen lips until it softly touches my clitoris. The intensity of the pleasure is unbelievable. For a long, long moment I freeze, unable to move, hardly able to breathe. Can there be anything after this?

Yes there can. After an age my ecstasy subsides enough to allow me to move It slightly against my clitoris. I can feel a gentle pulsing inside It through the palm of my hand, almost like a heartbeat. Gradually my whole being is starting to vibrate with the rhythm of the pulse. I can move a bit more now and uneasily writhe my hips so that my clitoris rubs on to It. Every contact sends a new spasm of pleasure coursing through my body.

I move It down towards the entrance of my vaginal passage. I know It will have to come into me and I dearly want It to, but just for the moment It can stay here. I am getting so moist now, my glands are secreting at every touch and pulse. The tip is so comforting here after my clitoral passions, a little rest would be nice -- to feel like a pretty woman again.

But no, the throbbing is getting more pronounced now. more demanding, and, whatever I do, the tip is ever edging its way towards my opening. It wants to come inside me, It has to come inside me, I just have to let It and succumb. Slowly, inevitably, I am moving so that It can penetrate me, I don't think I'm a free woman any more. The tip is inside me now. I am beginning to lean forward and, as I fall an to the couch, I sigh with delight as I feel It slide gently up my passage. I dimly feel the excitement of It sliding against the walls of my vagina, stimulating the linings, and at this moment the only thing that matters in the world is this lovely object entering between my legs.

I am lying face down on the couch now, still, just loving this new sensation. But now I want more. I must have more. I squirm and my body slides against the smooth velvet of the couch, comforting but stimulating. The movement just emphasises the presence of It between my thighs. I squirm myself on It, clenching the muscles round my crotch I move up and down to the rhythm of It's pulse. It's good, very good -- but I must have more -- more! -- more!! I'm concentrating completely on the feeling of the surface of It sliding up and down my vaginal walls, sending It's dull quivers through my body. If only I could feel more!

I can feel more! It is growing, expanding, getting thicker, filling me more completely. stretching the walls of my vagina. The excitement is stimulating me to more vigorous movements. I am grinding my hips on to It, swaying from side to side and the feeling in my extended vagina is increasing. How big is It going to get? I must have more. I slide myself up and down the penetrating creation, trying to increase the friction between us. I can feel It's surface changing. It's getting covered with ridges and lumps, increasing my awareness of It to even higher levels. My passion increases making me writhe even more violently and I am caught helplessly in a vicious circle, which is taking me over. It is getting longer. I can feel It pressing against the extremity of my vagina. I want to feel It more. I'm pressing myself on to It, harder and harder. It's starting to hurt me! Oh! Glorious pain! Now the tip seems to have softened. There's no pain. Just It, right inside me! Everything is getting vague and blurred and all that matters is what is between my legs and the joy it is creating through my body. The feeling is unbearable and I dimly realise that I am now stiff and rigid, unable to move. It has become so thick and is stretching my vagina so much that I could not stand any more.

How long am I like this? What is time, anyway? Only this feeling matters. An age passes. Passion subsides. I become aware of my body, centred around the intruder between my hips. With satisfaction, I become conscious of It's entire length penetrating my vaginal passage.

Can I never be satisfied? I'm always wanting more! The vaginal awareness caused by the intrusion of It is producing a reaction at my entrance. I need stimulation on my clitoris. Uneasily, I try to grind my pubic mound into the velvet cover of the couch. The smoothness of the material is comforting, but I am unable to find anything to slide between the upper portions of my lips and stimulate the delicate organ underneath. I think I shall have to use my fingers. Just a minutes! What's this? I can feel something soft and gentle underneath me -- as if something is growing there.

It is sending something soft and spongy into me. I can feel It parting my lips slowly and pushing against my clitoris. I stir uneasily against It and a spasm of delight rages through me. I must be near fulfilment now, conscious only of my extended vagina and my petted clitoris.

A feeling of contentment falls over me as I rock myself gently against It to the beat of It's pulse. I am feeling wonderful. Can this go on for ever, please? However, It still has another idea. Gently, a finger is extending from the base of It's shaft between the lower parts of my lips, pushing them apart. The finger pushes down until it meets the bottom corner, the place where my lips join. With great delight, I feel It stretching the whole opening of my vagina, from the tip of my clitoris to this intimate place. It is making me conscious of the whole of my vulva, from the opening to the innermost part of my vagina. I am aware of myself as never before, of my entire being as a woman. I am feeling fulfilled.

There is more, though. I am beginning to feel a buzzing sensation from the spongy material touching my clitoris. My breathing becomes heavier as the buzzing increases and sends waves of rapture through me. I don't want anything else but this now. It just has to go on, to take me completely for ever. The buzzing rises and falls to the beat of the pulse and I reach an even higher plateau of delight, a plateau on which I am panting desperately and I am in a daze of delirium.

I am in a dilemma now. I must reach the heights of mindless passion I have just experienced, but I don't want to finish -- I just want to go on for ever. I am making up my mind to increase the vigour of my movements to achieve that state but to lift myself off a bit if the pressure becomes too great. I am pushing my crotch down on It and squirm my hips. Oh! It's working! The feeling is growing. Up and up, higher and higher. I am rubbing myself on the velvet of the couch and squirming round It. I can feel It now, all over the opening of my vagina and right up me, pressing gently into the middle of me. I am struggling for breath now. The sensation is getting too much, I'm pulling myself off It. I am lifting up my pelvis now. Oh dear! It is just following me. It won't let me go. It's wonderful really. I have lifted myself right off the couch, but It has grown and followed me, is still holding my vagina, is pulsing even more strongly and the buzzing on my clitoris is getting faster. I can't stand It any more. I have to let go and give in. I'm rigid, hardly breathing. I collapse and It lets me fall back on the couch. Passion rages through my body in uncontrollable waves. I feel tossed about like a wreck on the ocean.......

When I awake, all is quiet. How long ago was I awake? A woman's voice shouts: "That was really something, honey!" Is she talking to me? Have I been screaming and raving? My throat feels sore. Only moments perhaps. Just lie still for a while. It still feels very comfortable inside me, is gently caressing the folds of my lips..................... Can I get off It now? Gently, I lift myself off. No problem! Just a few moments more rest!

I feel better now. I sit up and look at It, all rigid and raging red as before. Could all that have got inside me? There is the big red shaft which filled me up, with the veined and craggy surface. I touch the tip -- soft as cotton wool. Just as well! I could have hurt myself, the way I was feeling. --and the soft spongy mass which so gently teased and flattered my clitoris. --and the little finger which pushed down the bottom corner of my lips. I am feeling horny again just looking at it. It's so clever, the way it reacts to what you're feeling. It even anticipates your needs. Really! It's wonderful what science can do!

I walk to the door and press the bell. The assistant arrives in no time. "I know you've had a good time!" she smiles.

I take a last look round the room -- at the early evening sky. It has just gone back to being the single slender rod I saw when I arrived.

I slip on the robe and the flip-flops and follow the assistant back to the cubicle. I am going to have a lovely hot bath and spend ages on my hair and my make-up. I feel so relaxed!

I am finally satisfied with my appearance so I grab my handbag and leave. At the reception I share a few words with the assistant and then make as if to leave.

"Another appointment, dear? When can you come again?" she enquires.

"Oh, yes! Of course!" I stammer. "Oh, dear! I can't possibly come to-morrow. How about Thursday? As soon as possible in the morning!"

"Lovely! We'll look forward to seeing you. Bye bye!" she smiles.

As I walk through the door I realise I am supposed to be meeting Mavis on Thursday morning. Oh, well! Never mind! She'll understand. She'll have to use her imagination


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