It was the Tuesday evening after the opening of Brenda’s Art Deco hotel, and Sarah and I were snuggling up on the sofa. We had discussed the weekend and agreed that, though it had been extremely enjoyable, neither of us was in a rush to repeat what happened with Jake. In a way, we were still savouring that sexual rush that experience had brought.
However, I noticed that Sarah hadn’t taken off her gold anklet, which she had been wearing during our weekend away. It was our game’s private signal. Since our Cretan holiday, we have agreed that when Sarah wore the small chain around her right ankle, it signalled her availability for sexual play with others.
The chain itself was thin, almost unnoticeable, yet I couldn’t help glancing at it. My eyes were almost involuntarily being pulled towards it, and when they did so, I noticed Sarah’s sly grin. We both knew she was waiting for me to say something. Ask her to remove it, but I never did; I chose to remain silent.
We were sitting there watching television when the telephone started ringing. I thought it might be Clare, my second girlfriend. In trying to keep her close, Sarah and I had earlier chatted with her, and we knew she was out tonight on a date with her sub-girlfriend, Karen. To both of us, it currently felt like she was living the life of a lesbian in the city.
“We need to give her time,” I kept saying to Sarah, though I knew when I said it that I was also reassuring myself. I just hoped that Clare would work it out that she was bisexual and her life was with me… and hopefully Sarah.
“I don’t know the number,” I stated as I picked up the telephone receiver, thinking it might be something important to do with work.
“Is Sarah there?” A lady with a North American accent questioned.
“I’m her boyfriend, David,” I said carefully, turning to face Sarah, who was now cautiously watching me after hearing her name.
“It’s for you; it is a Canadian lady.”
Sarah just looked at me strangely. It was clear that she didn’t know any Canadian ladies. I handed her the phone as we heard laughter emanating from the other end of the line.
“Sarah here.”
“Hi Sarah, this is Liz… I am the lady who placed the advert in Adult Contact UK.”
“Oh, umm.”
“By the way, I am English—West Country, actually, though I do have an American husband and have resided in the United States for half of the past ten years.”
The phone call had caught us by surprise, and I motioned for Sarah to switch to the speakerphone, which she did after Liz agreed.
Sarah quietly stated, “This is our first time, and I wanted my boyfriend to hear it, at least at the start of this conversation.” Then she more loudly giggled, “Of course, I can kick him out later if you want me to.”
Liz laughed.
I took that as a positive sign. Though this conversation felt somewhat strange, I didn’t know if I should just listen or directly talk about what Sarah wanted—or just state what I required. But then my girlfriend said something unexpected, and it just seemed to flow from there.
“Oh, by the way, I am lying on the bed naked. So perhaps you caught me at a good time!” After saying it, Sarah briefly grinned at me.
I felt my cock harden. The truth was she was almost nude, wearing just her short, pink kimono dressing gown, though we were sitting in the lounge, the muted television flickering in the background.
“It does sound like I have called at a good time!” Liz exclaimed.
Sarah giggled as she reintroduced us.
Then Liz took over. “Well, you two—thank you for replying to my advertisement. I have had quite a few replies to it over the last three years. However, I was titillated as soon as I saw your answer. Then when I saw Sarah’s photo, I thought I would call straight away, thinking it would turn out to be a false number.”
Sarah jumped in, “Why?”
“Because you look so beautiful, I look forward to exploring your body.” Liz sounded excited, her words occasionally having a faint drawl. However, Liz’s answer made Sarah blush.
“Liz,” I said, slightly butting in.
“As you now know, we are newbies at this, so we have no idea how it works.” I looked at Sarah; she was watching me, probably wondering what I was going to say, but I didn’t want to spoil her moment. I wanted my first girlfriend to enjoy this sexual experience. After all, I needed to keep the sexual equilibrium between my two girlfriends if I wanted the chance to keep them both.
“I’m going to allow you and Sarah to have a private conversation in a moment, but Liz, if you both decide to meet; I want to be present at the initial meeting. Simply put, I intend to thoroughly evaluate you and ensure the safety of my girlfriend. We are in a serious relationship, and with my encouragement, she is exploring her bisexual side. This is relatively new for both of us, I hope you understand.”
Sarah warmly smiled at me. I had the feeling that, for once, I had said something right.
Liz chuckled over the phone, “David, I wouldn’t have it any other way, as I have a family too, so vetting works both ways.”
I smiled; that answer was good enough for me.
“Thank you; now we have an understanding. I leave you with Sarah to talk privately.”
With that, we both said our goodbyes, and I passed the phone to Sarah, who walked into the bedroom, turning the speakerphone off on the way.
She closed the door behind her.
I unmuted the television and sat there as the hazy picture flickered in front of me. My mind was elsewhere, wondering what was happening beyond the bedroom door. Thinking of Sarah, I didn’t understand why she wasn’t willing to simply experiment with Clare. After all, they had now slept with each other in the same bed at least a dozen times.
And that was not all.
Twice now, Sarah and Clare had put on a full lesbian show just for me to watch, though, of course, later on, I had joined in. However, Sarah had informed me that while occasional casual sex with Clare was acceptable, that was all she desired.
I closed my eyes and let Sarah’s reasons churn through my mind: Clare was too close to her family, Sarah was not ready for a real girl-girl relationship, and Clare had too many things going on in her life.
To me, there seemed to be an ever-growing list of negative reasons.
I glanced at the closed bedroom door, now excluded from this intimate conversation. It was just like Crete, where Sarah had wanted to experiment with Ashley, but first, only in private.
My mind drifted. I thought of Clare; she had given me a similar list of reasons: Sarah was not ready, and Clare was too busy with Karen, Brenda, and so on. Hers was another ever-growing list.
The truth was, we all had our agendas, even me. However, my dreams of owning a large house, living in harmony with both Sarah and Clare and raising a large family with them seemed improbable and far off.
After ten minutes I couldn’t take any more; I muted the television and walked to the bedroom door before putting my ear to it. I heard Sarah laugh; she was talking about Ashley, and I thought it must be going well. So, I returned to the sofa and waited for my girlfriend.
It was another ten minutes before a completely naked and slightly flushed Sarah appeared. She returned the telephone to its docking station in our lounge.
“I assume everything went well,” I enquired, but all I received from Sarah was a wriggling finger indicating that I should follow her. We went straight into our bedroom, my cock suddenly erect and pointing the way.
She lay back on the bed, her bald pussy red and slightly swollen. It was clear to me that she had been masturbating while speaking to Liz.
Sarah whispered in short, almost desperate breaths, “Fuck me, fuck me hard; make me cum.”
I knew Liz’s unexpected telephone call had charged us as I slipped between my girlfriend’s outstretched legs. Our pent-up sexual energy sought release as my cock found Sarah’s wet opening, and I plunged in—one deep thrust into her arousal.
Sarah gasped as a wave of pleasure surged through her. Our lustful eyes met each other’s; this was never going to be a long fuck; this was always going to be a quickie.
We started to move; Sarah’s legs locked around my back. My thrusts were urgent, hers demanding, each one of them meeting mine. There were licentious groans and gasps for breaths. We exchanged small kisses, our eyes locked on each other’s, our minds grappling with the thought of Liz.
Slap, slap, slap, my cock already twitching, seeking its exigent release. With a mutual groan, we were there. Our lust-filled, slapping body symphony transformed into a toe-curling orgasm.
We were done, and we had a new sexual agenda.
*****
The journey to Liz’s phone call started back in mid-September when I purchased two adult contact magazines. After our experiences in Crete, we were looking for an older lesbian or bisexual lady to continue Sarah’s ‘introduction’ into the ways of girl-on-girl sex.
It had been the arrival of the bisexual Clare that prompted Sarah to confess to me that she had always had a strong sexual attraction towards other women, despite never acting on it. Sarah even went as far as admitting it had always been her number one sexual fantasy and that was unlikely to ever change.
Since then, Sarah has been with two female sexual partners, in Crete, Ashley and, of course, the ongoing Clare.
However, according to Sarah, both those ladies just occurred; she never tried to instigate it. So this was different; she needed to understand her sexual preference.
What Sarah was looking for was some discreet time with an older, experienced lady who lived well away from her village and her everyday life. She wanted to enjoy the sex with no pressure about relationships or being found out by her family, friends, and even Clare.
Though I didn’t like it, I had gone along with keeping this confidential from Clare. But I didn’t like keeping confidences from my second girlfriend, even if she was no angel herself when it came to secrets.
We had owned the two magazines for a few weeks when Sarah admitted that there was one advertisement that had caught her attention. It was in the women looking for other women section.
There was no photo, and the advertisement was just three lines…
It read…
REF No X12345.
Very attractive business lady, AC/DC late thirties, seeking younger females, AC/DC for mutual pleasures, loves O, DIY, sexy lingerie, stockings, high heels, etc. Photography. My husband approves. Can travel or do hotel meet. SAE frank letter, photo, and tel. no. No fees.
A Local County & Surrounding Area.
I looked at the location. It was relatively close, from where we lived, no more than forty miles to the mentioned county border.
At the time, I had looked at Sarah and asked, “Why do you like this ad over the others?”
She didn’t want to answer, so I cheekily said, “If that advertisement didn’t have—my husband approves—it could have been Brenda.” This was Clare’s older butch lesbian girlfriend.
Sarah correctly pointed out that Brenda was most likely in her late forties, although no one except Paula, her Personal Assistant, knew her exact age, and it remained a guarded secret.
“What do you want to do?” I asked. This was going to be entirely Sarah’s decision.
“I don’t know,” Sarah quietly said. She was waiting for me.
“It’s up to you, Sarah. But whatever happens, I’ll be there with you, especially for the first meeting.”
Sarah smiled.
I then looked through the magazine to see how you answered. It was a form that you needed to be posted to a PO Box number, along with a frank letter and a photo of Sarah.
“So, what do you want to do?” I asked once again.
“I like to try it, you know, reply.”
Sarah was looking at me and trying to gauge my reaction.
“Okay, but we need to reply with a frank letter, and that goes back to my earlier question. Why do you like this ad above the rest?”
I wanted to learn and understand Sarah, as I couldn’t fathom why she wasn’t happy just having sex with Clare.
“It is everything, David. I find the idea of an attractive businesswoman who is married appealing. That her husband approves and maybe even dressing up for saucy photos. I am sure I can write an interesting and frank letter, and we have plenty of photos of me.”
I smiled; we had boxes of them.
Since the realisation that she was now a semi-professional model being used in a national advertising campaign, Sarah seemed to have no issues at all posing for semi-private raunchy photos. This was all part of the new, sexually liberated Sarah.
“It’s your call, but if you write the draft first and when finished, let’s go over it together,” and that is exactly what we did. Sarah wrote a draft, I added a couple more words, and then we filled in the form.
The letter read…
Dear Attractive Business Lady,
I am a pretty (so I am told), blonde, eighteen-year-old woman with some AC/DC experience, looking for an older lady to show her the AC/DC way. I love DIY, receiving and giving oral, wearing sexy lingerie, open to private photos, and all types of kinky girly fun. Can travel; my boyfriend approves but needs to be present at the first meeting just to check I am safe; no fees.
Sarah
After reading it a second time, I grinned, which caused Sarah to surprisingly nudge me.
“What was that for?” I innocently asked.
“You were going to say something childish about no fees.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I retorted, even though we both knew she was right—having sex for money was number two on my girlfriend’s sexual fantasy list.
We sat on posting the return letter for a week, a cooling-off period, but nothing changed. Sarah continued to be excited about answering. She had even gone as far as saying that she found it extra thrilling because it felt a little seedy using a contact magazine and meeting up with someone just for sex.
I was just happy to support her, though deep down I was unsure I wanted this to happen.
So, a week later, we found a photograph. It showed Sarah, sitting on one of my apartment bar stools, clothed in a short, white, clinging dress. She wore black tights, her long, shapely legs drawn together and hooked under her.
It was not the most revealing, or explicit photo, but it hinted at what Sarah had to offer, especially as there was a hint of her black lacy bra showing in the dress’s vee.
I put the whole lot into an envelope and posted it to the PO Box address provided, and we waited.
We both thought it would be months before we heard anything, but on that, we were wrong. It was only a week later when we received that first phone call from Liz.
*****
Liz called again late Thursday evening, and it wasn’t long before I found myself watching the television alone once more while Sarah took the phone into our bedroom.
She wanted to speak to Liz in private. However, she did promise that next time I could watch her and listen to their conversation. As Sarah closed the bedroom door, she blew me a kiss and, with a smile, told me to keep that thought in mind.
I had been surprised just how quickly Sarah had taken to Liz, and even though we were still awaiting the arrival of her promised photos, we did soon learn a lot more about her.
Liz was rapidly approaching her thirty-seventh birthday and had been married to Derek, a forty-year-old, for fifteen years, after they first met at university. They had two children, Alice, nine, and Daniel, seven, and her American husband, who was by profession a school teacher, looked after them as Liz frequently travelled for her job.
She was a businesswoman who had been headhunted at thirty by a well-known US pharmaceutical company and had quickly risen through the ranks to become a senior executive in charge of European logistics. This required her to spend a significant amount of time travelling; she had been in Italy on Tuesday and Germany tonight. With a platinum company expense account and free evenings when travelling, Liz had time to phone Sarah or one of the many other girls her advertisement had attracted.
It appeared to me that Liz had a girlfriend in each city she visited, and she was eager to include Sarah in her circle. Though surprisingly, I soon learnt, with a few exceptions, that Liz only visited a girl three times as she didn’t want long relationships.
When I heard that, I almost smiled, as that suited me. I didn’t want Sarah to be in a long-term relationship like my other girlfriend, Clare. I just wanted her to have a few new sexual experiences.
With interest, I listened to how Derek’s and Liz’s relationship worked. She was very bisexual; he was straight but liked watching his wife have sex with different partners, mainly other women. Due to their jobs and being parents, these sexual liaisons were always carried out in the strictest confidence and with absolute trust from both parties.
He liked watching, seeing the photos or even videos, and above all, hearing the stories. Derek rarely had sex with any of the girls his wife entertained. The only exception was when they invited you to their Cotswold home, as when their children were away at their grandparents’ house, they occasionally hosted other like-minded couples for ‘adult’ weekends.
When Sarah told me about Derek, my first thoughts were that he sounded just like me, even down to the fact that he liked photography
However, on reflection, that was not exactly true. While I had and continued to enjoy showing off and even sharing Sarah, there were limitations, as well as good reasons.
There was no doubt that Clare had been the trigger to energise Sarah’s and my relationship. Meeting her when I did was the catalyst, and then bringing her into our relationship was the fuel to drive us to where we currently were.
If there hadn’t been Clare, I am sure there wouldn’t have been Crete and Sarah’s sexual fantasy list. She probably would not have acknowledged her strong sexual attraction to other women and that she got extremely turned on at the thought of having sex for money.
In the last three months, Sarah had grown greatly as a woman; she was not just a pretty picture haunted by her past. Now she was three-dimensional, both beautiful inside and out. She had gained confidence and had desires and hopes for the future.
We had learnt to communicate as a couple, and we had fallen deeper in love with one another. There was a future waiting for us—one that Sarah had hinted could include Clare.
However, I also recognised that Sarah was actively watching and learning from Clare, her friend and secret lover. I told myself, with Clare very much part of it, that Liz was just another step on the journey Sarah and I were on.
Later, when I enquired if Liz was similar to Brenda, Sarah giggled and assured me that she was not. She went on to tell me that Liz wore tight-fitting and expensive women’s business suits, owned Prada handbags, and wore Jimmy Choo shoes. Liz dressed to showcase her company status while maintaining a feminine appearance.
I groaned when Sarah informed me that we were going shopping tomorrow afternoon. It was because she wanted to spend some of the money she had received from modelling for Stanley.
I couldn’t help but gently remind Sarah that she couldn’t yet afford Prada handbags or Jimmy Choo shoes. It was a comment that first earned me a warm smile and then a tender, loving nudge, as we both knew Sarah couldn’t help but admire expensive things.
On Friday, I visited women’s clothing shops in the city and then carried the carrier bags back to the car. I noticed that Sarah was still gradually transitioning her wardrobe to more revealing, tighter outfits, all of which would find a home in the wardrobe in my spare bedroom.
As we shopped and Sarah tried on several items, once again I noticed the thin gold anklet around her right ankle. She hadn’t removed it, and I hadn’t mentioned it hanging there. Its presence was a beacon to our new and evolving lifestyle.
For the weekend, Clare returned to our lives, while Liz remained largely forgotten. I certainly never mentioned her to my second girlfriend.
A dull Monday morning arrived. It was a day I knew was going to be filled with work meetings about the production of a new variation of a product that I had designed. It was primarily for the huge, Boston-based company that was now testing our equipment, and I was giving engineering support to.
However, just as I left, an A4-sized envelope arrived in the mail, and my day suddenly brightened. The package bore Sarah’s name on the front and a return address on the back. It was for a village in the Cotswolds.
I quickly phoned Sarah to let her know that Liz’s photos had arrived and that we would review them together tonight.
That evening, when I picked Sarah up from her house, there was an unusual urgency in the air as we both wanted to get to my flat and review Liz’s photos. This was something that we had agreed to do together in the privacy of my bedroom. We were both extremely intrigued to know what Liz looked like.
During our ten-minute journey, Sarah informed me that she had ‘borrowed’ her parent’s Polaroid camera and purchased a couple of packets of film to send a few photos to Liz for security. This was news to me.
Sarah then reminded me that we couldn’t use my far superior camera and have Brenda process the film, as Liz needed to remain our secret for the time being.
Enquiring, I asked, “What do you mean by security photos?”
Sarah explained, “We have agreed that one photo will have an A4-sized piece of paper with Liz’s name on it… One of Liz’s photos should have my name on it!”
“That makes sense, and the second?”
“Don’t laugh… but the second security photo has to have a cucumber in it.”
I laughed and was just about to say something when Sarah cut me off.
“I am not sticking it in my pussy!”
My laughter continued, as that was exactly where my mind had been going. We both knew it!
Once in my flat, we sat on the bed, and I watched Sarah eagerly open the A4-size envelope. Inside were five photos and a cover letter, which we read first. It simply said…
Hi Sarah,
I hope you both enjoy my photos. Derek, and especially me are looking forward to receiving yours.
Liz X
After reading that, we turned our attention to the first photo.
As Sarah turned the first A4-sized photo over, I knew this adventure could stop right now if Sarah wasn’t comfortable with what she saw on the other side of the photographic paper. The only information we had about her appearance came from her statement in the advertisement, where she used the word “attractive,” and the comments she made to Sarah during the two phone calls.
We remained silent as we took in the professionally taken photograph. It showed Liz wearing an olive lady’s business suit. The cut and fit of it informed any admirer that this lady was a woman who conveyed both femininity and power.
However, we weren’t interested in that; our focus was on the woman beyond the suit, and we couldn’t deny her attractiveness.
Liz may be nearly thirty-seven, but she looked younger—a lot younger. Her chestnut eyes reminded me of Clare’s, and they matched the colour of her long, wavy hair. Her mouth was voluptuous, just like Sarah’s. This first photo might have been a safe one, but you could feel Liz’s sexiness and inherent beauty leaping out of the picture.
“Does she look like what you expected?” I eventually asked Sarah; the other photos were still untouched.
“She looks too good to believe,” Sarah whispered and then carefully added. “She looks at least ten years younger than thirty-six.”
“It could be an old photo,” I tentatively suggested, knowing that it was a possibility, though hoping that it wasn’t.
“I guess we find out when we meet her,” Sarah remarked; it was obvious she had already made up her mind about that.
Sarah flipped to the next photograph.
In this picture, Liz was still wearing the same business suit, sitting on a chair, smiling, and gazing at the camera. She had hitched up her skirt and crossed her legs to show her black stocking tops. Like the first photograph, it looked like it had been taken professionally in a studio, but unlike the first photo, this second one hinted at naughtiness—something sexy yet wicked.
I felt my cock harden, forming a visible bulge for Sarah to see, as I realised for the first time that I wanted this to happen.
The third and final photo, taken in the same studio, featured Liz completely nude. Liz was standing in just high-heeled shoes, her back to the photographer, and her head turned over her left shoulder. She was smiling at the camera—what I would call a naughty grin as it rippled right across Liz’s pretty face. The other grin was both cheeky and perky, and it emanated from her stunning bare bottom.
“She’s beautiful,” Sarah exclaimed, and she was, but not as beautiful as Sarah… or Clare.
I felt I needed to say something.
“Sarah, you are even more beautiful than Liz,” I whispered, and I meant it, “and there is another thing that you both have in common.”
A smiling Sarah, her eyes already slightly glazed, looked at me. She was waiting for me to continue…
“An all-over tan.”
We both looked at the last photo again and, like me, realised the absence of any tan lines. Liz’s skin was lightly tanned all over, similar to what Sarah’s had been on her return from Crete.
“Come on; let’s see the last two photographs,” I said, “before we get too distracted.”
The next one was the last studio photo, and we now concluded that Derek had almost certainly taken these. In the scene, Liz lay on a bed on her back, completely nude except for her black holdup stockings. Liz’s legs were together, with a neatly trimmed dark triangle of pubic hair nestling at the junction of her thighs. But that was not all that resided there; a large, very long cucumber protruded proudly into the air. Its presence had both Sarah and me laughing.
I chuckled, “Well, I guess you’re going to have to put the one you brought with you in your pussy now!”
Sarah nudged me and exclaimed, “In your dreams!”
In a more serious tone, I asked, “Does Liz use a strap-on like Brenda, and occasionally, Clare?”
Sarah didn’t know.
A Polaroid camera captured the final photo, showing Liz naked, clutching an A4-sized piece of paper bearing Sarah’s name and the date from last Tuesday; it had been taken in a hotel room.
“Liz must have taken that just after you had spoken with her. You must have made quite an impression,” I grinned. “So what did you do in private, on the phone with her?”
I pulled Sarah close, and we rolled into the centre of the bed.
Sarah grinned as we began to kiss, and my hand unbuckled her jeans before lowering their zip.
“What are you doing?” She then questioned.
“I’m getting you into your kimono dressing gown,” I lied as I slid between Sarah’s legs and started unbuttoning her blouse.
“You know I have to take some photos for Liz; I don’t want to be all puffy and gooey for them,” Sarah whispered as her bra followed her blouse on the floor.
“I seemed to remember that was exactly how you were after your telephone call.”
Sarah knew I was right and softly giggled, “I love you,” as she began assisting me with her jeans.
“But David, promise me one thing… Never stop being you.”
Authors Note: All characters engaged in sexual acts are 18+ ©2025 wxt55uk. This story may not be reproduced in any manner without the express permission of the author.
