“Take off your clothes,” she coached her younger self. “It’s just me.”
She didn’t know that she could, but realized she was already unbuttoning her jeans and kicking off her shoes and socks. This seemed to be another plain of existence — where old meets young and wisdom is shared. Tragedies, small and large, are corrected.
“Take off your shirt,” she coached.
Victoria did. Her young breasts still hidden inside a bra that covered almost all of her orbs. Her panties — what would become known as granny-panties — giving no semblance to the sensuality that her body was.
But they were wet between her thighs. Her unshaven bush feeling like sweat had run down her tummy all the way into her groin. She felt desire and curiosity.
Her older self continued to fuck the vibrator. “Watch this as it fucks my pussy. It’s smaller than Martin, but it still feels good to be impaled.”
“Fucks my pussy…smaller than Martin.” Where did she come up with such thoughts and realities? And if it’s smaller than Marty, she feared, maybe he was too big.
“He’s not too big, silly. He’s perfect for you. He makes you cum all the time.”
Victoria reached up and cupped her breast above her bra.
“It’s OK. Give yourself access. Take it off,” her older self coached as she squeezed her own clit quickly. The pinch of pain was pleasure.
Victoria Church, 20, who had not gotten naked for anyone, took off her bra and slipped off her granny panties for Vicki Rochester, 55.
God, I was a beautiful young woman, Vicki thought gazing at herself. This was different than a view in a mirror. This was another self; turned on, curious. Her older self, a vamp of desire, slipped the vibrator out of her pussy, stood up and returned next to her younger self. Their shoulders collided as the 55-year-old bunched up against supple self.
The vamp’s legs were spread as she reinserted the buzzing, moist toy; the virgin’s legs were clamped as she watched this woman slide the toy inside.
Vicki pulled the vibrator out.
“Feel this,” she told her companion, as she ran the purple people pleasure along her right nipple. Heavenly, her younger self thought. She swallowed hard and gulped. Her older self pushed her against the futon and ran the vibrator against her left nipple. Vicki had always been a tad jealous of the porn stars would could suck on their on breasts; now was her opportunity.
She drew in a breath as she licked quietly against her young breasts. Victoria had never had this happen to her before. Marty had only touched her a handful of times and she had him back off. She didn’t want to have this happen before. But that was then.
She looked at the woman kissing her chest. She had a small birthmark on her right shoulder; exactly like her own. She had her voice and her body, just older. She knew her past — and future. Victoria was completely at ease.
She looked as the hand with a gold wedding band on her ring finger touched her knee and spread her legs. Vicki leaned back and wrapped her right leg around her 20-year-old self’s left knee. She leaned against her and whispered in her ear.
“Touch yourself. Explore yourself.”
Victoria, in a high of wonderment, looked down at her breasts and nipples. Her left nipple, wet with the dew of her own mouth 35-years older. Her right nipple, moist with her own juices.
Vicki deftly returned the vibrating toy back into her pleasure and arched her back to accommodate the sensations. She inhaled deeply as she watched her younger self explore. Her hands caressed her nipples and breasts slowly. Her fingernails tickled her own tummy and thighs. She was wet, and she was not afraid. She was turned on, and she was not ashamed.
She pulled back her tuft of public hair and glazed at her vagina and clitoris. It had a purpose. It had a meaning. And it had a benefit. It felt warm, wet. It felt good as she slowly rubbed it. It was the first time she’d preverted her body in such a way, and she did it cautiously at first. She didn’t want to be gross, but she also wanted to know.
“Good, good,” Vicki softly praised. Her head was exploding with new memories of this event as she also enjoyed the current input.
Victoria looked at the television screen. The male character, Peter North, was now kissing two women as they were touching each other. It was … sexy. She thought about Marty touching her. She yielded to her instinct and fanned out her knees farther. Her index and middle finger ran along ripples of wetness at her vaginal entrance. Her fingers had never been here like this. She massaged as her counterpart fucked a vibrator.
Goosepimples invaded her skin, rising like waves on the ocean. And waves ripped the shoreline of her soul inside, her body in ecstasy as she rubbed furiously. Wetness seemed from her vagina.
Her older self smiled as she arched her back.
“It’s OK. It’s OK to climax,” she said, as she enjoyed a small orgasm through her fingers on her clit and the toy in her pussy.
Her younger self couldn’t smile, but she arched her back, her shoulders pressing high on the futon. The climax ignited against her clit, firing up her lower back to her spine and neck. Her chest heaved upward as the pleasure exploded in her maidenhood and mind.
“Oh …. my!” Victoria said. Words escaped her as her peak came to an apex and ebbed, slowly. She didn’t know what to say.
“Oh, fuck. Yeah,” Vicki said, the instant memory flooding into her mind as she came a second time watching her own first orgasm.
They collapsed their legs together and Vicki Rochester leaned into Victoria Church.
“It’s OK.”
“It’s better than OK,” she smiled. She’d had an orgasm. She knew they existed. She just never knew she’d have one.
