7 comments/ 97389 views/ 13 favorites Maureen's Slips By: SilkenLace This is not a work of fiction. It actually happened. However I have changed the names of the club and the person to avoid embarrassment. If you do not want to read a story about lesbian sex - do not read on. * When I was 19 I worked four nights a week in a youth club, St. Patrick's Y. C. It was a very popular youth club which attracted children and teenagers from a wide area in the west of the city. The club itself was actually a couple of large huts; the type you might find that act as additional classrooms in some schools. The interior of the club rooms was bright and welcoming and housed a variety of seats, tables, snooker and table tennis table. There were board games and posters and a club shop in one corner. The huts were actually situated within the local primary school grounds so outside there was a large playing area. The school hall was also used on occasion for discos and so on. But it was the people who made the club; their friendships and camaraderie blossomed under the auspices of the club. Socializing was a key aspect of the club's work. Many a relationship began there and quite a few marriages eventually developed. My best friend, Margaret, actually met her boyfriend there and they married eight years later. I suppose I was shyer than most of my peers but the club helped me to approach people with more confidence. When I became 19 (over the club's age limit for membership) I was asked by Maureen, the Leader-in-Charge, to become a voluntary youth worker. Naturally I accepted. Maureen was about 30 at the time of the story and, although I cannot describe her as beautiful in the conventional manner, I would say she was quite sexy in a quiet, unassuming way. She had short, sandy-coloured hair and a lovely body; her boobs were not large but they were well-defined and sat nicely on her chest. As she usually wore a dress that came to just above her knees I could tell that her legs were toned and smooth. I can imagine that many of the older teenagers and also the few men who worked in the club must have had sexual thoughts about her. Yet she never invited anything untoward from anyone; she was a single woman who cared very much about doing her job and seemed too shy about following up on any interest from certain admirers. § One day she asked me if I would be willing to paint the walls of the club with some cartoon characters such as Tom and Jerry. "The club's closing for week so you could do it then, what do you think?" "Yeah, I'll do that for you, Maureen." "Thanks, Helen," she said. "I'll be around too but I'm not good at painting." At this point I noticed her white lacy slip as her yellow dress just rode up her legs an inch or so. She had no tights on and she looked so good; lean and fit. I tried to keep up the conversation, to keep her there more than anything. Later that night I lay in bed wondering why I found myself thinking of her shape and body and clothes. I was not and still am not a lesbian and had never felt any sexual attraction towards another female but had often spent some time in the bed or the bath touching myself to thoughts of the opposite sex. "It might take me a few days to finish," I added, trying not to stare at her legs. She smiled. "As long as you need is fine with me." She shifted on the seat and the lace was lost to view. § On the fourth day I was almost finished and decided to continue into the evening rather than come in on the Friday. "OK," agreed Maureen. "I'll order us some food. What do you prefer -- Chinese, Indian or would you rather have some fish and chips?" "Er, honestly, Maureen, there's no need," I said. "I want to, Helen. Your painting's just brilliant and it's the least I can do. But ...." She frowned. "What's up?" "Hell! I forgot the phone's out til next week." "Oh," I felt a pang of disappointment. "Tell me how long will it take you to finish up?" she asked. "I think .... an hour should do it," I replied. "Will you come to my house and we'll order from there. I've some wine too. I don't know if you drink wine?" "I have done." Quite a lot, but I wasn't going to tell her that. "So will you come then?" I didn't think she understood the double entendre but as I gazed at her, dressed simply in a cinnamon brown dress I wondered if she had any idea just how attracted I was becoming towards her, evidenced by the light tingle between my legs. § She sat across from me in an armchair; I sat in the centre of a matching settee. Going over plans for a camping trip to a forest she asked if I'd be interested in going along for the experience. As she crossed her legs I had a glimpse of a light pink slip, it looked like satin, up the side of her skirt. I think she noticed I was looking because she shifted in her seat a few more times, smoothing her dress as she did so but to no avail. I could tell by then that the slip was silk and not satin and it had very fine lace on the hem. I tried my best not to stare (I really didn't want her to think I was some kind of freak) and thankfully the doorbell announced the arrival of the Chinese. An hour later, the meal digested and the two bottles of wine finished, I sadly thought the evening was coming to a close. I was really enjoying Maureen's company and found out that she liked pop music but loathed rock; hated cooking but loved eating and wound down the weekend generally by drinking some wine and watching TV. Alone. She had never dated seriously but had been out with a couple of men whom she liked but nothing more than that. But I also found out that she didn't want to talk about relationships and I guessed she was embarrassed by her lack of first hand knowledge. "Oh, I almost forgot," she said as she leaned across the table and touched my arm. "Do you want to see the layout for the new club building?" "Yeah, sure," I said. Anything to stay a while longer. She hesitated a bit. "Er, you'll have to come upstairs to the bedroom because I have it taped to the wall." I gulped. "I know, I know," she sighed. "You think I'm obsessed with the club?" "Not at all!" I replied, giving her hand a squeeze. "I think you're great." As she led the sway (she was definitely tipsier than me) into her bedroom the phone went in the hall so she excused herself and went downstairs to answer it. I saw the large layout which almost took up one wall of the room but my attention wandered around the room. I sat on the edge of the bed and noticed her perfumes, hairbrush and a scattering of cosmetics. Then I saw it. Over the back of a chair near the dressing table was a lacy white slip -- similar if not the same as the one she wore earlier in the week at the club. I could still hear Maureen on the phone downstairs so I went over to the chair and touched the lace material of the slip. The upper part was silk. Gently I lifted it off the chair and held it towards my face. As I did so I saw something fall onto the floor. I looked down at a matching pair of French knickers; fine silk and soft lace. I could feel my own panties becoming damp as I thought of Maureen wearing these undergarments. I bent down to pick them up when I noticed the slight cream-colored stain in the gusset. I fingered the stain and felt the gentle shift of my nipples pushing against my bra. I knew it was wrong but I started to lift the knickers to my nose when I heard Maureen hanging up the phone. Quick as I could I set the underwear down on the back of the chair and tiptoed back to "study" the layout on the wall. She came in quietly and stepped up behind me. I was sure she'd hear the thumping of my heart. Suddenly I felt her hands on my waist, gentle and soft. I was so surprised I think I jumped a little at her touch. "So what do you think?" she almost whispered. I was aware of the feel of her hands and I was also very aware of the dampness moistening my panties and the slow arousal of my clitoris. "I'm not sure," was all I managed to say. "Oh, let me explain these rooms," she went on and lent across my shoulder to point out an enclosed area on the plan. Her front had pushed right up against my back and I felt the roundness of her breast near my shoulder. "This here is going to be the social area," she explained. I felt my clitoris twitch against the damp material of my white cotton panties. "And here we'll have the snack bar, the games room here, and the reception area and here the meeting room." Her voice was a little slurred. "I really like it," I breathed, though it wasn't the layout I was talking about. "Really?" she asked. I turned to face her but she didn't back away. Her hands returned to my waist and I saw her glance down at my chest and my hard nipples pushing against the pink tee shirt. I too put my hands tentatively on her waist and, through her dress, I could feel the ridge of elastic that held up either her slip or her panties. She let go of me and moved back against the bed. She lowered herself onto it and lay back on her elbows. Slowly she raised her leg and undid the strap of her shoe and let it fall to the floor. She did the same with the other leg and shoe. When she lowered her legs I found it hard to breathe: her dress had risen up quite a bit and her silk and lace pink slip was very evident. I must have been staring for she asked me what I was looking at. "Maureen, I don't want you to think I'm crazy or anything but you just look so sexy at the moment. And I've never said that to another woman. Never even thought it." She giggled a bit. "Must be the wine." I sat down beside her, still admiring her slip and dress in disarray. "Is it real silk?" I asked. "Why don't you feel it?" she said. I looked at her to see if she was joking. She was smiling but not joking. I swallowed hard and, with a shaky hand, lightly touched the lacy hem. She shifted slightly opening her legs a bit in the process. I began to get bolder and put several fingers under the slip, careful not to come into contact with her skin and, as I did so, I raised the slip to feel the silky material more. The edge of her pink French knickers was showing. I glanced at Maureen and found that she had settled back on the bed with her hands by her side and her eyes closed. I raised the slip even more and was rewarded with a stunning view of her knickers. I was beyond redemption at this point and let my free hand rest on her knee. Again I glanced at her face but she didn't move. I watched her face for a few seconds as I very gently traced my hand up her thigh towards the edge of the knickers. Her face showed no sign of feeling. But her legs moved further apart and I stared (perhaps ogled is a better word) at the silk material covering her sex. A small oval-shaped area was slightly darkened with her dampness. I rubbed my legs together because my clitoris was crying out for attention. I was soaked down there and could feel the juice moving around as I shifted my legs. When my fingers reached her sex I rubbed my thumb over the damp material several times. "Is this OK, Maureen?" I felt I had to ask. There was no answer and no indication that she heard me. "Maureen? Maureen?" I shook her slightly but she didn't stir. She must have fallen asleep and I had to stifle a giggle; the notion of her just dropping off like that would have been hilarious were it not for the fact that I yearned to touch her, hold her, kiss her. I slid off the bed onto my knees on the floor. Gently I eased her legs apart and focused on her silk-covered fanny. There was a slight bump just above the wet patch and I immediately recognised this to be her engorged clitoris. Mine was still throbbing and crying out for attention. Carefully I teased the bump with my fingernail and almost instantly I felt the bump stir and stiffen. At the same time I slipped my other hand inside the waistband of my tracksuit pants and down over my panties. I was shocked by how sodden they had become and, as I glanced down, I could see that some of the dampness had seeped through the crotch of my tracksuit bottoms. I was just moments away from an electrifying orgasm and I watched, spellbound, as the wet patch in Maureen's French knickers spread until the whole crotch was moist and becoming transparent. Just as I slipped two fingers under the edge of the knickers and instantly came into contact with the wet, hard bud of her clitoris her legs jerked and I heard a soft moan coming from her mouth. I withdrew my soaked fingers and concentrated on my own impending eruption which was building to a frenzy. Her bare foot was directly below me now and I took hold of her ankle and brought it up to my fanny. I eased her toes under the sodden leg elastic and started to masturbate myself with her foot. I ran the five toes across my erect throbbing clitoris and finally pushed the big toe as far as I could into my fanny. To say I exploded is no understatement. Never before and never since have I experienced such a thunderous orgasm. When I'd calmed down sufficiently I realised that Maureen's foot had become soaked; some of the cum dripped onto the beige carpet. I couldn't think what I could use quickly to dry her foot and then I remembered the white knickers on the back of the chair. I went over and got them and then used the gusset only to dry her foot as best I could. These knickers too were soon dripping. I considered taking them with me but decided to return them to the chair, under the beautiful white slip. Then, with one last peek under her skirt, I fixed the slip and skirt over her legs as well as I could. She was still asleep. § It was four days before I saw her again. Four days of mental torment because I was sure we had crossed some unspeakable boundaries that would have some very serious repercussions; we were both Catholics and the youth club was a Church-run club. And, as each day came and went, I felt sure the following day would be The Day of Judgement. Yet, when I did see her she came over to me and put her arm around my shoulders. "I really, really want to apologise to you for falling asleep the other evening. I had a little too much to drink. I can't remember anything after the meal but I do remember having the strangest dream which I might tell you about some time. So will you forgive me and come again?" Maureen's Slips Ch. 02 The Break-in While the first part, "Maureen's Slips", was entirely true, this second part is almost half true. The rest is fiction but I'm not explaining which parts are true and which are not. Enjoy! About three weeks went by without any developments, either good and sexy or bad and guilty, in the friendship between Maureen and myself. Of course we remained friends and continued to work alongside each other without a hitch. I really did expect her to recall what happened in her house and to confront me with it; but she didn't. As the days went by I relaxed more and realised that she had no memory of what transpired in her bedroom. Then one Friday night as the youth club was closing I saw that we were the last ones to leave. I was tidying some tables and chairs near the shop counter when I saw her climb up on a chair to lock an upper window. This particular night she was wearing a mauve cotton t-shirt and a knee length black skirt; an outfit that was both simple and yet stylish. As she stretched up, her skirt rose a couple of inches and I again got a glimpse of what it was that attracted me so much to her. The hem of her slip appeared – white and lacy. I recalled her bedroom once more and I felt a reaction, like a tickle from a feather, between my legs. "Helen, can you hold me steady while I get this window?" she said. "Sure, hold on!" I replied. As I made it over to her she rocked a little on the chair so I had to hold her to stop her from falling. My hands grabbed her hips to steady her. "You okay?" I asked. "Yes, thanks Helen. This chair's not steady." She reached up again and although my face was just about six inches away from her bottom my gaze went to the hem of her skirt and the lovely glimpse of her slip. I also felt, through my fingertips, the ridges of elastic under her skirt which I imagined came from her panties. My nipples were aching inside my own lace bra and I had to concentrate to keep them under control. When she finally got the window closed she twisted and placed both her hands on my shoulders to ease herself off the chair. For about three or four long silent seconds we stayed like that – she with her hands on my shoulders and I with my hands on her hips. "Are we going to dance?" she asked with a smile. I laughed with embarrassment and let go of her hips. § The following Sunday was a fairly quiet night in the club. There were no more than twenty members and just two other leaders apart from Maureen and myself. The members were playing the usual games of table tennis, chess, draughts or just listening to the music and chatting away in small groups. Outside there was a small group of young teenagers playing football beside the primary school building. The primary school was perhaps the focus of the local community; almost everyone I knew had gone there at some stage in their lives. Maureen had and I had. The building must have been built before the Second World War; it was certainly an old, red brick building. The school, the youth club and the local Catholic Church were all very closely connected, not only in name but in ethos. Two of the priests from the Church served as mentors to the club and the school allowed the club to have a fortnightly disco in the hall. So Maureen had an extra key for the back door of the school building. Towards the end of the night, at around 9.15, one of the girl members told Maureen that she saw some boys in a classroom of the school. She didn't know how many and she didn't know how they had got in. Actually this had happened several times in the past few months and Maureen was always fearful that any damage caused to a classroom would reflect badly on the club. She called me over and explained the problem, whispering to me that she should really ask Jim, the only male youth worker on duty, to accompany her but she felt he wasn't mature enough. So I offered to go with her and she simply smiled and squeezed my hand by way of accepting. We told nobody because she didn't want to take the chance that someone might warn the boys in the school and we slipped out quietly and separately. It was already dark when we arrived at the back door to the school and let ourselves in. There was no alarm. "We have to be quiet in here. I want to catch them red-handed if possible. OK?" I nodded. Then Maureen slowly and silently turned the key and we were in. We opened another door that led into one of the long corridors and we stayed there awhile, listening for sounds. After about half a minute Maureen turned towards me and pointed in the direction we were going to take. It was actually darker inside than outside so she reached for my hand, which might have been as much for courage as for staying together. I was very conscious of the feel of her cool fingers wrapped around my palm. I didn't want to let go of them. Further down the corridor it became a bit lighter as there were windows that looked onto the playground. Each time we passed a window we crouched down until we came to the end of the corridor which adjoined another corridor at right angles. Here Maureen stopped and squatted, letting go of my hand. While I was momentarily disappointed by this I happened to notice that, while squatting down, her legs had parted slightly and her navy blue dress, which buttoned right down the front, had risen up to display a good six inches of white lace and silk. Whether Maureen was aware of showing so much of her underwear I don't know. But I most definitely was aware. It was a gorgeous sight; a real example of how clothes could be very erotic. I have to admit I was spellbound and my imagination was producing moisture in my own panties. She reached behind her and put her cool hand on my leg. I was wearing a miniskirt with no tights and the feel of her hand on my calf got my attention. As I couched down beside her, close enough to be able to put my arm around her shoulder and feel the bra straps under the cotton of her dress, she changed the position of her hand. I now felt it gently land on top of my thigh. A shiver of excitement coursed through me, like lightning in my veins. She turned towards me and whispered in my ear, "They're in the classroom down this corridor, the second classroom". As she spoke her hand rose an inch higher on my thigh and squeezed slightly. My panties were definitely damp as I swivelled round a bit so that my leg was touching hers. Her fingertips were on the inside of my thigh now. She had still not adjusted her skirt and my view was even better than before. From my new vantage point I could make out the texture of the silk as her slip was stretched between her thighs. "What do you want to do?" I managed to whisper in her ear. Again she turned towards me and, in turning, her hand went up my thigh a little bit more. My clitoris began to react. "Let's just stay here a minute and see if they come out," she whispered. Her lips just brushed my ear. "Here, you have a look round the corner." She then let go of my thigh and held on to my hips gently to stop me falling. I placed one hand on the ground in front of me and the other hand, reflexively, went behind and landed on her leg, just above the knee. Immediately I was conscious of the feel of her soft slip over the fingers on the back of my hand. As my fingers settled on her skin her grip on the bony part of my hips tightened. I was torn between watching the classroom and savouring the moment with Maureen. The cool dampness of my panties was antagonising and so was the straining of my nipples against my tight bra. Then the boys in the classroom ruptured the sensuality of the moment. The three of them appeared in the doorway. Immediately I turned back to Maureen and nodded. Her arm went right around my waist and pulled me towards her. Briefly I thought she was about to kiss me. Our breasts were touching. "How many?" she whispered. I held up three fingers. "Members?" she enquired. I nodded. We both leaned forward to look towards the classroom. Maureen's hands came around my waist and I felt her breasts on my back. As she leant forward her face touched mine. We stayed like that for a full minute until she was satisfied that she could identify the three culprits. At one point one of the boys glanced in our direction and Maureen pulled me tight towards her so as not to be seen.. Not that I was complaining as her leg had come right in between my two legs and I was effectively straddling this beautiful bare limb. Instinctively too, I had put my hand out to steady myself and it came down, high up, on her other thigh. So high up, in fact, that my thumb felt something soft encased in silk. I felt the crinkle of hairs beneath the silk and, at the same time, Maureen's grip on my waist tightened. I let my thumb slide so that it settled over the gusset of her panties and spread my fingers out until they found the lacy hem of her slip. My clitoris spasmed. The boys had begun to move towards the end of their corridor and that signalled the end of our watch. I let go of Maureen's thigh and she let go of my waist and we pulled ourselves upright. Despite the pleasure I had got I looked at Maureen with some sadness. She was adjusting her dress, hiding her gorgeous underwear in the process, and showing no evidence of what had happened. She was back on duty, so to speak. Stepping around me she called out, "Liam, Jim, Edward, we know you were in here. Next time we'll call your parents!" Before she had finished we could hear the sound of footsteps tearing down the corridor and out through a banging door. We looked at each other and smiled. "Keep me company while I lock these doors," she said. And I did. "Did I tell you we're going to have a camping trip in T Forest at the end of the month?" she asked. "No, first I heard," I said. "We need to check it out first, the camp site, and I was wondering ..." she hesitated as she bolted the escape door and closed an open window, "... if you'd like to come with me, give me your opinion and all? I smiled again. I'd love to. Maureen's Slips Ch. 03 Inside the Tent While the first story in this collection was entirely true and the second was partly true, this final story, unfortunately, is pure fiction. An imagined resolution, if you want to call it that! I hope you enjoy it. * Maureen had told me that the two of us were going to the forest to check out the facilities and so on. We would be spending a night at the site and she told me that she had a tent and would, of course, borrow another one if I wanted so that we would have a tent each. I quickly said that if her tent was large enough for two I'd be happy with sharing (wouldn't I just!). I had always loved camping and had spent many summers under canvas in the company of my parents and brother and sister. This time, however, I was to be spending an afternoon and a night with only Maureen for company and that, believe me, was something I was looking forward to. In the last story I related how Maureen and I both waited and watched for three boys who had broken into the local school to show themselves; how Maureen's lacy slip made my panties sodden and how we were so close to each other that my hand ended up over her silk-covered fanny. Once again Maureen had made no mention of these events in the days and nights afterwards. It must be noted, however, that we were not alone together at any time so it would have been difficult to say the least. Nevertheless, the experience had created a necessity to relieve my pent-up desires on several occasions late at night. I mentioned before that in no way did I consider myself a lesbian and I honestly still held that belief. I imagined that I was going through a phrase that so many girls go through at some time or other. In a part-time youth workers' seminar, which I attended at the instigation of Maureen, I learned that this phrase, for want of a better word, was a perfectly natural part of adolescence but definitely not one to be encouraged by youth workers. When I attended the course, before I had any 'nice' feelings about Maureen, I was actually shocked to learn that it was considered natural for a female to sexually desire another female. It goes to show what a sheltered upbringing I'd had. The desire that I had for Maureen, however, I didn't have for any other member of the female species. For around a month then I'd had an on-off boyfriend called Frankie. When I say 'on-off' I mean he worked on the ferries so he wasn't always available and sometimes when he was he would be out with his friends, which was alright with me. He was funny and good company but to say that I really fancied him would be stretching the truth a bit. There was another boy, Fergal, in the youth club who I got on great with. He was a champion flirt and I know that he had the hots for me but, though I really liked him, I felt he was too young and I just felt there was something missing. The way I had come to feel in the presence of Maureen I hadn't felt in the presence of either of them. § "Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow afternoon, Helen?" "No, it's OK, Maureen," I said. "I'll meet you at the club at one." "That's great," she said. "What time will we be back on Thursday? It's just that I have to let my mum know." "Well, we should be home by 10 at the latest." After we hung up I checked the weather forecast for the following day and, with that information, I selected suitable clothing for wearing and for packing in the overnight bag. I'd decided that my denim miniskirt and sleeveless black top would be just the thing for the journey and most of the day. If the forecast was to be believed it was going to be sunny and warm. I also gave a lot of thought to my underwear and selected a matching cream satin set of bra and panties that were the most expensive set of underwear that I owned. As I lay in bed that night my thoughts wanted to direct my hand into my pyjama bottoms. The old cotton panties that I usually wore under my pyjamas were very damp but I realised that heavily stained panties might be hard to explain to my mother when she'd put them in the wash. So my attention-seeking slit would have to wait. § At just after one the next afternoon Maureen arrived in her VW Polo. I'd been waiting for about twenty minutes but I told her I'd just got there. She looked relaxed and very pretty in a summery dress, pale lavender with small white dots. Her legs were bare and she wore sandals. She also smelled of fragrant soap. "All ready?" she asked. "Yes," I replied. "Just the one bag." She lifted the tailgate of the Polo and bent down to make some space for my bag beside the tent and her luggage. The back of her dress rode up a bit as she bent over and I had a quick peek to see if there was a vision of lace and silk or satin underneath. Nothing. But I knew it would be unlike Maureen not to wear a slip under her dress. I just had to be patient. The camp site was in T Forest, about sixty five miles to the south and the journey took about an hour and twenty minutes. She was a careful driver, always with two hands on the steering wheel unless she was changing gear of course. We talked about the club and about the planned camping trip and who was going and who wasn't. Now and then I glanced at her legs but there was still no sign of a slip. Then, about two miles from the site, she pulled over at the entrance to a shop. "We need some tea and other stuff. Are you coming in with me?" After we had bought tea, milk, biscuits, apples and matches we went back to the car. Maureen had the bag of groceries and she twisted round to place the bag on the back seat. That movement caused her dress to get caught under her left thigh, the one nearer to me, and her slip came into view. My eyes opened wide; awestruck by the sexy sight of a good expanse of thigh and a sheer white silk slip with no more than an inch of lace at the hem. The vision lasted all of three seconds at the most but it was a sight that I have never forgotten. When she turned round again she adjusted her dress and off we went. I felt that little feathery tickle between my legs that demonstrated my arousal. After we signed in and paid at the campsite office we drove to our designated spot in one corner of the tent area. There were a number of other tents, of different sizes, but I wouldn't say the field was crowded. We unloaded the two tent and spread it out ready for setting up. She was a good organiser and obviously knew exactly what she was doing; setting out the groundsheet, then the tent and then the pegs for anchoring the tent. The tent had, for some reason or other, a zipped opening at both ends which was unusual but Maureen explained that the tent had come from West Germany and had belonged to her uncle who once cycled around Europe. The final touch in erecting the tent was fixing the height by adjusting the poles at either end. Maureen was at one end and I was at the other; the zipped flaps were open at both ends. As I was locking my pole height I looked through the tent and almost gasped aloud. Maureen's legs were splayed as she squatted down and I could see all the way up, inside her dress and white slip, past her bare thighs to her pink lace panties. "How can this woman not know what she's doing to me?" I thought, just as Maureen stood up and said she was getting the sleeping bags. I had to close my eyes for a second to compose myself. § During the afternoon we made a trip into the nearest village, about a mile and a half away, to see what shops there were (several) and to check if there was a suitable disco (there wasn't). We found the village to be accommodating and suitable for young people who were interested in camping but not drinking and so forth. We had lunch during which we chatted about her uncle and the rest of her family and she asked about mine. We also explored the forest a little and we both changed for that; I wore blue jeans and she wore brown casual trousers. We both wore trainers. The forest was beautiful and we saw rabbits, squirrels, field mice, a heron in the river and a woodpecker. We walked and walked and at one point when we climbed a grassy bank I offered her my hand to pull her up and she held on to it for a while, sliding her fingers in between mine. But, as so often that summer, the weather changed without warning and within minutes the sky became dark and the raindrops began to fall. We found some shelter under a large overhanging branch and, as the rain began to fall more heavily, we were soon unable to avoid getting wet. "We'll have to make a run for it," sighed Maureen. "I think this is going to last for a while." I agreed with her and we left our sheltered spot. Within seconds though we were soaked and we were trying to run as best as possible on the stony path. We could see our tent, through the trees but the path took a long way around. Maureen tugged my arm and pointed through the trees. "Cut through the trees. It's shorter," she breathed hard. We jogged over the slick grass and began navigating our way though the trees. The tent was clearly in view when I heard Maureen fall and cry out. I turned and saw her holding her ankle. She had slipped on a damp mossy patch of ground. "You OK?" "My ankle, oh," she whimpered. "Here, put your arm around my neck," I said as I bent over to help her. I put one arm around her waist and we managed to make it through the trees and back to the tent; albeit totally drenched. Still holding on to her, I bent down and unzipped the flap and we both tumbled inside. I zipped the flap. Maureen was obviously in some discomfort and we were both dripping. So first things first. "Get my towel from my bag, would you!" asked Maureen. I got both hers and mine and we dried our hair until the dripping stopped. "We need to get out of these," she added a moment later. As she began pulling her tee shirt off she stood on her weak ankle and let out another groan of pain. "Here, lie down on the sleeping bag and let me help," I said. I was concerned about her ankle and she must have been too as she complied without further ado. She had removed her tee to reveal her damp pink bra and stiff-from-the-cold nipples which she then covered with the towel. I unlaced her sodden trainers and removed them and her cotton socks. I saw that her ankle was swollen. Next, I went to her belt buckle but immediately she put her hand over mine to stop me. "Maureen, I have to get your trousers off. They're wet through." She thought about this then released her hand. "OK," she nodded. "I feel like an invalid here." I undid her buckle then unzipped her. Maureen lay on top of the bag, her arms resting by her side, and watched me as I slowly pulled her trousers off. She winced with the pain in her foot and I did my level best not to stare at her pink panties which she tried to cover with a hand. "Erm, you'll need to get your undies off too if they're wet." I tried not to look at her when I said that and I hoped my voice didn't betray me. She didn't answer for a moment which made me think I'd gone too far. Then she nodded and said she had a fresh pair in her bag. "Would you mind?" she asked me. "Of course I don't mind," I managed to smile and went to her bag and found a matching set in pale blue satin. She took them from me and said, "You need to change too, Helen. You're still dripping." I took off my tee and trainers and jeans and decided that it was only fair that she could see me the way I'd just seen her. She had managed to change her underwear under the towel and I saw her looking at me while I disrobed. "Oh," she gasped, "your pants are soaked through. Get changed quickly!" "Er, problem, these are the only ones I have with me. I thought it was an overnight stay and I didn't expect to get wet." "Oh, what to do, what to do," she said aloud. The towel had dropped from around her chest and I could see now the lovely satin bra and her hard nipples poking through. Meanwhile I had removed my bra and was towelling myself. When the towel brushed over my erect nipples the effect was felt between my legs. "Well, I have a slip that you could wear until your pants dry out, if you want," she said. "At least it'll cover you." My mouth suddenly went dry and my nipples reacted as though they had ears and just heard what was being offered. "If you don't mind," was about all I could say. She pointed towards her bag and I went and took it out; the same white one I had seen her wearing earlier. I was in heaven. § That night, after the rain had died away and I had gone over to the canteen (in my miniskirt but without underwear) and purchased fish and chips and two hot coffees for us, we lay on top of the sleeping bags chatting. Maureen was wearing a soft pink nylon nightie which came to just above her knees. I had again changed into the slip and asked Maureen how many of them she had at home. Eight was the answer and she told me how she always felt undressed without them. While we were laughing at some joke or other she winced. "Still sore?" "Yes, a little." "Let me have a look," I said, as I positioned myself near her feet. I lifted her foot gently and began to softly massage the ankle. Then I realised I had a jar of Aloe Vera lotion in my bag; something I always used for insect bites and sunburn. "This'll help you," I told her and showed her the jar. I began to massage the lotion onto her ankle as she lay back. I didn't want to get any on her beautiful slip so I raised it until her foot was resting on my thighs. I was able to look upon Maureen as she lay there with her eyes closed. To me she was beautiful and very sexy at that moment; the hem of her nightie about four inches above her knees and her nipples pointing upwards through the satin and nylon. Slowly, and almost without thinking, I began to massage her lower calf and around her foot, in between her toes. She shifted her body slightly. Gently I laid her foot down and began massaging the top of the other one. She stirred. "You know, I've never had a massage." She said that as she leaned back on her elbows and looked me straight in the eye. "No? Do you want one?" I don't honestly know how I managed to speak. She hesitated. "Maybe just the legs for now. They're a bit stiff lying here." "Just the legs it is." I still couldn't believe this was happening. When she lay back she hoisted her nightie up so it was just covering her panties. I gulped and spread the lotion on my hands. By this stage I was becoming seriously wet down below. Slowly I began running my fingers along her calf muscles; not so light as to be ticklish and not so heavy as to be sore. I did each calf in turn and then did both at the same time as I spread her legs so that I was able to kneel in between. I could see the effect I was having on her as her nipples were erect and her fingers twitched each time I moved up her calves. Then I massaged around her knees, over the bone and behind in the hollow, and she emitted a simple groan. I knew that my liquid was seeping into the hem of her slip because it felt wet when it touched my ankles. I desperately wanted to orgasm but I didn't want to break the spell between Maureen and myself at that moment in the tent. Slowly I began to glide my fingers up her thighs, first one and then the other. Her fists were opening and closing now. I pressed my thumbs along the top of the thigh muscle and eased the pressure of my fingers on the outside and inside of her silky-smooth thighs; each time going slightly higher and higher. By the time I got as high as her vee her legs had begun to shake and clench. I could see the satin-covered gusset that was very moist and came to the realisation that this was the effect that I caused; I was spellbound. Finally I slowly, tantalisingly, moved both my hands up along the insides of her thighs until they pressed up against her wet panties. The result was almost instantaneous; she clenched her legs tightly together, trapping my hands, and her hands went up to her face as she moaned aloud. Then her legs spasmed. I tried to move my fingers which only served to increase her spasms. Throughout all this I could feel the warm liquid oozing from her, soaking both the satin and my fingers. A minute or two later she stopped and I took my hands away. I lay down beside her; she was still covering her face. "Was that OK?" I whispered. She turned and looked into my eyes. Now, when I look back upon that night, I think she passed a boundary in her mind because she brought her lips to mine and we kissed, long and hard. And, while we kissed, her fingers found my nipples and teased them then they found their way down my stomach and into the waistband of the slip. She touched my clitoris and my orgasm broke in convulsive waves. My fingers too were sliding over her slippery panties and pushing the material into her until she cried out and came again and again. § In the morning Maureen explained about her feelings and her sense of duty and desire to help youngsters and I listened and knew what she was saying. She kissed me for the last time and whispered, "Thankyou!" A month later I left the club for good. I never intended to forget that night in the tent and I have a memento which I still wear today -- Maureen's slip.