The Journey, Part 3

by Joanne

Our journey to Cornwall has been a revelation. A train journey that I wished could have been longer, a lot longer. I had left behind the old life as wife of a bully with the only valuable thing he ever gave me, my daughter.

Stacy, my ten year old has been awakened to a full lesbian sex life by a game of commando, going without panties for the whole of the train journey. We have experienced the joys, that the game brings, together. Her awakening has been my awakening

We have been travelling to meet my long lost sister Julie. Julie has always been the lesbian of the family the subject of male humour. At least that was what I always thought. On this journey though, I have discovered that I am a lot like my sister. I have been bullied into living a straight life with the man that got me drunk and fucked me, very badly I may say. How he got me pregnant god only knows.

We met with a wonderful fat woman on the train who gave me my first full blown lesbian fucking. It was wonderful and now there is no going back. I was even more excited and desperate to meet my sister Julie than ever before.

We have been joined by other passengers since our sex romp and we have had to become the picture of innocence, sitting all prim and proper like a scene from a costume drama. Not a moment too soon the train rolled into our station. Stacy forgot herself and jumped up and pressed her nose to the door window. I was a slit second behind her to cover her naked bum.

She had the door open before the train finally came to a rest. She jumped down onto the platform. Her dress billowed out like a parachute and showed her pussy to anyone looking. She stopped dead in her tracks. “Mummy,” she said and was looking up the platform with her mouth open. I followed her gaze and there was Julie. Suddenly and without warning I wanted to cry.

Stacy looked first at me then at Julie and back again with her mouth wide open. There was the same build the same shoulder length silky black hair, the same expression with the same broad smile and the same tears running down her face. The only different was two years and a suntan.

“Oh, I see you have already met,” she said. I turned to follow her gaze. It was the woman from the train. The woman was grinning from ear to ear. “This is Margaret, my ex teacher and my life partner.” You could have pushed over. I stood there looking very stupid with my mouth wide open. “Call me Maggie,” she said, “I’m sorry but you are so like Julie I knew at once who you were. And when the little one tried to shock me, it could have been Julie all those years ago.”

Julie broke the silence, “You must be the lovely Stacy,” she said. She crouched down to hug her. Crouched down she was smaller than Stacy. As she hugged her she slipped a hand up her skirt and caressed her bottom. “Cheeky,” she said, “What a lovely bottom.” Stacy leaned forward and kissed her hard on the lips. “You are very like mummy” she said. “In more ways than one it seems. I know my Maggie.” Maggie had an expression of pure innocence.

We all piled into Julie’s Jeep and she took off like a cat out of hell. I was enjoying the wind up my skirt. “Drop me and the little one at the beach,” Maggie called above the noise of the engine. “Would you like to see the beach?” she asked Stacy. Your mummy and Aunty need some time together.” Stacy was grinning and nodding enthusiastically.

Julie stopped at the harbour and the two of them jumped down with a flash of smooth bum. Julie then took off again. She only had two speeds, fast and bloody fast. In less than a hundred yards her screeched to a halt. “We are here,” she called. We were parked against a blank, featureless white wall. Across the road was a similar wall but with an archway in it guarded by a strong iron gate. She took me by the hand. “This is my homestead.” She opened the gate and led the way into the narrow alleyway that led to a high walled secluded garden. It was beautiful with a trellis up one wall. There were plants and flowers surrounding the lawn in a profusion of colour. “Maggie is the gardener,” she said.

I wasn’t looking at the flowers. I was looking at her. It was like looking into a magic mirror. “Look at you,” I said. I held each of her hands and looked at her. “You are lovely sis,” I said. She reached up and touched me gently on the cheek. I did the same. I reached across with my thumb to wipe away a tear and suddenly became aware of the tears running down my own face. She took gentle hold of my head and kissed my tenderly on the lips. My soul melted and my lips parted.

I melted into her as she melted into me. I wanted to kiss every inch of her and never let her go. She pulled off my top and kissed my neck and my shoulders and she gently caressed my breast with their rigid nipples yearning for her touch. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with a passionate desperation I had never known. I ripped the flimsy dress she was wearing off her and devoured her breasts. She wiggled out of the French knickers that were the only thing she was still wearing as I wriggled out of my skirt. We were kissing. Probing each other’s mouths as we sank slowly to the warm grass of the lawn where we made up for all the lost years. We rolled over together on the warm grass, feeling, probing, kissing, and exploring every inch of each other. We made love in such a gentle, caring way that I sobbed all though it.