I grew up on a 1,000 acre ranch in California, and when I was 18 was attending a private high school. My friend Amy lived only 1/4 mile from Harrelson Prep which we attended. We loved Harrelson. I had to commute about an hour every day so often I spent the night in town at Amys. Her parents were hardly ever at home because they both worked and had jobs with a lot of responsibility. Often I would have Amy stay at the ranch on weekends. Her mother Ann had no other children and didnt seem to mind an extra person being around. Ann, 40ish, was a chemistry instructor at Harrelson, pretty, built, could compete with any co-ed for male companionship. She had a seductive way of touching you and welcoming you into the house. Her eyes surveyed you. Her hypnotic smile hid whatever was really on her mind. Amy’s Dad was a loan officer at Valley National Bank and very handsome. I became fond of Ann as well as Amy. The mature older woman was quite forward. She told me she regretted not having had one more child. She always insisted on a hug and sometimes a kiss from me either upon entering or leaving. She lavished attention on Amy’s friends when they were around. I spent many happy hours with Amy. Neither of us had dated much in high school--too busy with activities and studies. We liked to explore. We tried marijuana twice at parties. It was OK but I prefered not to use regularly--it made me forgetful. We had slumber parties when Amy would invite me and 2 or 3 other girls to stay over. We imagined this to be what dorm life would be like if we ever lived in one. Once a girl showed some sexy pictures and read some naughty stories from a Playboy, all stuff she had found under her big brothers bed. That was a boost to conversation. Everyone was giggling and bright eyed. Amy and I shared secrets. She told me about the rough bare-bottomed spankings her father gave her til she was 13. Til she started high school, her mother still took her temperature rectally. A frustrated nurse, Ann had an elaborate method of greasing Amy up. She stood behind Amy who would be lying on the bed, facing away, knees drawn up---and pushed as much KY up Amys butt as she could with her finger. Sometimes she used exam gloves. As Amy got older, she occasionally felt the beginnings of orgasm during this proceedure. Unsure what it was, she hoped her mother wouldnt notice. Amy couldnt help it! Amy wasnt the one that insisted on having this procedure! She just surrendered to the good feelings wondering what it might lead to and endured the older womans attack on her anatomy as best she could. Once when Amy was 13, Ann was standing behind Amy lubing her up when Amy became hysterical, shouting “if you dont .....stop....if you....dont stop, Im going...Im going to...”. “What are you going to do?” asked her mother Ann. “What are you going to do if I dont stop?” she asked again. Amy thought carefully and then on the verge of tears whimpered “Im going to come if you dont stop! ”. Again, frightened of being punished for something she couldnt help. In a tone meant to sooth, the older woman looked at her very analytically and said, “Why dont you just go ahead and do that if you need to Honey? You just take care of that right now.” Frightened little Amy said,”Are you sure its ok?”. Mother heartily replied, “Go ahead its alright.... just enjoy the feeling.” Ann, resumed the lube job on Amys rectum, rubbing the KY into Amy with the same pressure and circular motions she used when applying hand lotion to herself. Just using the one finger, mostly right behind the younger womans uterus. Suddently the climax built to a crescendo, and she let loose with little shuddering movements that went on for about a minute while weeping with pleasure. “Im sorry Mom”, whispered Amy afterward. as a look of repentence crossed her face. “No problem, Im not angry, Darling”, said Ann in a soft reassuring voice. Then she smiled, patted the hip of the young woman who was her nearly-ready-for-college daughter, and inserted the rectal thermometer. Soon she brought in the red enema bag that she had fixed for Amy’s therapy. It was the very last time Amy had her temperature taken this way by the older woman. Once Amy and I got into a discussion of my early youth, and it was comparable, except my mother stopped assaulting me with rectal thermometers when I was 5 or 6. I can still remember her holding me in her lap, rubbing my back and arms and legs while the thermometer hung out my bottom. I was always afraid of it falling out, because then she would have to push it back in and I was afraid it would hurt. It usually didnt, unless she didnt use enough KY jelly. So often, she would massage me for awhile, and then put her hand across my soft bottom to hold the thermometer in place. All the while hugging me tight. Once when we were high on beer, Amy told me that part of her masturbation routine included pushing things deeply up her rear end like vibrators, and candles, as she got a bigger orgasm. Sometimes only her rectal muscles orgasmed. The summer of our graduation, Doug came into the picture, sweeping me off my feet. He was mostly agreeable. When he didnt agree, he knew how to disagree politely. I love this quality in a person. It makes me less shy about expressing my thoughts. If Doug didnt agree with my stance on, Vietnam for example, he would say, “Lyn I know youre pretty commited to that view point, but here’s what I think about it.” And he would politely go on to give his thoughtful view on the topic. Doug and I managed to attend a few formal events which I enjoyed because I had an excuse to get dressed up in formal wear. Our favorite past time was sitting at a coffee house and chatting with friends.Doug was a checker and bagger in a supermarket and this took up very little of his time everyday. He was usually off weekends . Back in those days people didnt hop into bed with just anybody,not even their sweetheart, without thinking about it carefully. Sex was not high on our list of things to do. Mostly all we did was neck in the car on deserted roads, and feel each other up til the windows were fogged. I loved it when he would sneak his fingers into my panties and excite me. One day during final exams, I was bushed, I saw Ann leaving her Algebra class to grade exam papers in the faculty office building. She said I looked flushed and that I should nap over at their place until I felt good enough to drive home. My family was away on vacation so I wasnt looking forward to being home alone. I walked on over to my friends house. Doug was working and Amy was visiting the ski slopes. I ended up alone in the house with Ann. It wasnt long before she made her first move on me.......... I lay on Amys guest bed and proof read a term paper due Monday. Ann came in with a beverage and asked me if I’d like one. She placed her hand on my forehead. Funny, but I didnt feel like I had a fever. I was already rested up from the long day, having had my nap, and almost ready to drive to the ranch. I was a little high from the beer. Ann gave me another one, this time in the bottle, then a 3rd one for us both. We chatted freely, punctuating our conversation with a laugh here and there. “I know just what to do.” And with that she reached up under my skirt and yanked my panties down in one swift movement. I was so shocked I didnt have time to say STOP . Next thing I knew, she was asking me to turn on my side. She was holding up a pre-lubricated # thermometer--menacingly. Poking around for the opening, soon it was winding its squishy way up my bottom. I was woozy, but It felt good. I was too wasted to find it embarrassing . I turned and looked at her glowing face. “Dont worry Darling, its the best way,” the older woman reassured me. I wanted to say, “thats what they always say before they shove something up my ass.” My skirt was hiked up in back to accomodate her hand which was holding the thermometer in place. She covered me with a lap robe for modesty. Sometimes she let go of the cold glass tube and just stood there staring at me from the front. I felt a jolt of horror as she pulled the window shades down and left me in this position in a dimly lit room. I couldnt imagine what she had in mind. I wished for Doug or Amy to rescue me. Amys Dad was away at a banking conference, no chance of him saving my honor. My mind fixated on the memory of Doug and his hand feeling me up real good down there. In my reverie I could almost feel his lips on mine, and I felt a stirring in my heart, a stirring in my loins. She was making the thermometer go in and out, that was making me horny. The beer made it hard for me to put an end to something that (I realized in my inebriated state) had turned into sex play with another woman. Now the thermometer was removed and I felt her warm fingers on my nipples, my breasts, in my panty area, between my genital lips--the labia, flicking my clitorus--very busy & determined. She put me on my back, legs splayed wide, and had me scoot to the edge of the bed. Using her thumbs to pry apart my labia, her careful talented tongue pleasured my clit. I moaned and cried restrainedly, never having had oral sex before. She knew exactly what a woman would like. She knew me. The glass tube was replaced by her talented index finger. She rubbed me expertly right behind the uterus. Both of her hands were busy simultaneously. The index finger of the other hand worked up in my vagina.I could see a leer of selfish satisfaction on her face. She was turned on by it all, she seemed to also enjoy pleasuring me for my sake. Finally I was confident she was not going to get into any bondage, S&M, or love making techniques involving pain! “Stop...if you dont...stop.....I’ll,..... If you dont stop...I’m going to...” “Your going to what?” Asked Ann who was in total control of my emotions now. “What are you going to do if I dont stop?” # I felt only half awake, but I was ashamed to say it, but I finally said it-- “Im going to cum if you dont stop.” I knew what I wanted to say but I could hardly get the words out--too embarrased to have an orgasm in front of this older woman who was my friend. I guess this was another dimension of her love for taking care of people. A bit extreme. I had let it go too far. I should have said something earlier. Now I wanted to see what she was going to do next. What was going to happen. What I would do. “Why dont you let yourself come, Darling, you’ll feel better. Its alright, I dont mind. Come on and do what you need to do.” I threw caution to the wind and enjoyed this situation I found myself in. My climax was building. Having surrendered to her, I couldnt stop my orgasm now. After shuddering, I cried tears and more tears of release. I had only had tiny orgasms with Doug, because our coming together had been minimal. At last my desire for full intercourse with him had piqued as a result of this older woman, my friend Ann. How would I deal with the knowledge of this in the days to come? Could I keep it to myself? Relaxing in the afterglow, Ann massaged my legs and arms and back. Though she never stripped completely, her top was off, and I could see and touch her white bra on her trim smooth body in the dim light. She held me to her bosom, I didnt know what to make of it. I nuzzled my face there. I licked her chest, wishing on some primal level to taste her nipples and suck. She reassured me with pats, hugs, rubbing, touching my hair. Had I regressed? Was I a lesbian now? Oh God, had I sunk low, I wondered. She smoothed my hair, put on her blouse, and said she was going back to the office to work on term papers and grade exams. She made no reference to what had just happened. Said that I should not drive home if I was too sleepy. About 2 hours later I woke up, got a cup of coffee in the kitchen, collected my things, and began the drive to the ranch. I was on the road home with a deeply felt sense of satisfaction, elation, wonder, and a matter-of-fact feeling that sometimes “shit happens”. Would I allow anything like this to happen to me again? Probably. Would I give up Doug for these experiences? Doubtful.