"OH WOW!" she gushed and immediately walked forward and hugged Cherry ina tight embrace. She let go after a few seconds and stood back. "How doyou fee...?" she asked.Cherry shrugged her shoulders, not comfortable with vocalising how sheactually felt. She diverted the question "I...I had a little trouble witha couple of things," she said."Oh, do tell." I can't reach the zip on the dress properly and the back garters weretoo fiddly," she felt foolish, silly that a grown woman could not manageto. So you don't wind up fondling unsuspecting women in their sleep?" I was happy that the tension had come down a notch. Maybe some frank talk would defuse a potentially explosive situation. “Uh, well, there isn’t exactly a lot of privacy around here,” he said, red-faced. “I mean, it’s not the same as girls fingering themselves. Things get kind of… messy.” I laughed at this. “So you’re an expert on female masturbation, huh?” Common sense, moral fiber, matrimonial loyalty, something should have. Only the names of the characters have been changed to protect the less than innocent. As I walked along a dark, wet street in the blustery Royal City of Edinburgh I could not help thinking how fortunate I was. It was early 1987 and I was a twenty three year old postgraduate student at the University of Edinburgh with good financial backing and a bright future. As an overseas student from the ‘colonies’ I was something of a fish out of water near the Firth of Forth, but a little diplomacy and my. To rub here ... to stroke there ... to hear what was undeniably sounds of joy issue from her lips.What I’m saying is that it snuck up on me, somehow, and it didn’t feel wrong at all! It just felt like love.Her first orgasm, as my fingers frantically massaged flesh I had only caught glimpses of before, was probably as good for me as it was for her. It seemed like the sensations coming from my lips, still sucking her nipples, were given voice in her throat. Knowing that I was responsible for her.