Woman’s Friend Lesbian Erotica Story by Salty Vixen

Yes, I know exactly what you need."

"What?" I looked at Clara, not quite understanding. She'd made that statement right in the middle of our gossip.

"Admit it: you haven't been feeling quite the thing." I looked at her. "A touch moody."

"I suppose so," I admitted.

"What you need is The Lady's Friend."

"What?" As I looked at her she simply smiled. "What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Ah," she said, standing. She went over to her desk and brought back a piece of paper, handing it to me.

It was from a magazine: an advertisement for The Lady's Friend. It pictured a lady smiling and spoke of female problems. But I had no clue what it was promoting. "What is it?" I asked.

"I see," she said as if she'd learned something, about me I supposed. "Trust me: you should order one."

She hadn't said what it is and I wondered at her reluctance. "Do you have one?"

She looked at me hesitantly. "Yes," she finally said.

"Can I see what it is?"

I swear she looked as if she were caught out or something, which wasn't like Clara. "All right," she finally said, almost as if we were engaging in some sort of plot. Then looking around in a shifty sort of way, she said "You better come with me."

Let me tell you I was amused, seeing Clara look a tiny bit put out. Yet I was also curious as to what might have accomplished that improbability and quickly followed her. She led me to her bedroom.

Like the rest of her house, it was neat as a pin. She gave me a smile, then squatting down to the floor, pulled a cardboard box from underneath a dresser. Lifting it, she put it on the bed and sitting next to it, opened it.

I don't know how to describe the thing: it was black metal, oblong shaped with what looked like a handle sticking oddly out one face, and obviously electrical. The Lady's Friend? She held it and smiled.

I must have been showing my ignorance because finally she tried to enlighten me: "You use it on yourself: it's much more convenient than calling the Physician."

"Calling the Physician?"

She gave me a look as if considering what was in my mind. "You really need one of these," she said. "I'll give you the address."

"But what is it?"

She looked at me even longer and I could tell she was deciding what to say, or how much. "You use it on yourself."

"Myself?"

"On your private area."

I stared at her. She looked a bit uncomfortable but I felt even more so. But my curiosity had me: "What does it do?"

"It stimulates. It--solves the problems of your moods."

I still stood there confused. She held the thing for me to see. "It is well worth the price," she said.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," I said.

"Just get one. Try it." Then she looked thoughtful. "Borrow mine: just to try it."

I felt a tinge of fear: the whole business seemed fishy to me though certainly Clara was trustworthy. She spoke again: "I see you're not convinced," she said. "Trust me."

"I--wouldn't know what to do."

"You'll know when you try: you will try, won't you, if I loan it to you?" I guess I just stared at her: I knew I couldn't promise anything as uncomfortable as I felt about the whole thing. Then she looked thoughtful again and said: "Let's try it on you now."

"What?"

"It won't hurt. You have to see how it works." She sounded conspiratorial again and started looking around the room. Then she stood, moving the box away but leaving the thing on the bed. "Lie down," she said.

"What?"

"Come on: I know you won't do this yourself and I'm determined that you give it a try."

"Clara, I don't know..."

"Down you go," she said, almost as if to a child.

I stared at the bed. It seemed all the more suspicious, this idea of hers. She smiled, obviously awaiting my compliance. I wondered again what this entailed. "Don't be afraid," she said.

I almost refused. Clara is my best friend, but not everything for her is for me: she's clearly the more adventurous of the two of us. But I hated to say no to her and she looked like she was not going to let this drop. "Relax," she said when I complied: she obviously saw how tense I was. "Pull up your skirt and your petticoat."

"What?" I'd half known it would be some such thing, yet hearing her say that still gave me a little shock.

"Don't worry, I'll do it over your drawers," she said, "but you have to lift your skirt. All right?"

A part of me couldn't believe I lay there looking up at Clara with that contraption in her hand listening to this. But I obeyed. As soon as she saw that I had, she plugged the thing into a wall outlet. "Now all you have to do is relax: the quicker you relax the better," she said.

"What does it do?"

"You'll find out," she said smiling. Then probably seeing my look of fear she said: "It vibrates. Believe me, it's nothing to worry about." She pulled a chair next to the bed and sat next to me. "Ready?" she asked.

Would I ever be ready for whatever was coming? She must have found some sign of assent in my face though, because after a moment she acted as if I'd answered. "Now it's useful to touch yourself lightly," she said. When I gave her a confused look, she put the item down and said: "Like this."

As I watched, she brought her hands up her body, simply touching from her waist up to her bosom. It was obscene. She smiled as of knowing my thoughts and said: "This is your own concern. It's also good to try to think like a floozy. As if you are possessed by the female animal instinct."

"What?"

"And think about men. You know, muscular laborers working, wearing no shirts."

"Clara!" I couldn't believe the way she was talking.

"Shh," she said, picking up the thing again. Then without further ado, she put it on me and threw a switch.

It shot through me like a painful burn, though after a second I realized it wasn't pain or at least no sort of pain I'd ever experienced. I didn't know what was possessing my body: my heart was beating and I was struggling to breathe. "Don't worry," came Clara's voice. "Touch yourself," she added but I simply lay there, frightened.

None of it went away, the feelings it created in me just grew and grew. I realized Clara was touching me just as she'd touched herself: she'd obviously decided I wasn't going to do it myself. My breathing became heavier and heavier and I knew I was about to pass out.

But I didn't. I can't say I ever remember being so distracted as those moments: awake as I was, I forgot about the thing, I forgot about Clara, I forgot where I was: all I could feel was my own body. Then it was over.

"Don't be afraid," said Clara softly. "Relax."

I was relaxed. I realized there was nothing else I could do, I felt so exhausted. I had a moment to contemplate the fact that this little machine did this to me. Clara looked at me tenderly. I could see by her expression that she wanted to know what I thought of it. I felt I was still catching my breath. "You'll see," she said, "you'll feel much more the thing."

"What..."

I hardly knew what question to ask, I was so amazed. "Amazing, isn't it?" said Clara, reading my thoughts. I finally felt myself calming down. What did it do to me? She leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Sweet Elizabeth," she said as she withdrew. "It's safe to sit up again," she added, seemingly amused at my state. Cautiously I took her suggestion, my senses telling me that I might yet faint.

Once I'd gained the sitting position, she spoke again: "You respond to it quite well," she said. "In fact, I can see that it's time for me...."

She looked sly, conspiratorial again. I marvelled again how this Clara that I saw every day had this part of her life about which I knew nothing. But then aren't we all married? With a secret intimate life with our husbands? "You'll get one now, won't you? The Lady's Friend?"

When she said that, it struck me as a bit evil to own such a thing. "Be careful," she said. "James might notice a difference in you."

"James?"

"In the marriage bed: you might act differently."

I was confused by what she meant but also embarrassed and certainly not going to pursue the topic. "Listen," she said, "I meant it when I said it's time for me. What do you think of--doing it for me?"

"What?"

"What I did for you: hold it. You'll see more of how it works."

I thought of Clara feeling what I'd just felt. Of watching her, though something felt wicked about that. Of being the agent... "All right, let me lie there," she said. Without considering it my assent, I sat and stood stood. but as soon as I did, she immediately lay where I had been. She raised her skirt and smiled at me. She hugged herself, apparently in anticipation. I found myself sitting on the chair where she had sat. "Don't be afraid," she said. "Pick it up."

*      *      *

I watched as she struggled to regain her composure. Watching her go through it had almost been as amazing as feeling it myself. She grinned at me. "Kiss me," she said, and suddenly managed to pull me down into a kiss, mouth to mouth. In shock I felt her lips on mine but in a moment she released me. "We'll do this again, next week," she said. "You don't need to buy one: it's so much better doing it together."

*      *      *

I lie on the bed, naked as the day I was born, in broad daylight. She lies next to me, just as naked, putting the thing in place. "Touch yourself," she whispers in my ear. Obediently, my fingers touch my nipples. "Think of the jungle," she whispers, "of savages having their way with you. You have no choice. You beg for mercy but they don't care."

She's learned them, all the words that affect me most. She turns it on. I know this time I'll faint. She's gotten so she can do that to me every time.

Thoughts go to the future moments when I'll repay her attentions. In truth, the anticipation affects me as much as the little fantasies she spins. She likes it so much when I lean over as I do it, touching my lips to her nipples...