In response, I hoisted my skirt up to my hips and thrust my pelvis forward, legs spread slightly apart. The delectable blonde’s hand almost instantly slipped inside my panties to feel me for a while, until with one hand I pulled the gusset aside to expose my cunt, spreading my legs still wider. Her fingers stroked me again, rippling teasingly along my slit.

‘Are you a virgin?’ she asked. I replied that it was OK, she could go ahead – I had seen to that myself (although, in truth, this had not been by calculation: I knew where my mother kept her vibrator, which I used on myself when alone in the house for an evening, but a few weeks before I had got carried away and thrust it in too hard, breaking my own hymen).

The blonde woman dropped to her haunches, bringing her face level with my cunt. Using two fingers, she spread my labia apart and prised open the pink treasure hole between, and her mouth fastened onto my pussy. After a moment, her tongue moved up to the top of my slit, searching under the clitoral hood for the sweet nub itself; in its place, two fingers were pushed deep into my vagina and began pumping in and out.

Whilst she was doing this, she tucked her own skirt around her hips and thrust her unoccupied hand between her legs, pulling aside her panties and frigging herself even faster and more roughly than she was doing to me. We both began to breathe raggedly, to gasp quietly and to start to shudder, building our way to a climax – of what would be, for me, my first orgasm from the ministrations of another lesbian, which I considered to be my true loss of virginity.

At that moment, utterly without warning, the fitting-room door was whisked open (Jesus Christ – hadn’t she locked it?!), and our making-out session was interrupted by the uniformed female store security guard. Her body loomed over the crouching blonde, one hand descending to grip her shoulder. As I stared this astonishing apparition in the face, I emitted a strangled high-pitched shriek – partly of horror at being discovered and exposed, with all the consequences which would flow from that with family, friends and school, and partly of desperate frustration. No, no! – the cup (or rather, cunt) could not be dashed from my lips in this way, it just wasn’t fair! I was on the point of bursting into tears, when I noticed two unexpected things: the security officer was smiling at me, with hungry desire in her eyes, and the woman eating my pussy seemed to be not in the slightest bit surprised or alarmed at this intrusion into our impromptu love-nest.

The guard gave me a wicked grin, and said: ‘I see you’ve met my bitch, then?’ She gave a firm and possessive caress to the top of the blonde woman’s head, fortunately not interrupting the slurping of the latter’s tongue in my vagina and the mounting bursts of wild sensation that were coursing through me in response.

‘Or, rather, she’s met you, pretty titties, hasn’t she?’ And to my delight, the uniformed guard pulled the booth’s door closed behind her – and locked it (yes!). She reached forward and stroked my breasts, taking one of my stiff nipples between her first and second fingers, and squeezing it firmly. The effect sent a new wave of arousal which somehow amplified those radiating from my cunt.

I stared at the security guard, open-mouthed until she leaned closer and kissed me, her warm tongue pushing between my lips and sweeping around my gums like a cavalry charge. She was a handsome woman in her early thirties, a little taller than her companion. Her mid-brown hair fell from a centre parting in a straight cut that was attractively shaped to frame her face, longer at the front of her neck than at the back. Her warm brown eyes were highlighted by dark make-up, and her full lips were accentuated by a rose pink lipstick which contrasted well with the faint olive tone to her skin – a hint of something Mediterranean, perhaps French or Italian, in her ancestry. Her uniform added to her authority and charisma; she was outfitted in black boots, a fairly short and tight black skirt, a shirt in light brown or khaki, with a contrasting dark brown tie and uniform cap.

The guard’s hands did not falter in their fondling of my breasts, whilst the blonde woman – her lover, I now understood – increased the tempo of her pussy-munching. Under the combined attentions of the two women (Oh, wonderful, how could I be so lucky! I thought), I soon recovered my nerve, and my body began again to enter the throes of sexual climax. I was less audible now, because the uniformed guard had her mouth mashed against mine, French kissing me vigorously. She had one of my breasts in each hand, stroking, squeezing and teasing by rubbing the palms of her hands across them and then trapping the tit between two fingers and pulling on it. Down below, the blonde was still giving me the full benefit of her skills with her mouth and one hand (and she was clearly a practiced pussy-eater), whilst shafting her own cunt with her other hand. My own hands were splayed out against the wall on either side of me, partly to steady myself lest the fireworks exploding in my body and brain should cause me to faint, and partly to brace myself and push my pelvis outwards so that the blonde woman could get at more of my pussy.

The sensations mounted like a ride on a jerky escalator, but always heading to the top. At last, I reached the crest and plunged over, stunned by the explosive pleasure of my first-ever full orgasm. Tears were streaming down my cheeks – tears of release and relief, tears of delight and joy. The uniformed guard produced a tissue from somewhere, and with gentle solicitude wiped my eyes dry, murmuring ‘there, there, baby doll, you’re just fine now’. Her partner gave me some last licks on the cunt, lapping up my juices, and then rose to her feet and kissed her lover, who drew my taste into her mouth, savouring it. I noticed the two women briefly exchange a glance and a nod.