"Clare" - Chapter 6:- Dating Karen - "The Frog and the Thistle” - Sex Stories

"Clare" - Chapter 6:- Dating Karen - "The Frog and the Thistle”

... start asking more questions, which would normally end with me being called a slut, or a whore, or whatever.

“Is Karen your girlfriend? I heard Mum and Dad talking.”

I sighed, but there was something in the way Ella asked that question that made me hesitate from telling my sister to mind her own business, or something worse.

We just stared at each other, and I unexpected feeling enveloped me. My sister was not young any more, despite the messy side of our bedroom; she seemed suddenly more grown up. I took a deep breath and as I did so; I realised Ella was only two months younger than Karen.

I hadn’t thought of that before.

Instead of getting into a verbal fight with my sister, I told her the truth, everything except Brenda. She would have to remain my secret until another day. I even told Ella that David was my boyfriend and remained the only man I was seeing. That he knew about Karen and was okay with it.

My sister just nodded and listened. I didn’t expect her to understand that I was experimenting and trying to understand my sexuality. What sort of relationship worked for me?

Ella and I didn’t have these grown-up conversations. This was new, but perhaps something that needed to happen. It wasn’t my or Ella’s fault that we shared a bedroom, that we didn’t have any privacy. We just needed an understandingand a lock on the bedroom door!

With time getting on, my sister suggested a white blouse and a black lacy bra, to give a hint of what lies ...

... beneath and on my bottom half. Wear matching knickers and a short skirt with comfortable shoes, “as I have great legs.” I took her advice except for the shoes; instead, I chose my favourite black stilettoes.

I thanked her before I left.

It had been another day of firsts, now for the evening with Karen…and maybe that would lead to another first.

*****

Karen must have been waiting for me as she appeared as soon as I pulled up in my mum’s car. Without hesitating, I pulled away swiftly with our only words, a brief mutual, “Hi.”

With neither of us having very much money, I had thought long and hard about where to take Karen tonight. It had to be somewhere I could afford, and then when I walked home from Brenda’s, it came to me in a moment of Michael Jackson-induced inspiration, “The Frog and Thistle.” It was my ex, Alan’s local. A pub he used to regularly take me to, but hardly ever on a weekday.

The Frog and Thistle was located just a few miles to the north of where I live and was an old traditional English country pub and yet it wasn’t; at least not these days. Once inside the old thatched pub, you could be fooled into thinking you were anywhere out in the countryside.

The pub's 15th-century character has changed little over the years.

However, outside the only greenery was the pub-walled beer garden and around it, nothing but the city's ever-expanding urban sprawl. Alan had once told me the city suburbs had swallowed up the Frog and Thistle during the ...