VELVET REVOLUTION

by Stella

Lisa Burton's two kids had argued endlessly where Slovakia was. As so often with her sons, it became a wide ranging argument taking in such diverse topics as the other one was an idiot who knew nothing anyway and was no good at football either. It made Lisa's head spin and she regretted bringing her nine and ten year old sons to the airport to meet Magda's plane. But then, who else was there to look after Danny and Simon? It had been stressful enough taking the afternoon off work as it was without trying to leave the bickering pair with Kate, her sister. Kate had more than a share of problems with her partner Paul and simply couldn't be relied on even when things seemed normal.

It came as a relief to Lisa when her two boys settled into a state of armed neutrality a few minutes before the new home help appeared in Arrivals. The last thing she wanted was the woman to take a look at two squabbling children and head straight to the Departure Lounge and the first plane back to Bratislava.

Lisa however might have missed her. Magda Nvota didn't look anything like her picture, the one the agency had provided. She was thinner, younger and a lot prettier, with short, pale red hair. The English woman found herself staring at this relatively delicate little female without comprehending that Magda was saying: "Hello Ms Burton," several times over.

"Magda?" Lisa blinked as it dawned this was the person she was waiting for.

"Yes, Magda," smiled the young woman. "I am here to look after you," she said.

* * * * * * *

It wasn't, Lisa argued with herself, me who needs looking after. A successful 36 year old high-profile manager, arguably one of the top women in the cut-throat world of finance, she had juggled work and home with seemingly consummate ease since her divorce from Tim four years before. Well, almost with ease.

There had been more than enough times when she felt she was swimming upstream with a weight attached to her legs, times when the two boys drove her to distraction. Times when her sister couldn't or wouldn't look after Danny and Bobby and the stresses of the job got her down. There was always the pressure of another million to be made for the company, another meeting to attend, another potential rival questioning if a "mere woman" could do the job.

She could do it, but she was weary at times.

It had been her sister Kate's idea for Lisa to find a home help. "Au pair" didn't seem the right word for it and she settled on home help, and the agency had provided her with a list of suitable candidates, complete with photograph. The one with the somewhat fat face and the black, lank hair looked – in East European terms – the most ruthlessly efficient. The one to steamroller her argumentative sons into silence if not co-operation. Someone who wouldn't come to London to party all night.

"My sister Liliana," Magda had said as she explained the mismatched photo away. "I thought I looked too, how shall I say, not knowing. No one would want me for being so small. So thin."

Magda did indeed look too small and thin. Barely larger than Lisa's boys, she had a small bust and boyish hips. With her short hair, going without makeup and wearing loose tops and baggy jeans, she might just have passed for a slightly older friend to the two boys. But for all her seeming lack of weight she ruled the boys like she was born to it. They took to her without fuss. If she said do something, they did it. If she said stop doing something else, they stopped.

For the first time in four or five years Lisa was able to give herself more fully to her job than ever before. The contracts came in, the commission rose. Where she was doing well before she was doing even better now. There was talk of a partnership, a bigger share in the company's profits, and she deserved it.

* * * * * * *

It was early one morning, eight months after Magda had started, that Lisa came home to her new life. She had arrived home very late from a business meeting in Glasgow. She was tired but elated and let herself into the house, planning on a few hours well-earned sleep.

She was surprised to see Magda waiting in the kitchen. "I thought you'd be in bed," she said, feeling grateful that the home help had waited up and guilty that the young woman had given up valuable rest time and would have to be up in the morning for the kids. She might have the boys under control but the Slovakian female could never relax in case warfare broke out again.

"I would be, only..." Magda rolled her eyes towards the living room.

"Why what's wrong?" Lisa felt a surge of alarm. Burglars, the boys being ill or worst of all, her ex husband turning up. No, worse than that he would be there with some leggy blonde female in tow.

"Your sister, she arrived earlier. She is drunk, while waiting for you." Magda nodded at the kitchen table. There were two empty wine bottles. Cheap French wine, but no doubt with a kick.

"Is she alright?" Lisa hurried into the living room, followed by Magda.

"Her husband. They had a fight. She has nowhere to sleep, so she is here on the sofa." Magda paused as Lisa peered down at the motionless body of her younger sister, sprawled on the couch, a blanket draped over her. Beside her on the floor was a bucket.

"She been sick?"

"Vomit, yes," said Magda with a slight look of disgust. "Earlier, in my bed."

"In your bed?" Lisa shot a look at Magda.

"I said she could sleep there, better than the sofa. She is family. I said would sleep down here, but she – how is it said – thrown up."

"Threw up," sighed Lisa. "Idiot woman – her, not you, Magda. You were very kind. But she should know not to drink that cheap stuff. Row with Paul or not. We had better get her off this so you can sleep."

"No, I will sleep on the floor. I have known worse in my village." Magda grinned.

"No way! We'll get the boys to double up. They won't mind."

"Please Lisa, do not disturb them. They have school tomorrow. I will be fine. I have blankets and the floor is not so hard I think."

"Magda, you can't sleep on the floor. This is England, not Slovakia. No disrespect but we have a perfectly good bed upstairs."

"All beds are taken," said Magda, puzzled.

"I have a double bed, remember, and providing you don't snore you can share that with me. But no pulling the covers off in the night."

* * * * * * *

It had been some time since Lisa had anyone in her bed. It felt odd having someone next to her – not that she really knew Magda was there as she was so light. It reminded her of when the boys were younger and a bad dream or a thunderstorm sent one or even both scurrying to share the bed.

Magda had come to bed in a loose, large sized tee-shirt that swamped her and hung like an oversized nightshirt. A black tee-shirt with the English words "Velvet Revolution" in dark red, although faded from many washes. For a moment Lisa thought it was some band (briefly getting confused with the 1960s and 70s rock group Velvet Underground) but then realised it was a commemoration of the quiet overthrow of communism in the old Czech republic.

Lisa had stared at the tee-shirt and then blushed. It looked as if she was trying to make out Magda's small breasts under the shirt. "Revolution," said Lisa, looking away. "Good, right?"

"Yes. Good," said Magda back, and climbed in next to Lisa. "Velvet. Smooth, untroubled."

Lisa felt Magda settle next to her though a good twelve inches lay between them and their backs were to each other. Perhaps it was tiredness, or the drama of whatever was happening in Kate's life (and wasn't it always so with her and Paul?) plus the fact her drunk sister was asleep on the sofa downstairs and a concern in itself, but Lisa couldn't relax. She hoped Magda had fallen sleep quickly and eased herself out of bed to go down and check on Kate.

Kate was fast asleep and in no danger of being sick again, so Lisa went and sat in the kitchen, saw a half-filled glass of wine on the table. She sipped it: the booze was revolting but it might help her to relax.

She had been sat downstairs with the largely untouched glass of wine in front of her for a few minutes when Magda appeared at the door in her tee-shirt. "I keep you awake," the Slovak said quietly. "Sharing bed is not a good thing for you?"

"Sharing a bed is fine for me, honestly," smiled Lisa. "I just can't sleep, that's all."

"But you have work tomorrow and need to rest. Come, back to bed." Magda held her delicate, pale hand out. "Try to sleep again."

The sight of the offered hand did something to Lisa's insides. It was a simple gesture, but a gesture of kindness. Lisa in that instant recognised what had been missing from her life for so long: it wasn't that she didn't have love but that there hadn't been any tenderness. She had no doubt her sister Kate and her own parents and indeed her sons loved her, it was just that no one had actually shown any tenderness. Like an offered hand.

Everyone had given Lisa practical, efficient love. Mechanical affections, even in her darkest hours. Things like "I know you can cope" and "We're right behind you." But no one had simply reached out with a tender, open hand. She had armoured herself against all the trials and tribulations of her private life and her job and her isolation for all these years, and now faced with a simple gesture from a relative stranger she simply broke down in tears.

"Oh Lisa," said Magda, putting her arms round her as she sobbed, holding her close.

"I'm sorry," blubbered Lisa, trying to restore her position and dignity and justify all the expectations placed on her broad, capable and strong shoulders. "I can't think what brought this on."

"I know," said Magda, softly, and with her delicate, pale hand she wiped the tears tenderly from the older woman's face, stroking her cheeks.

"No, you can't know," said Lisa with a sigh as she sniffed back more tears. "You can't possibly know."

"I know when I see the need for love," said Magda, not letting go of her employer. She ran her fingertips lightly over Lisa's face, as if wiping away the last of the tears, pressing her soft cheek to Lisa's cheek. But it was more than that and Lisa swallowed, feeling her insides knot.

For a moment as the younger woman lifted her face away, her lips brushed Lisa's face. "See, with love you are strong." Magda whispered.

"Yes please," said Lisa, not making sense but not caring. She couldn't be sure if it was intentional, but the Slovak girl's mouth virtually touched hers and she felt Magda's breath on her lips like a soft sigh. Lisa could have sworn their lips had touched for just a microsecond and she opened her lips a fraction, hoping that....

The moment shattered. "Feel sick," said a disheveled Kate from the doorway. She lurched through the kitchen, towards the sink, heaving as she went.

"Shit," said Lisa standing up. "I should help her."

"No," said Magda firmly. "My job to see to her. You go to bed and wait for me."

"What?" Lisa's jaw dropped. Had this woman really said what she thought she had said? Or was it just Magda's slightly fractured English? But she couldn't ask as Magda had turned away and was taking hold of Kate's shoulders to make sure she was as okay as a drunken woman could be.

Lisa made her way upstairs and got into bed, her heart pounding. She didn't dare think what all this meant. She tried to reason it out though. Sometimes Magda said strange things, like "the fridge is hot," when the thermostat broke last month. Or when Simon had scraped his knee at school Magda said he had "lifted back the leg skin," which sounded a whole lot more frightening than it was.

There were vague noises from downstairs and Lisa wondered if she should get up and see what was happening, but she didn't want to see Kate throwing up. Much less clean it up. Anyway, if she lay still she might be able to fall asleep before Magda came back to bed and in the morning this would be like a dream and no one need mention anything again.

Lisa might have convinced herself of that but Magda appeared at the bedroom doorway, the glow of the landing light silhouetting her. "Kate has stopped. She is sleeping," the young woman said, "but I have her mess on me." With that she peeled her tee-shirt off.

"Oh God," whispered Lisa to herself as the naked, slender Magda climbed into her side of the bed as if all this was perfectly natural. But she didn't lie down, dragging the covers up over her as Lisa might have done. She sat up and started to pull her hair back as if making it into a ponytail.

From where she lay Lisa could see the profile of Magda, and in particular her small, pointed breasts. In their own, innocently shaped way they were mesmerising and Lisa couldn't take her eyes off them.

For her part the Slovakian seemed blissfully unaware she was being stared at and was in no hurry to settle down to sleep. She fussed with her hair and arms up and back, her small bust seeming to disappear even more. She could have been a boy, Lisa thought. Yet Magda's nipples looked hard and prominent and Lisa gave a little gasp as she realised her hand had strayed between her own legs.

"You cannot sleep," said Magda, half-turning to the woman lying next to her. "Your mind is too much questioning."

"I'm sorry?" Lisa said, glad the lack of light would help hide her blush at touching her own sex.

"You are a clever woman. But you think too much. Never act from – how is it said here – your heart, yes?"

"Spontaneous," said Lisa. "You don't think I can do things on the spur of the moment."

Magda nodded and brought her hands down from her hair. "You are careful and consider but you do not open yourself. You sleep in your nightgown, but under it you play."

"What?"

"I know you do. A woman alone has to do it. Unless she has someone to do it for her, a loving touch."

Lisa sat up, feeling hot and trembling a little. "Magda, I don't think we should be discuss–" The objection got no further, the words trapped on her lips by Magda's kiss. But this was no imagined fraction of a second, a gentle breath. This was a full, soul-engaging deep kiss. The kind of kiss only a lover can give.

Lisa melted. She clutched at Magda's naked body, kissing back with her mouth open, her tongue seeking Magda's tongue. She felt Magda undoing the tie ribbon at the top of her nightdress and felt it fall open, the girl's hands slipping the satin off Lisa's shoulders and easing it down, revealing her breasts. Nipples hard and ready to be bitten and sucked and caressed and made harder still.

"Magda, we mustn't," Lisa whispered as she felt the younger woman's hand on her breasts, stroking the smooth flesh and rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger. She had no idea what she was trying to say, and no concept of what they mustn't do.

"Hush," smiled Magda, resuming the kissing, squeezing Lisa's quivering breasts even more. "We must not wake the children, my love. That is all. Everything else we must do."

* * * * * * *

Everything else turned out to be a long night of passion. Lisa opened herself up literally, allowing Magda complete access to every part of her. The girl's fingers and tongue found the places Lisa feared no one would ever touch again.

Magda was a genius with her mouth, clamped over Lisa's aching, wet pussy and extracting every drop of her cum. The Slovak's tongue flickered in and out, her teeth nibbling Lisa's proud, bold clitoris. The girl's face was between the older woman's legs so long that it seemed she was feasting on Lisa's vulva, wanting to kiss the folds of the labia into sublime submission. But Lisa had submitted long ago.

As the dawn light began to edge into the bedroom Magda introduced Lisa, already little more than a climax-exhausted bundle, to the joys of anal sex. Magda pushed her strong and clever tongue into Lisa's rear hole, lapping and probing with an enthusiasm Lisa would never have believed possible. Lisa bit the pillow, not in frustration or fear but because she didn't want to shout out: "Please get it deeper into me!"

She never thought she would climax with someone rimming her bottom, but she did, weeping with joy and pleasure that someone loved her. Loved her so much she would do anything.

They slept afterwards, Magda's thin, pale arm round Lisa, holding her sore but pleasured breasts. They slept late and only the boys, thumping round demanding breakfast and wanting to know why Aunt Kate was snoring on the sofa and what on earth was the source of that smell in the kitchen, brought them round. Silently, with just a kiss on the lips to reassure her, Magda got up and pulled on one of Lisa's robes before going down to attend to the family.

Lisa no longer cared what happened, and drifted back to sleep.

* * * * * * *

"They have all gone, boys to school and Kate in a taxi, gone home," said Magda, perched on the edge of the bed, cup of tea in hand and robe half open. Her small breasts were barely visible, so Lisa peeled back the robe so she could see them and touch them.

"Did we really do all that last night?" she asked, rubbing her fingers lightly over those small, almost white mounds with the large, hard brown nipples.

"We did many things, but most of all we did love."

"Fuck, it was wonderful," sighed Lisa. "I had no idea."

"I said when I came I am here to look after you, and I have done that."

Lisa's eyes shot wide open. "Please, no... don't say you'll leave me!"

"I will not leave you. Not until you find someone better."

"I won't find anyone else," said Lisa. "Not when we do what we do."

"And we will, Lisa love," smiled Magda. "Many times until your slit is sore and your bum-hole satisfied," she laughed. "Now drink your tea. I have telephoned your office, said you are unwell. They have given you the day off, and are pleased with your work yesterday."

"God, you are a treasure," sighed Lisa, easing herself up and taking the tea. "Tell me, is Kate okay? You said a taxi."

"Kate has gone home to Paul, to sort out their life."

"Good. She needs to. Hell, if she knew what it was like to have a woman like you she would. Double quick."

"Yes, she would." Magda nodded, stood and dropped the robe off her shoulders, letting her slender body be seen in the morning light. Seen and admired. She grew wet between her legs – not only at what she was about to do with Lisa, all day if needed, but also because she remembered what she did downstairs last night. When Kate had fallen asleep, face down on the sofa, Magda had carefully licked her cute rear passage. The velvet tunnel she loved so much. Kate would of course think it was only a dream, but after that Paul would never be good enough. In time Kate would leave Paul, wanting a woman. With care and a little Slovakian planning, Magda would get two females.

She smiled to herself. It would be no problem. This double bed of Lisa's was big enough for three.

* * * * * * *

Velvet Revolution. Copyright � 2007 Stella Engle. Return to Stories List