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By *RTHURXXL OP Man 24 weeks ago
Carmarthenshire |
Hi All,As not many women post about their lesbian experience, I though I will send on behalf of someone as I was asked to.
This is a story of a lady I know... yet it is true story but I added some of my Male inagination to it. I hope you enjoy. ..
............
This isn't my usual account.
You can call me Laura. That's not my real name. None of the names following will be real. Here is what is real. I'm 29 years old, married, and just had a child.
I'm 5'6, blond hair, gray eyes. Some people say I'm pretty, but I don't believe them.
A few months ago during my second trimester my hormones were out of control. That's not an excuse, it's just context. My husband and I weren't having sex a whole lot. We have had a few miscarriages and we've both been especially scared of doing anything to harm this pregnancy. My hormones had me especially wanting at this particular stage.
Anyway, I was working at a bank at the time. Work was difficult, being on my feet all day and carrying this bump around with me. You'd think we'd be paid extra for doing two things at the same time -- creating life and balancing the drawer. But I digress.
It started quietly. I'd notice the soft curve of a woman's smile and realize I'd been staring. I'd catch a whiff of perfume and follow it across the room like a cartoon character in a pie commercial. I'd meet someone's eyes and hold them too long, until I felt heat climb my neck. At first, I wrote it off as pregnancy hormones -- I'm sure this happens to plenty of women.
Around then I joined an online forum, curious if anyone else had gone through this. My post didn't last long. A handful of "me too"s were drowned out by hateful DMs and comments. I deleted it. I told myself I was straight. But if that was true, what was this?
As the weeks passed, the daydreams got worse. I'd imagine what it would feel like to kiss certain women. I developed an embarrassingly intense fixation on Anna Kendrick. I even rewatched the Twilight movies just for her scenes. Sorry -- back to the story. One day a customer placed her hand on mine while telling me about her pregnancies. My heart tried to escape through my ribcage. I wanted to vault the counter and undress her right there. (I didn't. Obviously. But it scared me how badly I wanted to.)
I kept pushing it down. Pretending it wasn't happening. This wasn't normal. Was it?
I drifted to other corners of an online forum, like maybe I could "reset" myself by looking at men. That was a bust. Pedro Pascal was the only exception... but even my husband loves him, so I'm not sure he counts.
I gave birth and was in so much pain that anything getting near me set me off. I figured I was done with all that. The desires were gone... or so I told myself. Margot Robbie still wandered into my dreams now and then, but she wasn't trying anything anymore. Hooray! I was straight... for at least two weeks.
My husband only got two weeks of parental leave. Part of me was jealous, but mostly I was exhausted. Nobody tells you how much work it is to feed, change, bathe, and generally keep these tiny, squishy creatures alive. The first day he went back to work, I found myself scrolling an online forum again. I don't know how -- okay, maybe I do -- but I ended up reading every post I could find in a personal ads forum. The way women flirted with each other... it was electric. I told myself I could stop anytime. But "anytime" turned into the next post, and the next, until hours had passed and I'd missed my nap.
The second day, I found her. Sarah. She was in my city. She was about my age. She wrote with such a playful, engaging voice that I couldn't help but be drawn in. I must have drafted fifteen different DMs. I kept deleting them, closing the app, reopening it, rewriting, rereading, deleting, and repeating. I even deleted the app from my phone once. That lasted two minutes.
The one I finally sent was so bad I immediately wanted to delete my entire account.
I wish I could say I played it cool. For the next three hours I jumped at every notification. Every single one disappointed me. I wish I could say I thought about my husband, about how this might affect him. I didn't.
Finally... a response. My heart caught in my throat. My hands shook as I opened it:
Well hello!
You don't have to be so nervous. I don't bite... unless you want me to. 😉 I have to admit, I loved your DM -- it was adorable. Normally I don't respond to people with no real an online forum history, but there was something about your message that drew me in.
It's okay that you've never dated a woman before. We can just chat, no pressure. I'd enjoy getting to know you. Are you from here? If not, what brought you here? Favorite food? Do you like to read?
I'm Sarah, by the way. Lovely to meet you, Laura.
My heart skipped. I knew I was in trouble, but I couldn't stop. I wrote back immediately.
We DM'd the rest of the day... safe topics, nothing risky.. but she was fun, warm, disarmingly kind. I didn't want to stop. Still, my husband would be home soon.
The next eighteen hours were excruciating. Every buzz of my phone flipped my stomach. I knew I was spiraling, but I couldn't stop.
By morning, I'd made a decision: I'd tell Sarah the truth.
As soon as I heard my husband's car down the street, my phone was in hand, typing out the message I'd rehearsed all night:
Dear Sarah,
I really appreciate you chatting with me yesterday. It means more than I can say. I've been feeling unlovable and undesirable for a long time. But... I left out something important.
I'm married to a man. And I just had a baby. That's why I'm free to message all day and disappear at night.
I'm sorry for this lie of omission. I understand if you hate me. I kinda hate me too right now.
You're wonderful. I enjoyed our conversation so much. I could see your smile over the internet, and I felt your warmth in every word. I feel like I used you to find something I was missing. Again, I'm sorry.
Sincerely,
Laura
I was free. Well, okay maybe not. But at least the anxiety of being caught in a lie was lessened. I still jumped at every notification, but the urgency had lessened. I didn't expect her to reply. But she did.
Two days after I sent the message I finally got a reply. I didn't expect one, but I wanted one. Again with shaky hands, I opened it, in the bathroom where I could have some privacy.
Laura,
I honestly don't know how to respond... or even why I am responding. I can't say I wasn't hurt. For the first time in a long while, I felt a spark -- something I'd almost forgotten how to feel. I think you felt it too.
There's chemistry here. A pull. I don't want to be the reason someone's marriage falls apart. I also don't want to put you in a position you'll regret...
But, God, I can't stop thinking about you. I haven't seen your face, not even a picture, and still... the very thought of you gives me butterflies. Do you feel that too?
Maybe we can just... be friends? Would that be enough? I don't want to pretend I don't want you in my life.
I'll look forward to your reply. Even if it takes days.
- Sarah
I read her message three times. The first time, my brain short-circuited at butterflies. The second time, I caught the part about not wanting to be a home wrecker. The third time, my heart started pounding in my ears, because all I could think was:
She feels it too.
I should have closed an online forum right there. I should have deleted her DM, blocked her, maybe even thrown my phone into the baby's diaper pail for good measure. But instead, I just sat there on the cold edge of the bathtub, staring at the words Do you feel that too? like they were some kind of spell.
Friends. That's safe, right? Friends don't ruin marriages. Friends don't sneak around. Friends don't make your stomach flip when they type your name.
I typed out a reply. Deleted it. Typed another. Deleted that one too. It was pathetic how much I cared about getting it right. I finally settled on something short and harmless, or at least that's what I told myself.
Yes. I feel it too.
I finally rejoined my family feeling a bit lighter, but also feeling that pit of guilt in my stomach. A friend that I probably wouldn't tell my husband about. I knew that was a problem because that's not really a "friend".
We didn't correspond for a few days. Okay it was 2. It was the weekend and I wasn't going to spend it in the bathroom making my family think there were issues.
My mother in law was coming out this week on Tuesday. So Monday was for chatting. Again the phone was in hand as soon as my husband was out the door. There had been no response to my short one. I figured that Sarah was giving me space. I loved that. I wrote a lengthy response basically breaking down my life story. I hoped that I wasn't trauma dumping, but I probably was. I even sent a link to a selfie I took just for her that morning.
The response was not immediate, I mean give her time to read, Laura. It did come shortly after, though.
Oh my gawd, girl, you are gorgeous! I'll get to my responses to your story, but right now can I gush about this pic? Your hair, your eyes, those lips... They are a perfect combination. Did you put on make up just for me? That smile... ooof, girl, I'm melting. I'd love to see the rest of you too, but for now this will be my light in the darkness.
She went on to react to my story and offer her own. We'd been through similar circumstances. She was a bartender, and worked evenings. She also sent a picture in reply. She had long dark hair. It was wavy in a way I'd long desired to see on myself. She had green eyes that saw me through my phone screen. Full lips that looked very kissable. She looked real, and beautiful.
We chatted more and decided to move off an online forum to a messaging app. It felt... dangerous.
Not in the Dateline kind of way. Dangerous in the I can't take this back kind of way.
When Sarah suggested we move to a private messaging app, my first instinct was to say no. No because it was too personal. No, because my husband knew the password to my an online forum, but not my phone's lock screen. No because it felt like crossing a line that you couldn't chalk up to just talking online.
But of course, I said yes. I also added that I wouldn't be leaking war plans to her.
And suddenly, there she was in my contacts list, like any other friend. Except she wasn't any other friend. She was Sarah with the green eyes and the voice notes that made my stomach flutter like I was seventeen again.
Looking back, I think that was the moment I knew I was in trouble.
Sarah messaged first:
Sarah: Hey there, gorgeous momma! 😘
Me: Hey yourself, green eyes! 😍
Sarah: They're only for you! 😉
Me: Good. ❤️🔥💘💋
Sarah: How's the baby?
Me: Great! Sleeping again. I wish I could sleep that much. I can't really sleep without someone beside me these days.
Sarah: Really? That must be tough. I'm more than happy to apply for that position.
Me: I may let you. 😁
Sarah: Is this okay? That we're texting, I mean?
Me: Yeah, why wouldn't it be?
(I knew why. I just didn't want to think about it.)
Sarah: Okay, just checking. So... you said your mother-in-law is coming to town? Tell me about her.
We kept texting for the rest of the day--about life, about what we wanted, the kind of conversations that feel easy until you realize how deep you've gone.
Me: Hubby's gonna be home soon, I better go. Thank you for today. You make me feel alive. 🥰😍😘💋
Sarah: No, thank you. I've never had a friend like you. I have to admit... I'm feeling strongly towards you. Goodnight, my gorgeous momma. 💓😘😘😘
Over the next week, we didn't text as much--family was in town, life was loud. Just quick hits: "Hey, thinking about you, green eyes," or "Hope your day's as gorgeous as you, momma."
It went on like that through the parade of relatives passing through, each visit buying me a little more time to pretend I wasn't in trouble.
Then came this week. Thursday, she asked if I wanted to get coffee tomorrow. My sister was visiting, so I asked her to watch the baby. I told Sarah I'd love to.
I shouldn't have said yes. I shouldn't have gone.
I got to the coffee shop early. Too early. The nervous energy had me checking the door every thirty seconds. I'd made sure to pump before leaving, so I could drink my coffee without worry--but it still made me jittery. Or maybe that was just knowing why I was here.
Sarah arrived five minutes ahead of schedule, moving with a calm confidence that made my pulse jump. She wore yoga pants and a fitted sporty tee, like she had nothing to prove. I was in the only summer dress that fit me without hanging like a tent.
When our eyes met, her face lit with a smile so wide and warm it nearly knocked the air out of me. She crossed the room, and I rose to meet her. We hugged--too long for strangers, just long enough for something else. When we pulled apart, I brushed a kiss against her cheek.
"I see you've already got coffee," she said, turning toward the counter. "Let me grab something."
I couldn't stop watching her--how casually she stood at the register, how every movement seemed both unstudied and deliberate. My thighs pressed together under the table, trying to quiet the sudden, aching tingle.
She returned with her drink and slid into the seat across from me.
"You are even more gorgeous in person, momma," she said, and the word wrapped around me like a secret.
Heat climbed into my cheeks before I could stop it.
"You're equally breathtaking, green eyes." My fingers found hers on the tabletop, warm skin against warm skin. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling with a shyness that made me want to lean across the table and kiss her for real. I knew this wasn't going to be just coffee.
We talked about my family, but the words felt like background noise. My foot found her leg and stayed there. She didn't move away, if anything, she leaned into it. Her fingertips brushed my arm once... then again. Soon she was tracing the back of my hand, light and slow, like she was drawing a map. I'm not sure either of us remembered what we were saying until.
"I can't believe I'm about to ask you this," she murmured, her voice low, charged. "Do you want to come back to my place?"
I just nodded. She stood, offered her hand, and I took it without thinking. Before I knew it, we were walking to her car.
She opened the passenger door for me.
"Such a gentleman," I teased, trying to break the heavy pull between us.
She giggled, but the sound was laced with something darker.
I didn't get in right away. We stood there, inches apart, until she stepped closer and kissed me. I melted into her--her lips warm, her perfume wrapping around me. One hand slid behind my head, the other pressing against my back. I held her by the waist, pulling her closer.
"I think I love you," she whispered into my mouth.
My breath caught. Saying it back would make it real, too real. So instead, I kissed her again, deeper this time, and slid into the seat, knowing exactly what getting in that car meant.
The drive was quiet, but not empty. Her hand kept finding my thigh, fingers resting lightly at first, then slowly tracing circles through the fabric. I stared out the window, trying to memorize the way the city lights blurred and shimmered past us. Every touch pulled me further in, but part of me still clung to the edge of the cliff, afraid of the drop.
When we pulled into her driveway, I noticed my heart was beating faster than it should. She turned off the engine, then looked at me like she was trying to read my mind.
"You don't have to come in if you're not ready," she said softly, even though her eyes told a different story.
I swallowed, my throat tight. "I know," I murmured, but my body was already leaning toward her.
Inside, her place was warm and dim, smelling faintly of coffee and vanilla. She kicked off her shoes, then reached for my hand again, leading me through the narrow hallway to her living room. We didn't sit. We just stood there for a moment, breathing each other in, like we both knew what was coming and wanted to savor the space right before it happened.
Her fingers found the thin strap of my summer dress, toying with it before slipping it aside just far enough for her palm to find the warm skin of my shoulder.
"You're shaking," she whispered.
"Yeah," I breathed. "But not because I want to stop."
"You don't have to..." she said softly, her breath warm against my lips.
"I know. I want to. I think I love you too," I whispered so quietly I almost didn't hear it myself.
Her lips found mine again, hungrier this time, urgent, claiming. I didn't think anymore; there was only the heat of her mouth, the teasing slide of her tongue against mine, our breaths syncing as her body pressed firmly into me.
Her fingers found the thin straps of my summer dress, sliding them off my shoulders. Gravity took care of the rest, the dress slipping down my body and pooling at my feet. I shivered, not from cold, but from the sudden exposure to her gaze.
I slid my hands under her tee, feeling the heat of her skin, and tugged it up over her head. She broke our kiss just long enough to help me toss it aside before trailing kisses down my neck. My bra clasp gave way under her fingers with practiced ease, and my breath caught.
My breasts were still extra sensitive since having the baby, and her palms molded to them like they'd always belonged there. I moaned softly, the sound surprising even me. "Oh, Sarah... don't stop. I don't know what this means, but I want it. I've wanted you since I first read your post."
She glanced up, eyes glinting. "I want you too. Whatever happens, we'll face it together." She kissed my sternum, then lower, letting her hair spill across my chest as my fingers tangled in it.
One nipple felt the delicate tracing of her fingertips while the other was teased by her tongue. My breath hitched. "I... I'm lactating..."
Her eyes flicked up again, smirking. "That's okay... something new for me to explore." Then her lips closed over my nipple, suckling gently at first, then more eagerly.
I stumbled backward until the back of my legs met the sofa. She guided me down onto it without breaking contact. Her free hand drifted down the hem of my panties, slipping underneath until her fingertips found my clit. The first touch was slow, deliberate--an exploration.
I arched into her hand. "Oh, Sarah..." My wetness coated her fingers, and she circled me with increasing pressure, her mouth still warm on my breast. The crest of release built too quickly to stop. "I'm going to cum!"
That only spurred her on. The climax tore through me--white-hot, stealing my breath and maybe a second of consciousness. When I opened my eyes, she was there, watching me with a small, knowing smile.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too," I breathed back.
We kissed again--deep, unhurried, savoring. I hooked my thumbs into my panties and slid them down, watching as she stripped off her yoga pants and underwear. She smirked, kissing me one last time before trailing down my neck, across my collarbone, over my sternum and belly.
When she parted my thighs and spread me open, she looked up with a smile. "You're perfect."
Her tongue flicked over my clit, teasing, before drawing it into her mouth. At the same time, two fingers slipped inside me, curling just right. I clutched the arm of the sofa with one hand, the other rolling my nipple.
The second climax built slower but deeper, until it crashed through me with a sudden gush I didn't expect. I'd never squirted before. Sarah pulled back only to smile and dive in again, tasting everything she could.
Breathlessly I called, " Hey, green eyes?"
"Yeah?" She looked up at me.
I smirked back at her, "My turn!"
I lunged for her, clumsy and laughing, trying to wrestle her onto the sofa. She fell back, and I climbed over her, kissing her like I had never kissed anyone before. I poured everything into it--love, loss, care, pain, and everything in between.
I kissed her cheek, her earlobe, her neck. I played with her nipples and took hers in my mouth. She moaned fingers laced in my hair. I moved further, kissing her belly. I kissed around her bush. I licked at her, not as smooth and practiced as her.
I alternated my fingers and my tongue at her clit. She moaned, "Laura!" I increased my intensity. I slid two fingers curling them the way she had in me. I sucked on her clit sliding my tongue around it. I could feel her tightening around my fingers. My only desire was to pleasure her. She wrapped her thighs around my head, and I was in heaven. She came soon after. I tasted her juices and felt her gently pull me up on top of her like a blanket.
We lay there in the afterglow for a while. I fell asleep.
Sarah's voice cut in. "Phone's ringing."
She tossed it to me. It was my sister.
Shit.
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