I'd be lying to you if I told you this change of sexual partners or sexuality came easy. It wasn't. I spent countless nights in bed fighting with internal thoughts, fears, and concerns about who I was and where I was heading. I had always believed I was straight. I would have never dated a woman. Let alone fall for one. I sound like a broken record or an emotional basket case who can't figure it out. But there were so many frightening moments.
I can remember standing in the kitchen with my mother right in the middle of dating Mary, wanting to hold her hands and tell her I was dating a woman and falling in love. I refrained. I was too scared. Too shy. Too embarrassed to admit that after dating boys, getting married, and having children, suddenly, I needed my face between a woman's legs. Besides the fact that she would have probably shit herself. I have never been one to fall in love with someone quickly, to dive in feet first before I even knew. So, for me to feel that I was in love with Mary was something so out of the ordinary and so unbelievable that it concerned me beyond fear. It wasn't the love that troubled me; it was because it was a woman.
But as time passed, my passions increased, my aspirations evolved, and my interests developed more; all those fears, concerns, and unease faded. Continuing with Mary for those extra few months turned out to be liberating. I can't say it wasn't unusual, taboo, or unnatural. But I took a leap of faith and pressed on seeing what would happen. Unfortunately, as much as I accepted her and my new lifestyle, she could not. When that was over, I pursued Jane, and as exciting as it was to have the chance to be with her, it fell flat on its face. Now, some years later, after I thought all that had passed along came Amber. She inspired me more than the other two combined. She made me realize how important it is to be honest and open with yourself. And she, even at her young age, was smart enough to know it was okay to express your feelings, passions, and desires. Moreover, to then find someone to share those wants and needs with. But I am getting ahead of myself, so let me pick up where I left off.
It was a dark, cold Saturday night, and I had just put the kids to bed when I heard my phone go off. I wandered into my room, shutting the door behind me, grabbed my phone, and saw that Amber had texted me. The message read, "I need you tonight."
I was excited that she had texted and even more giddy that she needed me. But the kids were home, it was getting late, and I was not looking my best. I replied that I wished she could have me, but the kids were here, I was a mess, and because I was going to bed soon, tonight would probably not happen.
I got a sad face emoji back with the words, "It's okay; I understand."
It had only been two days since we had made love and two full weeks since our first night together. Even though we communicated rather frequently, I still thought about her more than I could have imagined. The communication through all of it led me to believe she was still interested in being with me. Believe me, as much as I would have loved her to come by, it wasn't what I had planned to do.
I turned the hot water on and entered a well-need, long, soapy shower to get the day's muck off of me when I heard my phone ding three more times. When I got out, dried off, and into my jammies, I checked to see who texted. It was Amber again. Her messages read,
"I miss you. I haven't stopped thinking about you since Thursday."
"Can I just stop by for a few minutes? I am not too far away."
"I promise I'll be quiet; I just need to be in your arms. I had a rough day."
I felt so bad for her and appreciated her wanting to see me so badly. I had never had Mary or Jane over when the kids were her. I had always kept my secret lesbian escapades private. Coupled with the fact that I was tired, I wasn't horny, and I had not planned for Amber to come by. It was a deflating moment to tell her no.
When I shut the lights off and crawled into bed, I started thinking of her more. I realized I did wish she was there—that we could be holding each other, letting the stresses of our day go. But trying to be responsible and sensible, I had to do the right thing—or at least what I felt was right.
Maybe it was her texts that I read repeatedly, the hot shower that lifted my spirits, or perhaps I just started thinking more about making love to her on Thursday, but suddenly, I wished I hadn't said "No."
I lay in the darkness of my room with my phone in my hands as my eyes grew heavier and heavier. I hoped she would text again, begging me to come over. Then, maybe I'd pretend I was still leery of her coming by but giving in and saying, "Yes."
It wasn't too long into my relaxation and my deep thoughts that I realized under my jammies was my warm, clean, sexy pussy, which suddenly felt as if it needed to be played with. I didn't have the strength to masturbate, but I wanted someone to be here taking care of it for me. And truthfully, I did want her there. I wanted to be cuddled in. I did want her warm body pressed against mine. I just had never taken this kind of chance before. I didn't want those odd and concerning questions if we would have been caught. But I also thought, if this does continue or if I dated another female exclusively, or for a length of time, like I had with Chuck, eventually the kids would have to meet her. So maybe moving a bit more forward with this might not be unreasonable.
Just as I was pondering all these thoughts, my phone chimed again. It was Amber. She wrote, "I want to be cuddled in bed with you. I promise I'll leave before the kids wake up. Please let me come over."
She followed up with, "Just go unlock the door. I'll let myself in. I'll be really quiet and just come lay in bed with you."
At this point, I was so ready for her to be there and lying next to me that I began to get overly excited. I was still unsure if I was ready for her to be there when the kids were home, but I thought, "What the Hell? Why not?"
I wrote back, "YES." In all caps.
My second message read, "The door will be closed but unlocked. But when you come to my room, lock the door behind you."
She wrote back, "20 minutes!" So, I crawled out of bed to unlock the door.
