This is a story of a life's Journey. Through heart ache and pain, so many happy moments, there is some very erotic sexual passages, [I hope] but it is blended into the context of a life's journey. I've tried to make them as real as they were for me at the time, although sometimes my memory fails me. So this story is based on facts, some fiction [to protect the guilty] and many, many fantasies. The place names are real, as are the people. The names have been changed but they are as real as you and me. CJ and I starting in pre-pandemic 2020 was 67 years old. CJ was teenager [18] going on 30. You will have to do the maths. Any sexual activity that took place all happened after everyone was 19 or older especially with CJ who was over 18. There is no underage sex.
I had, at various times, read many stories from the talented authors on Literotica and often wondered where their ideas came from. It never dawned on me that real life experiences can make interesting reading. This is our story, CJ a teenager and a very much older woman, me. How we met, how we connected, how we coped with the many drama's such a relationship can have.
After reading some very explicit lesbian love stories, I shook my head. There is no way these sorts of things can happen to people like me. I took a faithful step and decided to go into the chat rooms, to have a look around. To see what this site held for the likes of a 67 year old, lesbian. A Domme, very much a butch dyke, that's old time terminology. I grew up as a tom boy.
My story from the Beginning.
My parents were good people, Mum was a very strong old fashion type mother, lots of love, but kept it under lock and key. There were no arguments in our house, you did as you were told, first time every time. I have two older brothers that looked out for me growing up. Yes they could push me around and I got to do all their running around for them. But if you ever picked on me, look out. I mixed well with everyone, mostly the girls in our neighborhood. Somehow I knew I was different to the other girls in the district, while they all talked about the boys and who looked cute and who they would let get to 'first' base, I, not once yearned for the touch of any boy. I did wonder what it would be like to kiss a certain girl and by the tender age of 18 I knew I was different. I had no idea what it all meant. In 1966 there was no 'gay' scene that I knew about. In fact being gay, meant you were happy. So, blissfully unaware, I entered pre adulthood.
Mum had ideas for her only daughter. Being married to a nice, hardworking, young man was top of her list for me. I really didn't have a say in my future. How could I even tell her I wanted to kiss a girl, to feel her body next to mine? Oh how I longed for that to happen. As soon as I left high school I got a job in the local Deli, jobs were ten a penny (literally) back then. For the first time in my life I was earning my own money, a whole Nine Dollars and seventy five cents a week. How on earth can a single girl spend so such money? No credit cards back then, you spent what money you had in your purse. I soon learnt to pay my own way. Mum took a third for board and keep, she told me to save a third for my wedding [say what] and I could spend the remaining, but if I was smart, I would be careful with my money. There was one thing I was and that was smart with money.
Just as Mum had planned by the time my 18th birthday came around, I was 'dating' a boy. An apprentice carpenter, he was strong, well built for a 19 year old male, his hair was long and scruffy for a boy back then, the only thing my Mum didn't like about him. She made it clear he was a good catch, but I shouldn't be in any hurry to settle down, if you know what I mean. And that was the only and closest thing to a 'sex' talk I got from my mother. Everything else I learnt from the older women at work and the many teenage girls who came in a chatted to us.
My boyfriend Paul, was always hanging around waiting for me to finish work and would walk me home. I remember the first time he nervously held my hand. I smiled and it felt good to me. But he would always keep his distance once my home came into view. Paul and I got on well, he was playful without being overly sexed up for a teenage boy, we held hands a lot and sat close next to each other on the couch when at home. Mum would never let me out after dark so Paul was always around our house. He fitted in well with my brothers which he needed to do, and the best response I ever got one day was when my eldest brother said to everyone around the Sunday dinner table, that he was alright and would do ok for his baby sister. Giving me a wink and a nod. As if I ever need his permission on who I dated. I didn't realise it at the time, but I actually did as he was always talking to Mum and Dad about what he saw us all doing and who we were talking to.
Paul and I were together for nearly two years before he tried to put the 'hard word' on me. By this time he had his own car, a second hand Holden station wagon that he kept spotlessly clean. Friday nights we were always going to the pictures, well the drive in actually but for Mums sake it was the picture theatre. I remember him when he matter of factly asked if I thought it was time, you know, 'we did it'. I smiled to myself and thought, this wasn't how it was meant to happen surely. He leant in and kissed me placing a hand on my breast, I stiffened instinctively, not knowing what to do. His tongue forced its way into my mouth and he kept squeezing on my tit. He then asked if I wanted to get into the back seat and get undressed. The look on my face, he told me later, was one of shock and horror. Needless to say I didn't but he did get a hand job which took all of a whole 2 minutes by my reckoning.
As time went on we did develop more of an understanding about sex. He got a weekly hand job and I kept my knickers on while he tried his best to get them off. When eventually we did end up in the back seat and he did get my knickers off I can't recollect exactly when the occasion was. So it wasn't that special. By this time I knew that he should of worn a condom and that he shouldn't of lasted in me until the end, but the time it took really wasn't that long and really wasn't memorable. So while I waited for my monthlies, I was absolutely petrified and was certain I would fall pregnant. Needless to say I didn't. But it was a lesson learnt. No condom, no sex.
My journey with men was very limited, yes I know it was the 'swinging sixties' but in little old Adelaide we were still some way behind the Carnaby Street set, where the Beatles were god like figures to us all. We were conservative by nature, not religious by any means, but just very old school. It was during our courtship, if you can call it that that I learnt about my true sexuality. A beach party late in the summer of 1969 was my awakening. The usual crowd of us were enjoying some time down on a beach foreshore, a place called Taperoo, where you could drive your cars down onto the beach, form a wind break with them, build a large open pit fire, sit around, drink and listen to the music. The boys would get drunk and us girls would be laughing and giggling at them. Allison McKenzie, or Macca, as she was nick named, before the golden arches group stole her name, came and sat next to me, and looked into my eyes, smiled and took a little sip out of a bottle of Southern Comfort, then handed me the bottle. I took the bottle and had a pretty heavy swig, which nearly choked me, we both laughed. Macca was in her mid-twenties, one of the older girls in the group. She was a hippie, kind of, but hung out with a group of semi-conservative guys, most of whom she had fucked, or fucked over. I liked her, she was a typical wild child of the 1960's. She knew all of the music and the bands, was into Bob Dylan and Donovan. But also pointed out some emerging bands coming out of England, Deep Purple and Led Zepplin. Smoked pot and slept around. Yeah I liked that she was her own woman.
She looked around the group all singing or dancing, a couple of girls were topless, and their boyfriends were loving it. Macca grabbed me by the hand as she got up, then helped me up. Again she looked into my eyes, smiling and said we should go for a walk to look at the stars away from the noise and the light. I shrugged, muttered why not and headed off walking down the beach into the darkness.
It was obvious she was topless under her multi coloured beach coat and I had a damp beach towel draped over my shoulders, my bikini not quite dry from an earlier swim. She grabbed my hand and we swung our arms like kiddies did as we skipped off away from the madding crowd of half drunken boys and semi naked girls.
She asked if I had ever taken the time to just stop and look at the stars. I hadn't, it just never occurred to me to do such things. She stopped me, lifted my head back and held it there while I took in the millions, no billions of tiny sparkling, lights dancing in the empty blackness of space. She said to sit down, and lay back. I laid down my towel and sat lady like crossed legged, and leaned back. No I was told, lay back and just look up. I did, I was used to doing as I was told. I looked over towards her as she pulled her beach coat off over her head, revealing her bare chest and to my surprise no bikini pants. Naked as the day she was born. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Her bushy mound still able to be seen even in the darkness. I took a very audible deep breath. Macca smiled, and asked if I had never seen a naked woman before. I'm still not sure if she saw the lust and desire in my eyes and in my thoughts. I muttered again I hadn't. She lay down next to me, close, and our arms touching as we looked sky ward. She pointed out the Southern Cross. The very first time I had seen it, or even looked for it. She was humming something familiar but I couldn't name the song for the life of me. Then without missing a beat, asked me if I loved Paul. I answered instinctively, yes, without thinking about it. Then followed up, I think I do. She rolled over onto her side and rested her head on her hand. Using a finger she traced the outline of my bikini top and told me how she had caught me looking at some of the girls. I smiled and told her she was crazy, I wasn't 'like that'. She laughed and said matter of factly,
"yes you are, even if you don't know it." She then leaned over me and kissed me. Not a peck on the lips but a firm, sensual, tender kiss. So soft, so gentle yet both demanding of me and also releasing my pent up frustrations. I looked back into her eyes as the bore into me, just inches away. I could feel her nipples hardening as she slowly kissed me again. This time I responded, opening my mouth and letting our tongues dance together as the passion increase. I automatically open my legs and she fell in between them, her hands now held my face as she kissed me over and over, as if searching for some hidden place that had never been kissed before. A hand found the tie at the back of my neck, and with one hand she untied a double knot with no resistance from me. I could feel her bushy mound rubbing up against my bikini panties and felt the warmth of desire starting to increase with every thrust of her hips. My top was now loose and I felt her lips capture my nipple, I moaned as I kissed her head, tasting the salt from the sea, I was so worked up. I had dreamt about kissing a girl for 5 years now and here I was with a beautiful sexy hippie, naked on top of me, sucking on my breasts thrusting her groin into me. God how I loved this moment.
She raised her head to my neck, where she licked under my ear lobe and whispered, "Take your panties off for me".
