Finding Myself

A few words from the author.

This is a fairly long story which is in several parts, probably 7. I will post these regularly over the next couple of weeks so keep checking Lit for the next part and please feel very free to leave comments or to score (highly) any or all of the parts.

So now, join me on my journey from being a faithful, though unhappy wife, to becoming a full-on lesbian. I hope you enjoy the ride.

Love,

Jayne x

I first realised that my attraction to women was more than simply friendship just after my eighteenth birthday when I was in my last year at school. It was then when my feelings towards them turned firstly, intimate and then, later sexual. Initially, they were directed towards the Sports Captain, Megan and then to Mrs. Western the English Teacher who was in her thirties.

Apart from a couple of dances and a grope with Megan at a party, nothing happened with either of them but, being a typical, horny teenager my hormones were raging and sex was always uppermost in my mind. The two of them became my masturbation fodder until I lost my virginity just after my eighteenth birthday on the back seat of a Ford Escort to a twenty-five-year-old guy who was my tennis partner.

My sexual thoughts about women increased when I went to university as I got in with a group of girls that included two declared lesbians and two others who said they were bi. The other three of us had no experience with women and had no idea really what we were as, at the time, we hadn't heard of the sexual classification, horrible term as that is, of bi curious. I was certainly that and whilst at uni. and during the year or so I spent working in the US immediately after that I more than satisfied that curiosity.

This was the naughties and lesbianism was quite a fad at the time.. Madonna had kissed Brittany on stage, girls were 'coming out' everywhere, there were lessy scenes on TV and in lots of films, and it was nowhere near as frowned upon then as it had been earlier. And, of course, the example set by rock and film stars trickled down to the masses of impressionable fans such as us young, university students. It was then as good as impossible to go to a club, certainly in London, and not see girls dancing together very intimately, holding hands, cuddling and even kissing. And, of course, university students are always at the forefront of such fads and fashions. So, if clubs and society in general were accepting women being together then university life was positively embracing it, almost insisting upon it.

Of course with most of us, it wasn't real lesbianism. Few of us cut our hair short, wore dungarees, let the hair grow in our armpits or developed penis aversions and hardly any of us became out and out man haters. No, we were sexual pioneers, free-thinkers and erotic explorers, or so we thought. We were examples of what the media termed 'lipstick lesbians,' basically good lookers that admired the beauty of other women and wanted to experiment.

Having said all that it was still pretty frightening admitting to it and even more so doing something about it. It wasn't for everyone, not all girls could accept the idea. Maybe there's some genetic thing that makes it easier and more palatable for some females than for others. If so, then I had, and have still got, that genetic thing in quite a big way.

"Thanks for the lift Jayne, would you like to come in for coffee, the rest will be there?" Melissa, my first real female lover, asked as I pulled up outside the large house that six of the economics group she was in rented. I had given her, one of the self-admitted lesbians in our group, a lift home from a uni function in the centre of town. I half turned and looked at her and said, "No, I'll give that a miss if that's ok."

"Yes of course it is love," she said softly holding my gaze but making no move to get out of my MINI and we just sat there for a moment or two, very close but separated by a mutual fear as I later learned. A fear that was partly of being rejected and partly, I think, in a strange way, of being accepted. But in retrospect I could see that something had to happen, something had to give, something had to change, something had to make us share our feelings.

"Mel," I said turning and looking at her as at precisely the same time she looked at me.

"Jay."

We laughed, "Go ahead," I said as she, again at the same time, said.

"After you."

I could hear the nervousness in her voice and see the apprehension in her eyes, even though it was dark in the MINI. We looked at each other for a moment or two until she said, in almost a whisper.

"Are you feeling the same things as I am Jayne?"

The look on her face as she said that was so caring and intense that my heart went out to her. Instead of responding with a rather smart-arse remark such as, 'How would I know?' I replied, in a voice that was croaky with emotion.

"Yes Mel, I think I probably am."

"Oh God Jay," were the wonderfully confirming last words I heard before we were in each other's arms her lips on mine stopping any further talking. It was simply the most exciting, arousing, succulent and enjoyable kiss I'd ever had. It was long and tender, long and passionate, long and enquiring and long and inviting. It was a kiss of relief that we'd found each other and one of demand that we wanted more. It was asking and accepting and giving and taking at same time. It was everything a kiss should be and everything that I'd imagined it would be as I'd lain so many nights now, masturbating over exactly what I was now doing, kissing another woman.

Our arms went around each other and our hands, as if on autopilot, found the other's breasts. More tentatively and without the frantic grasping that most men tend to do. No words were exchanged, we didn't ask permission or give approval as there was no need. We both knew instinctively it was what our bodies wanted and our minds demanded, it was perfectly natural, the logical extension of the kiss and probably the most sexually exciting thing that had ever happened to me.

Somehow a couple of buttons on her blouse had come undone and my hands were on her bra and the bare flesh above it while hers were inside my sweater.

"Not here Jay, not here, it's too public," Mel broke our kiss long enough to whisper.

"Where then? Where can we go?" I asked knowing it wasn't in her house or my flat that I shared with two others.

"Just drive Jayne, take us somewhere quiet, where there's no one around."

I almost smiled as I drove into the country her hand stroking my neck, for once again I realised, I was going to make love in a car and maybe lose my bisexual virginity just as I had my hetero one.

And make love we did. Wondrous, magical, exhilarating and tantalisingly stimulating love that was so different, so gentle, so exciting and so much more satisfying than anything I'd had with the five men I had so far had full sex with. It was soft and slow and tender, but it wasn't complete love, it couldn't be, we didn't have the time or the space on the back seat of a MINI for that.

But we did have the time to let the other bare our breasts, to stroke and caress them, to squeeze and pinch them and to kiss and lick them. We had the time and the space and the will and the desire to make each other cum by stimulating our breasts.

It was on the back seat of my MINI that I think I fell in love, well at least in lust, for Melissa. It was not just what she did to me that caused that but also her reactions to me and my oral attention to her that was fantastic and so horny. The groans and moans, the long sighs and deep grunts, the tight gripping of her hands on me and the straining of her body, all combined to thrill me so much. As I made love to her breasts I didn't know just what it was that was giving me the greatest sexual pleasure, the feel, taste and look of them or the wonderful way she responded and what she did to me. But did I care? No, not one bit. I just accepted, enjoyed and loved every second of the pleasure and extreme sexual stimulation I was gaining. It wasn't by any means one way, for Melissa was pretty much mirroring what I was doing to her breasts by doing the same to mine. And also it wasn't just me gaining the fantastic pleasures and stimulation for she was moaning and groaning as she had sex with my equally sensitive nipples and B/C cup boobs.

We made each other cum twice like that. But we didn't go any further. I wanted to touch her between her legs but as she made no move to touch me there and I was too shy to start that, maybe she felt the same, I thought.

As she opened the door to the MINI an hour or so later outside her house she held my face in her hands and we kissed each other very tenderly on the lips as she whispered, "I want you so very, very much Jay."

"Oh yes, yes Mel," was the only sort of rather inept reply I could conjure up.

As she got out of the car and bent down and looked through the window, she whispered "I'll call you first thing."

My 'thing' with Mel had begun just before the end of my first year, her second. We were at the drama club's end of term party which was quite a big do held off campus at a restaurant cum bar in the centre of town. We were having drinks prior to dinner and she came up to me. She was looking particularly lovely that evening for, in keeping with tradition, we had all dressed up for the occasion. She was wearing a black, probably silk dress that was quite low at the front. The front of the dress wrapped around her between her boobs and was tied at the waist giving the distinct impression that if that was undone everything would fall out. The skirt was tight and impressively, but at the time, somewhat unfashionably short with the hem about eight inches down from her panties which made it about ten inches up from her knees. The whole garment clung to her like a second skin accentuating every inch of her slender, stunning body.

I was wearing a white dress. It was high at the front but the back plunged down to beneath my waist, almost showing the start of the crease of my bum I'd noticed when I'd done a quick twirl just before leaving the flat. It was just above the knee in length, but the ultra-tight, pencil skirt was slashed up the side almost to panty level so that I was flashing almost all of my leg which was bare. I'd put my longish, blonde hair up leaving a few tresses tumbling down by my ears and neck. I thought I looked pretty good.

"Wow you look marvellous," I said to Melissa, my eyes automatically being drawn to the bare flesh above the top and beneath the hem of her dress.

"Well I thought I should give the old tits and legs an outing, they don't get out and about that much," she smiled leaning forward giving me an even better view of her chest and her rather small but beautifully shaped boobs. She gave me a peck on the cheek as she whispered, "And you look absolutely fantastic," As she straightened up glancing at my chest and then looking behind me she said quietly, "Forget anything did we by any chance?" I laughed at her obvious references to my lack of a bra, and the lowness of the back of my dress, suggesting a lack of panties as she went on staring at my chest, "And yes I guess it is a little chilly in here," as she stared at the clear indentations of my nipples.

"No, I'm wearing panties," I smiled back, admitting the lack of bra. and feeling embarrassed but excited at what were her quite obvious pick-up lines.

We sat together at dinner and after we were in the same group standing around the bar drinking. Several of us danced in a circle and then broke into couples when a slower number came on. I danced with a nerd guy studying maths and then somehow Mel and I were dancing together, as indeed were several other girls.

The music was very loud so conversation was as good as impossible. But we didn't need that. From the way she looked at me, the closeness of where she stood and the frequent unnecessary, but exciting touches I was pretty sure she was feeling the same as I was. The booze, our dancing, the conversations we'd had with the rest of the group about sex and sexuality over the past few months almost guaranteed that. Guaranteed that both of us would be feeling those tremors in our breasts and tummies, those slight shudders running throughout our bodies, the extra warmth and the tingling that indicates arousal. Where I had held her around her waist as we'd danced she'd felt taught, like a coiled-up spring waiting to be released. As I looked into her eyes they were sparkling and staring back at me with a look of want and desire and, I realised with somewhat of a start, a hint of availability.

I wanted her to do something, say something that confirmed what I was hoping and thinking. I wanted to kiss her, hold myself tight against her and I wanted to see and stroke her body. At the same time I was nervous, apprehensive and scared, I suppose. Sure I was full of bravado, yes I kidded myself on how adventurous I was and for certain I gave the impression of being very experienced and up for anything. But really I was still a kid. I wasn't that experienced in sex at all, let alone with women where there'd only been a couple of isolated experiences at school and a few in London clubs.

But she didn't do anything other than ogle me. I guess she was as unsure as me, after all trying to pull one of your close friends is a risky business isn't it? Especially a close friend in a community such as a university and particularly in such a public setting. So, in the end nothing happened. Nothing that is other than us walking off the dance floor holding hands and staring deeply into the other's eyes when we got to the uni. coach and let go of each other. Her hand in mine, though, was one of the most erotic things I'd ever experienced. The feel of her skin on mine, the slight, almost impossible to discern, caress of her fingertips on the back of my hand and the gentle squeezing from both of us was, quite frankly, as exciting as having a man's hands on my breasts, in fact the reaction in my body and mind was similar to that.

As I undressed and got ready for bed I knew sleep would be difficult. I was full of pent-up sexual excitement and my mind was whirring with wonderful thoughts about Mel. Inevitably there was only one solution to that. The masturbation I had lying naked on my front went some way to overcoming the sexual arousal and helped me get to sleep but it reared its head again in the morning where once more Mel made the most delicious love to me in my mind.

A few evenings later we were at a presentation by a recruitment company an off campus hotel. I had no idea she was going to be there but was pleased to see her and as I was driving and she'd come by bus, I offered her a lift home. It was as she got out of my car after that lift that she spoke those words that will be etched firmly in my mind for ever of, "I want to make full and complete love to you, very, very soon, I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

Smiling, I went to bed happy and thrilled with what had happened and with those arousing words ringing around in my mind. Again I couldn't sleep as I was so excited about her promised phone call. Of course I masturbated imagining that it was Mel's hands, mouth and tongue that were doing the things to me that my fingers were doing.

She phoned at ten and told me that she'd booked a room at a local hotel and could we meet there at two adding, "I'll call you with the room number when I've checked in."

It was a warm day so, I just slipped into a little white thong and a loose, pale blue, thin, tee-shirt dress that came to mid-thigh, with no bra or tights and just flip flops. In my teens and early twenties I hadn't developed the shortish, spiky style of my natural, blonde hair that I had in later years and I was still experimenting, unsuccessfully as it happens, with contact lenses. I walked the half mile or so to the hotel and feeling a little nervous for a part of me was thinking someone would stop me as never having done it before I waltzed through the hotel reception, went up to room 854 and knocked on the door. It slowly opened and Mel poked her head around it but kept her body behind it and smiled saying, "Hi, come on in." Opening the door wider but staying behind it as I walked in, my heart leaped when she shut the door and I saw that she was wearing just her panties and bra, both all white, very lacy and completely see through.

"Welcome to my lair," she smiled holding her arms out.

"Thanks," I smiled back, "It's wonderful to be here."

As her arms went round me and I was squashed against her, she whispered just before we kissed, "I'll make it so wonderful for you Jayne, I promise."

And she did.

Every single moment of the eight hours we spent in that room were wonderful. Every touch, every kiss, every fondle, caress, stroke and lick were new experiences, marvellous sensations and wonderful adventures for me. Every time we made each other cum, every climax, and I lost count of how many we both had, every time my body was held against hers and every time her head was between my legs was wonderful. And every time I licked and sucked Melissa's breasts or pussy my heart almost burst.

Once in the room with the door shut, her hands quickly lifted my dress over my head and she billed and cooed her delight at my naked breasts. She unclipped her bra and dropped that on the floor with my dress. Wordlessly we laid on the bed, snuggled into each other's arms and everything then just came so naturally and easily. We kissed and kissed and kissed and kissed. We stroked and fondled and licked and sucked each other's breasts and nipples and we roamed our hands slowly over the other's body before making each other cum, countless times.

Later after that first burst of energetic sexual activity we laid on our sides in each other's arms and I felt her hands on my thong and bottom. She started to peel the thong down so I did the same to her panties. We were gazing adoringly into each other's eyes swapping little kisses as we made each other naked. She rolled me onto my back and supporting herself on one elbow she stared at me as if watching for my reaction as, she ran her fingertips down my body, into my thatch of tawny pubic hair, shaving hadn't become the rage back then, and rubbed my mound. Still gazing into my eyes her fingers slid a little further and brushed across my clit and onto my soaked lips. I grunted and my whole body jerked.

"OK?" she mouthed, smiling tenderly at me.

"Yes of course," I whispered back reaching up and cupping her breast as if to emphasise my agreement.

She then proceeded to finger fuck me to the most massive orgasm I think I'd ever had. I came with my mouth full of her nipple and one of my hands between her legs which were soaked with her juices. But she didn't stop when I climaxed. I was still shuddering with sexual ecstasy when, for the first time, I had a woman's tongue on my pussy.

My body just seemed to explode with such extreme sexual feelings that I may well have fainted from them. I don't know how many times I climaxed or whether I just had one of those long, long ones of the type a married guy of thirty five had given me in his marital bed a few months ago. All I know was that my mind and body coincided in such physical and emotional extremes that I lost all reason. I was sobbing, crying, grunting, moaning, sighing and maybe even screaming. I loved it and there and then I became addicted to and a massive fan of female-to-female oral sex and more significantly maybe I became a lesbian.

I found it so wonderfully intimate and so fantastically giving and sharing. I had read somewhere that some find it more erotic and satisfying than full, penetrative sex, but I'm not sure on that, though, it is a perfect partnership in erotic sensations exchange. After the first time she tongued me to a climax and we cuddled as she cradled my head to her breasts I was thanking her and saying, "That's the first time anyone has done that to me," as I ran my fingertips over her gloriously soft, smooth skin.