Finding Myself

Kevin and I had drifted into a way of life where we were as good as separated. He was now almost permanently in the Far East and I was pretty sure from what I heard from people who worked for him that he was living with some young bimbo out there. He phoned now and then and sent the occasional brief email and came home almost monthly but rarely stayed more than a week or so before hopping back on a plane to Singapore or Sydney.

Whilst obviously, on the one hand this disappointed me it did on the other let me get on with my new life. And much of that now revolved around my affair with Amanda. As she was divorced with no children and with me having an absentee husband, it was fairly easy for us to carry on with it. We'd meet at least weekly with one or the other of us often staying overnight at the other's house where we'd sleep together. I particularly enjoyed the intimacy, closeness and tenderness of that as goodly parts of our relationship were quite the opposite. Amanda was a domineering woman verging on, but not quite, being a dykey lesbian. Much of the time I felt as if I were her plaything as without doubt I was nearly always sexually, submissive to her. I rarely initiated anything and nearly always I was on the bottom when we had sex. I can't in all honesty say that I objected very forcibly or that I resisted her in those areas for deep down I enjoyed her treating me like that.

However, that part of her made when we slept together always naked and usually in each other's arms so much more wonderful. I knew full well that my thinking and behaviour as well as my strong attraction to her were total contradictions but then, where love is concerned, most women are like that and I think that I had fallen in love with her! Whether that was true love or a convenient one as a substitute for that I had lost or, had been taken away by Kevin and had been near with Jessy, I couldn't be sure. However, as that and his absence made it easier for Amanda and I to indulge our attraction and express our feelings to each other we saw each other more frequently, did more things together and, for all intents and purposes, we were almost living together.

"We must go on a date together Jay?" Amanda told me on the phone.

"Where to?"

"Well there's only really one place for two lessies like us, Soho."

"What do you mean where in Soho? And by the way I am not a les as, in case I hadn't mentioned it to you, I still fuck my husband......... when I see him that is," I grinned.

As both of us travelled into central London by tube I met her at Leicester Square station having agreed that we'd go back to my place by cab after the date as it was nearer and far less expensive than hers would be. I was surprised at how well Amanda knew her way around the narrow streets of Soho behind Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus. She pointed out a couple of bars in Old Compton Street that she said we might visit later explaining that they didn't really get going until ten or so and lead us to an Italian restaurant in Wardour street.

She seemed to know the staff in the restaurant and some of the, mainly, female diners with who she exchanged pleasantries and to who I was introduced. They were quite a glamorous and interesting bunch and, in a strange way sexy, I suppose. Both in the restaurant where we had a lovely and romantic dinner as we played footsy under the table, and later in the pub or club, I wasn't sure what it was other than being a clear lesbian joint, I felt a little odd for I assumed most of the people I was introduced to were aware that Amanda was lesbian and that by association I must be too. But then I didn't know any of them, I didn't move in their circles so it would be unlikely any of them would know or tell anyone I knew. Actually I got quite a buzz out of it.

At the club, Amanda pulled me onto the dance floor and we moved around to a couple of quite fast numbers before the DJ put on a smoochy slow one. I could hardly believe the way she totally unselfconsciously took me into her arms and danced with me in a manner that could convey nothing other than a sexual or, at least, very intimate relationship between us. I was embarrassed at first but, when I saw several more couples dancing as closely as us, I got over that and began to feel grateful to her that she wanted to show people she knew how close she was to me. I put my arms around her neck and pressed my breasts and tummy against her and loved the feel of her hands stroking my hair and then the touch of her tongue in my ear. She squirmed herself against me and then kissed me full on the lips before running her hands up and down my body. It was probably about the most erotic dance I'd ever had.

Earlier in the restaurant after the first bottle of wine she'd stared at my boobs, which wasn't anything unusual but this time it was a little different as she said with a big smile, "The bra, they're almost banned where we're going," she'd smiled. I looked more closely and saw that through her black top that was made of see through net I could see her boobs and nipples. She was wearing very, very tightly fitted thin, white trousers under which it looked as if she was naked.

"I can't go without one Mand, they'll wobble around all over the place," I said when we were outside a while and the bottle of wine later.

Smiling she replied, "That's exactly what they are supposed to do and exactly what the place wants them to do, come here."

She was leaning against a low wall which ran along the side of the pavement in front of the shops. I went and stood close to her. She put her arms round me and kissed me then slid her hands up the back of the yellow silk, tee shirt type top with oversized arm holes I was wearing. Finding my bra strap, she quickly undid the clasp and wriggled it off me, "I said you don't need it and you don't," she said, casually throwing it over the wall.

I started to complain, "Hey don't do that it cost a bloody fortune," but taking my hand she pulled me along the road. I rarely went braless when outside the house anymore and I felt naked without it particularly as the top was loose and my breasts moved around a lot. The silky material, though, felt lovely on my bare boobs and I knew that the outline of my nipples would, at least now and then and maybe all the time, poke through it and that the sides of each boob would be visible through the arm holes and the tops of them from the lowish cut front.

"Mmmmm, that looks lovely," she said cupping both of them and pushing them together, "Don't worry about the fucking bra I'll get you a new one."

As we danced in the club I knew I was losing control, not of the situation for I'd never had that, but of myself, my mind and my body. I was so in awe of her again. Her confidence, the assured and assumptive way she acted with me and others, the way she treated me half like a princess and half like her slut and the way that she always seemed to be in control of everything around her. That created in me a combination of intimacy, almost a love for her and feelings that I didn't quite understand, of being abused, demeaned and degraded. She made it so obvious to others that I was hers, that I was her property and maybe her toy. I part loved and part hated that. There were other things as well about the venue I didn't like causing my loss of control: the loud heavy rock music, the drinks and being so underdressed in public; the clear sexy intimacy between us, the people thinking that I'm a lesbian, feeling and having men and women looking at my, what felt like, near bare breasts. It was as if I was watching a film, it didn't seem as if it was happening to me.

As we danced so her hands cupped my bum and one slipped up my skirt and touched my bare cheeks. What the hell was I doing letting her do that? But then what the hell was I doing in a gay and lesbian bar kissing her in public and letting her slip her hand up my top to squeeze my bare tits? What I was doing, I realised, was capitulating totally to her control and direction. I was becoming hers to dominate, direct, control and do with as she wished.

Around two, she declined several invitations from women she obviously knew to go on somewhere and we cuddled up like two teenagers in the back of the cab on the forty-minute or so drive to my house. After another glass of wine she took my hand and led me to my bedroom slipping her hand up my top and skirt on the way and stroking my tits, tummy and bottom as we walked up the stairs stopping about half way and kissing deeply as she undressed and dropping my clothes onto the stairs where we left them. At the top of the landing she stood behind me, slid my thong off and threw it over the banisters and onto the floor of the entrance hall below. I undid the zip at the back of her top and we struggled that off. She pushed her tight, thin trousers down, which together with my clothes and her top were left lying on the floor. I gasped when I saw that she wasn't wearing any underwear at all. We kissed and caressed each other on the landing as she turned me around and pushed me so that I leaned on the banisters. It seemed so natural for her hand to go between my legs from behind that I opened for her as, she kissed my neck and pressed her tits against my bare back. At last, we got to my large airy bedroom and holding me at arm's length as she stared into my eyes and said, "So, my lovely little slut what can I do for you?"

I slid onto the bed saying, "Make love to me now please."

And she did. Wonderfully, considerately and completely. And I returned all she did to me with pleasure and affection.

That I was now captivated by her was obvious and we both knew it. My feelings towards her gravitated from enormous affection, particularly when she was gentle and sensitive towards me, to almost hatred when she was bullying, overly demanding and, what seemed to me to be, unnecessarily controlling. She was able to raise the most incredible desires and wants in me and she gave me so much intense sexual pleasures that I could almost lose my sense of normality when with her. Although, when apart from her, I vowed that I would no longer be her puppet, when with her she only had to look at me with that haughty stare and dominating manner and I would find myself, sexually at least, completely at her beck and call. When she did that I lost my sense of sexual morality and self-esteem and was prepared to go with her on whatever erotic journey she decided she wanted to take me on. I just didn't seem able to stop myself. And, of course, all of this time I felt that I was sinking further and further into the world of real lesbianism although I didn't feel that was really me. I still did not believe that I had crossed over but considered that I was truly bisexual for occasionally during this mad period I had sexual involvement with Kevin including, of course, the anal sex, our first like that for maybe a year or so.

One thing I learned from Amanda and what hit home to me from my involvement with her was how affected I was by the dominant approach she had towards me. It was as if I needed her to control and direct me and I was worried at the ironic sort of pleasure and the odd thrills I received when she abused and degraded me. It was a side of me I didn't know existed and one that gave me concern for I wasn't at all sure how far I would be happy in letting her, or someone else, take me down that path. The incongruity of this was that at work and in other aspects of my life as a wife and mother I was by no means the wimp that I was with her. And that went further even when we were together for in most, well at least many, of our dealings we were equals and I held my own. It was really only when the sexual after burners of our relationship were turned on that I welcomed and accepted her dominance and my need to be subservient and submissive to her.

In the couple or three weeks after the Soho date I saw her several times. Again, her approach varied from being loving and considerate, although all the time she was totally in control, and being uncaring, sometimes downright horrible and, it struck me more and more, like a dykey lesbian. During our first fling she hadn't been like that and we'd both been rather obvious femmes although she had clearly been the more dominant of us.

"Come to dinner on Friday," Amanda said on the phone, "I'm having a small dinner party and I'd love you to be there with me."

"Lovely thanks, how many and who's going to be there?"

"Oh just four, us and two other gorgeous ladies you'll love them," she told me with a giggle, "And glam up a bit, elegant tarty is the theme, okay? And you'll be staying the night so bring some clean knickers." The clean knickers were the easy bit but wtf did she mean by elegant tarty I asked myself several time over the next couple of days?

After several changes of mind I was wearing a sleeveless, low cut, pink, mini-dress that Kevin had bought me to wear at one of the first swinging sessions we attended a few years ago. It had darker-looking patches that really were see through net running down each side from the arms to the hem of the skirt that when looked at closely hinted at a lack of underwear. The neckline plunged down to about half-way along my cleavage where there was a zip that ran down to just about the top of my pubes that I had now neatly trimmed into a two-inch wide landing strip. I was wearing more make up than normal and with my blonde hair freshly spiked up a bit and a few darker dark streaks put it and wearing extra-large, horn-rimmed glasses and paler pink with grey speckles, peek a boo, four-inch heels, I felt that I had achieved the requested look.

The two other women were already there and Amanda, who was wearing what looked like the dress she'd worn in my hotel room that first night we'd had sex, which now seemed an age ago. It was full length and so tight it looked as if it was moulded to her body. What I hadn't noticed that night in my bedroom was that the front of it was slit from the quite high neckline to the waist with a gap of an inch so as she moved she flashed most and at times all of one or both of her boobs. The dress, which was made of lace so was almost see-through had a slash up her left leg from the hem nearly to her hip showing that she was wearing long, black hold ups with lacy tops.

Rina was black, beautiful and big but in perfect proportions. Taller than Amanda so she must have been six feet she looked very fit that I later learned was from playing football and four or five visits to the gym each week. Her body was perfectly shaped with full breasts spilling out of the low-cut dress, a narrow waist, hips that flared out in very womanly curves and legs that I could see beneath the hem of the, as short and tight as my, dress were bare and lovely. Not unattractive and probably in her thirties she had Negroid features, straightened, shoulder-length hair, beautifully glistening skin, an almost permanent smile and simply the roundest, shapeliest bum I had ever seen. Hilde, the other guest was older, probably in her mid-forties like Amanda and me I guessed, and slimmer than Rina and me. She was Norwegian, but as most do from Scandinavian countries, she spoke perfect English. Wearing a black leather jump suit that zipped up her middle from the crotch to her neck although it was unzipped so she was showing most of her boobs, she had a rather hard looking face made more so by her thin lips and cold eyes. She had short cropped, blonder hair than mine and looked rather butch. In fact she was quite similar looking to Amanda, not beautiful but striking.

We had a few drinks and then Amanda's caterers served dinner. Being a little left out of the conversation as it mainly revolved around people the three of them knew I didn't feel that comfortable. although Amanda's possessive manner towards me and the way that she tenderly and quite frequently touched my arm and looked at me made me feel good and quite wanted. I couldn't make out whether Rina and Hilde were an item or not but they clearly knew each and Amanda quite well for there was lots of giggling at what I found to be almost incomprehensible in-jokes.

Sitting in the small, beautifully furnished sitting room after dinner with the lights dimmed sipping wine, I felt less left out as they talked about the restaurant and club Amanda had taken me to on 'our date.' I suppose I drank a little too much, but then I assume we all did, for I was not quite sure I heard Amanda right but I thought she said something like,

"As we're all dressed like tarts why don't we act like them?" I looked up and she said to me, "Come on Jay why don't you start?" I asked what she meant and she said for me to strip off a little adding, "I've told the girls all about your lovely tits and I'm sure they're dying to see them." That embarrassed me and as diplomatically as I could I refused. I assumed it was some form of joke but the look on her and the others' faces told me it wasn't and Amanda confirmed that by saying, "I'll ask you once more, my dear and think very carefully before answering and then do as you're fucking-well told." That hit me hard and confused me as I felt demeaned and insulted in front of the others both of whom were staring at me, almost leering their eyes roaming from my face to my boobs and then to Amanda who continued with, "But of course lovey, if you'd prefer one of us would happily pull that that zip down and get those two beauties out so we can all see them, wouldn't we ladies?" The others smiled and said that they would.

I just didn't know what to do nor, really, how I felt. I was partly annoyed and partly embarrassed yet, as I looked from one face to another and saw their expressions I could feel my arousal growing. I could see that that both Rina and Hilde were staring intently at me and were holding hands as Amanda stood up and walked behind me and placing her hands on the quite thin straps of the dress on my shoulders she said, quietly, "Stand up for us Jay so we can see more of you in that sexy dress." I didn't move for a few moments and shuddered with I wasn't quite sure what as she ran her hands around my shoulders then slowly down my arms to my elbows and then back up again as I did as she told me and stood up, I realised that the hem of the dress had ridden up my legs and was now so far up them that the front of the miniscule, pink thong could be on show but, of course I couldn't see that. I went to shuffle it down but Amanda was holding my arms preventing me doing that.

She realised what I was trying to and whispered right into me ear, "Leave it babe let the girls see your cunt in that lovely little thong." I did as she told me and was relieved when she slid her hands up my arms and onto my shoulders which meant that I could let the hem slide downwards thus covering me. She took hold of the straps and eased them gradually towards my shoulder joints and around them so they dangled down my arms. As she did that I could, as I had done so many times, feel myself falling under her spell. As she took hold of the zip I did nothing to hinder her nor did I object or say anything. As I looked at her then glanced from Hilde to Rina and back to her, it struck me with a massive jolt that I wanted her to do it, to undo the zip and yes, to expose my boobs to the other two women. And as much as I wanted that to happen, I realised, that also I wanted to see their breasts and to feel and love them.

It was then that Hilde interrupted. I wasn't sure whether that was to help me or just something she wanted to do but, in a way, she saved the day for me by suggesting, "Let's take some photos?"

"How?" Amanda asked. I knew she wasn't that good with phones.

"On a timer, it's dead easy, like a selfie but you don't have to hold the phone at arm's length," she said as she organised us into a group and after fiddling with her phone and placing it on the sideboard joined us and sat next to me with our legs squashed against each other, She had the others standing behind us and Amanda's hands were once more on my nearly bare shoulders. As Hilde was organising us I managed to pull the straps of the dress back into place and checked that Amanda hadn't pulled the zip down at all.