Finding Myself Pt 08

A note from Jayne.

I thought there would be just seven parts, but I had forgotten about some other important events that happened on this journey so there will now be at least nine stories in the series. I hope you enjoy the extra parts.

Love Jayne

aka westjayne495

So now, a woman in her mid-forties, separated from her husband and living alone in the Docklands area of London in a place called the Isle of Dogs, I've become a rather embittered person about relationships. I find making any emotional commitment exceedingly difficult, if not impossible and I have to a large degree, lost faith in men. I have, however, in the past few years tasted the 'forbidden fruits' of my own sex and am now drawn more strongly towards them than to the other one. So, where am I going with my sexuality? Oh, I should also add, that I have a high sex drive as well!

Amanda and I did have that affair. And it was just like any other affair, or many at least. An initial period of intensity, phoning each other frequently and meeting for sex at every opportunity, which, surprisingly in some ways, wasn't all that often what with us having our differing work schedules. A middle time when the earlier, hugely strong, sexual attraction had abated a little and then the slow, meandering, excuse laden period as we both mutually cooled it.

Nothing acrimonious, no rows and no real end. Just a passing on. I still see her at with golf and we're still friends, though not lovers, she has a woman in her life and I am very happy for her. Should the circumstances be appropriate between us at some time in the future I have little doubt that we would make love again but neither is likely to chase the other. The affair with Amanda, though, was something different for me. It was, of course, unusual to think that I was having one with another woman. Yes I'd had relationships with others, but they hadn't involved dating or going out together. No, they had been purely sexual. The girls at Uni., Lindsay, Jessy, to an extent, though there was a lot more involved, and Chrissy shared that common feature of being simply for sexual adventure, fun and satisfaction.

With Amanda it was different. She'd made that clear right from the outset. Right from those beguilingly captivating words, "Wait in your room for me, I won't be long."

So we had gone out together, gone on dates really. We went to lunch quite often and, occasionally, to dinner sometimes. We'd go to a pub or bar for drinks and of course we regularly met to play golf. We attended hers or my club functions where we were able to indulge our affection for each other by dancing together. And, of course, she took me to gay and lesbian clubs and bars, usually in Soho, where public displays of affection were not frowned upon and, indeed, were positively encouraged by the DJs.

That our feelings for each other were more than just, or even simply sexual was the difference, I guess, between this and my other experiences, other than with Jessy where we both felt love, but our age difference was too much for us to cope with. But I never really dwelled too long on such topics for that's where the real fear of being lesbian can play on one's mind. While what goes on between two women can be reconciled as being for sexual pleasure, then it's easier to remain relaxed about one's sexuality. However, if one party, or both come to that, starts to have deeper feelings and should the word love be mentioned then it becomes a whole new ball game. Then, questions do have to be asked. They're unavoidable. The problem is providing answers so, it's best not to not ask the question and to try to quell the feelings I think, which is exactly what I did during this part of my life.

So the lesbian feelings, the desire for other women, the bisexuality or whatever I have found and am experiencing, is it still there? Yes it is, but as they say, it comes and goes. Sometimes I will go weeks without thinking about it and at others it is in my mind constantly. Occasionally as I masturbate Lindsay, Amanda or, especially, Jessy and sometime even Melissa from uni. will be in my mind or a vision of being in bed with Kylie Minogue, Sharon Stone or kdLang will suddenly come from nowhere.

I have been naughty about it as well. But then is it naughty? I'm single and have the desires so what was wrong with me going to a lesbian pub in Soho? I'll tell you what was wrong they were all, well most, fucking ugly, very butch, hard-core lesbians who scared the bloody life out of me. None of the nice, feminine, lipstick lesbians that I had imagined. No, leather and denim were everywhere, tattoos and piercings and short hair including in the armpits. Bloody horrible and clearly not my scene. But what became my scene for a while was looking for conquests, female only!

Was it wrong for me to become a predator? Maybe, maybe not, but at first I certainly got it wrong, for the youngish barmaid at the hotel I stayed in for two nights turned me down flat when eventually, after considerable soul searching and two large gins, I asked if she'd like a drink in my room when she finished.

But not the second time. No that time I got it right but then it was less blatant.

My daughter was away with her father and to cheer myself up I decided to take a four-day break at a château hotel in the Dordogne. I'd been there before with Kevin some years before and it really was a delightful place. Stuck half way up a wooded mountainside it was so peaceful and rustic yet reasonably luxurious. The perfect place to relax, get some sun and good food and suitable for being by oneself. That can be difficult at many holiday hotels for I didn't want to be hit on by single, or married come to that, guys and I didn't like to stand out in the dining room as that woman by herself. No, I expected to have dinner in my room most nights and to spend the days by the pool or driving around the lovely countryside.

As it happened almost as soon as I arrived I met another woman for we arrived at the airport on the same plane and shared the courtesy car sent by the hotel to collect us. She was in her late twenties, fairly plain looking and quite tall and slim with a boyish looking figure showed off by her tight jeans and loose shirt. She had shortish, brunette hair worn in one of those stylish bobs similar to Denise Van Outen and wonderfully large, dark green eyes that almost all the time looked sad and pensive. We chatted easily in the car with her telling me that she was staying for a week or so visiting vineyards and restaurants to gather material for a book that her publishing house was going to write on The Dordogne. I thought at first that she was a writer but she wasn't she was a researcher.

We both sat round the pool in the late afternoon just relaxing after the trip and getting some sun that had been sorely missing in England before we left. Karla was easy to talk to and we got on really well as I found myself telling her about my divorce and she told me how she had a boyfriend, but that their relationship was at present a little rocky. We talked about her research work and my writing and just chatted away as the afternoon drifted into early evening. It seemed natural to dine together in the hotel that evening and when we met in the bar I have to admit that those 'feelings' I sometimes get, but usually contain, started welling up in me. Although not the most beautiful of faces, for she had a largish nose and rather thin lips, she did have a sort of haunting attractiveness and a very subtle sexiness. Not at all blatant but the way that she flicked the hair that fell over her forehead and her almost total disregard for the way that her short skirt ran up her long and very shapely legs did get to me.

We had a great meal, a nice bottle of wine and finished off with two Armagnacs each. I slept very well and remember drifting off with her face in my mind and my breast in my hand. I didn't see her until after lunch the next day when she appeared around the pool in a stunning white bikini that showed her slim figure off nicely and of course emphasized the length of her wonderful legs that were undoubtedly her best feature, but very closely followed by her pert bum She told me that she was visiting a local restaurant that evening that was renowned for its regional cooking and that as it was on expenses why didn't I join her? I readily agreed and went off to get dressed for the visit to the as she put it "rather dressy auberge."

Again, we had a superb meal sitting on a lovely table looking out through French windows onto a large lake with the mountains in the back ground. We exchanged more about her failing and my failed relationship both of us admitting that other women were at the root of the breakdowns, "Not," I said laughing, "Necessarily meaning me with other women." She laughed at that, but gave me a rather lingering glance that made me wonder, although I wasn't quite why.

Finishing the meal we caught a cab back to the hotel and fancying a night cap we went to the bar forgetting that in France hotel bars tend to close fairly early.

"Oh shit," she said when we found that it was closed, "I could have murdered a few Armagnacs or cognacs."

It seemed as though fate was intervening for just that morning I'd been shopping and had bought a bottle of cognac so that after the meals I'd imagined I'd have alone in my room, I would have a little snifter. I told her that and suggested that we have a drink in my room. It really was the oddest and most erotic feeling to be showing a woman that I was aroused by into my bedroom. Probably the sort of feeling that men have when they are hunting their prey for that, I realised, was indeed, what I was doing.

There was a little seating area, but as it was still nicely warm we took the bottle and glasses onto the balcony and sat close together side by side on a wicker settee that had cushions on it. It was the only seating on the balcony so, once more it appeared that fate was on my side and was coming to my assistance as I sat beside her, our hips touching and our outer legs now and then scraping against the other.

We had two fairly quick drinks as we chatted with me telling her about Sara and my work and her telling me about her social life that largely revolved around publisher's parties and a very active scene in Notting Hill Gate where she shared a flat with an aspiring actress. Karla had put her feet on the wicker table in front of us so that her long legs were out straight and that had caused her dress to climb well up her tanned thighs and she looked so desirable that I almost lost control of myself. But nothing happened. As much as I wanted to do something I just couldn't pluck up the courage to start anything. I felt silly really but somewhat relieved yet also frustrated as I said goodnight to her and watched her leave my room.

I saw her for breakfast the next day but then she had some meetings and I went off exploring so we agreed to meet around four for a late afternoon swim and some sun. During my exploring I couldn't stop my mind often returning to her and the unusual and unexpected level of desire I felt for her. I knew that it was totally out of character for this was the only time in my life I had really fancied another woman sufficiently for me to think of trying to seduce her and I couldn't really put my finger on what had prompted that. Maybe both of us being alone? Possibly a sort of understated, subtle hint of availability from her or could it be that my bisexual tendencies actually were becoming a lesbian desire?

She was already at the pool when I arrived. Despite my resolve to put any ideas of doing anything with her out of my mind, immediately I saw her those strong feelings returned and I found myself instantly thinking of being with her sexually. She looked very serious as I sat beside her and right away told me that she'd just spoken to her boyfriend and that he had told her it was over. She began to cry and I instinctively put my arm around her feeling something like a charge of electricity as my hand touched the skin of her shoulders. I cuddled her to me in an almost maternal way feeling a little guilty at my thoughts about her as she sobbed in my arms. We talked a little, as she explained the phone call and as I tried to comfort and reassure her. I explained that when I'd broken up from Kevin how hard it had been, but that it did go away. As we chatted I found the warmth and closeness of her very arousing and I found myself quite unashamedly taking advantage of the situation by stroking her lovely, brunette hair and saying softly, "Anyway, Karla, men just aren't worth it, they're all bastards." This made her smile a little and she replied.

"Yes, I'm beginning to see that." We lapsed into silence and slowly, and rather reluctantly, I removed my arms from around her but we still sat on the same lounger our legs touching. I took a chance,

"I know what you need Karla," I said brightly and added as she looked at me those big dreamy eyes sending a shiver through me, "A bloody great Armagnac, come on." I took her hand and after firstly slipping into our sundresses we marched off towards my room. In there, I felt very nervous both from the excitement of her presence and of course from the prospect that I might find the pluck to try to seduce her. Standing looking out of the windows, I poured us fairly large Armagnacs and said, "Here's to us jilted women Karla." We touched glasses still standing there as we sipped the strong liquid. Karla sat on the edge of my bed and I sat beside her as she once more ran over the background to the break-up. As she did, so once more she became a little tearful and I took that opportunity to put my arm around her shoulders again. She was sobbing. Our legs were pressed together, the touch through the thin material being very stimulating. My arm was around her shoulders, my breast was pressing against her bare arm, her head was on my chest and to once more I stroked her hair. We stayed like that as she sobbed and I murmured, "You'll feel better soon Karla."

She whimpered a little and said, "You're so understanding and kind Jayne, thank you."

I pulled her a little closer and said, "Don't worry Karla, women like us can do without men, I do." She didn't respond but equally she didn't move away from me. I held her tighter and ran my hand slowly through her hair letting it slide down her slim neck, "In any case," I went on quietly, "You're beautiful and will soon find someone else."

She replied softly. "Do you really think so?"

I told her that I did and what a wonderful figure she had and how lovely I thought her hair was as I continued stroking it. My heart was now pounding and my mind and body were inflamed with a desire for her. I found a boldness I didn't think I had as I let my fingertips trail across her forehead and down onto her cheek as I said very softly, "Ever since I saw you at the airport Karla I have thought how beautiful you are, what a marvellous figure you have and how wonderful you look." I let that sink in for a moment before adding, "I find you quite irresistible." I didn't think that she could fail to realise that this was a come on and I hoped for a positive response, but none came. I pulled her slightly closer and then whispered, "Yes Karla totally and utterly irresistible," as I took her chin in my hand and turned her face up towards me. Those lovely eyes met mine and looked deep into mine as I stared back at her. Plucking all the courage I could possibly muster I whispered, "May I kiss you Karla?"

At first I thought I'd blown it as there was no response. Nothing, no reaction. Either she was being very astute and keeping the ball well in my court or she was considering the possible enormity of what I was suggesting. We continued looking into each other's eyes and thankfully she showed no signs of moving away or of pushing me off. I slowly eased my face towards hers and still she didn't move away. Guessing that this was a sign of agreement, my heart leaped as I moved my face even closer and, plucking up every ounce of courage that I possessed, I gently placed my lips in a little kiss on her cheek. She smelt and felt so lovely and my heart ponded as I realised that I might be near to making love to this exquisitely alluring creature. But I wasn't complacent. I knew that I hadn't yet fully persuaded her and that there was probably considerable conflict within her as I gently stroked her face and placed little kisses on her cheek. I let my fingertips run across her face softly touching her forehead, her hairline, eyebrows and her eyelids. I didn't rush things. That wouldn't have been appropriate. No Karla had to reach her own conclusion as to what would happen, albeit with my coaxing, "You smell so wonderful Karla," I whispered as I planted a soft kiss on her forehead causing a low sigh, almost a moan as to slip out of her mouth.

"Oh Jayne," she whimpered as I lifted her face so that I could look into her eyes. This time, as I edged my face towards hers my lips were directed towards hers and she was clearly aware of that. Turning my head a little when our lips were just a couple of inches apart I slightly opened mine and was thrilled to see that she did as well. I brushed my lips against hers and gently licked her upper lip before taking the plunge and covering her lips with mine in what was a full and perfect kiss. So soft and gentle, loving and enquiring, tentative yet responsive. We sat like that for some time kissing. It was me leading the way of course, but Karla was playing her part. It was not the rough, demanding tongue down my throat sort of kiss that men seem to prefer and which Amanda often used. No, I kissed her lightly, on her lips, her cheeks, her eyes and her chin. I sucked gently on her upper lip and ran the tip of my tongue round her mouth. With each new sensation Karla made little whimpering noises that were both so endearing and exciting as I assumed she slowly became accustomed to and, I hoped, acceptive of what we were doing.

"Oh Jayne," she sighed. She went to say something else but my fingertip on her lips stopped her.

"Don't say anything Karla, don't," I murmured, rather enjoying being in control for a change and leading the way as I seduced this lovely creature, "Just feel, don't speak just enjoy it," I said aware that she would probably start asking questions as I kissed her again this time fully on her lips and her response was much more obvious and enthusiastic. Her lips were now moving against mine and were open so that my tongue could slip just inside her mouth and touch the tip of her tongue. As I did that, I pulled her closer and I felt no resistance whatsoever as my fuller breasts squashed so deliciously against her smaller, firmer chest. Holding and comforting her I let her get used to this more overtly sexual movement and I was thrilled when she showed no signs of withdrawing from what was such an obvious increase in the depth of intimacy between us. But I still wasn't sure that this would be anything more than a girly embrace and snog. The sort of situation that a surprisingly large number of us women get involved in with friends and acquaintances. I hadn't the experience to sum her up and to work out yet the level of acceptance she really had to my, what was clearly at the least, bisexual and, at the stronger level, lesbian advance. But I had to know, I had to try, I needed to test myself and her. I wanted to find out whether I could indeed 'pull' a girl and take her on a journey of sexual awakening.

As she sat snuggled up in my arms exchanging kisses, I looked down and saw her small boobs in the bikini and I knew that I would have to see them in all their naked glory. I knew that I would have put myself in the position where she might reject me as I pushed the boundaries out even further. Slowly, I plucked up the courage and then equally slowly I moved my hand towards her chest. Several times I almost lost my nerve, but the way that she was returning my kisses and the apparently comfortable way that she was lying in my arms gave me the fortitude to carry on. I placed my hand on the small orb very softly, hardly touching it but enough so that I knew her body would tell her what I was doing. But I wasn't too overt with it, no caressing or squeezing and no touching of her flesh, just the material of her bikini top. What, I guess I was doing, was making a gesture that she could either, accept, hopefully or, could reject and not too much face would be lost. I suppose really I was putting the ball in her court. She could move her body so that her breast came away and then it could be put down as an accident or just a little overeagerness on my part or, she could stay there in which case she was giving me the green light.