It all started one rainy day about two months ago. I had caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the window of Starbucks as I hurried out of the rain and at 35 I wasn't looking too bad, I thought to myself. I was a little lonely after 6 months of living on my own following my divorce but not unhappy, but it was nice to go out and be in the company of others. Finding a spare table in the crowded bar I sat with my coffee in front of me as I browsed the internet on my phone when I heard a sexy husky voice.
"Can I join you? This place is packed"
"Sure," I said glancing up at a stunning dark-haired woman. As she sat down in front of me, I caught her perfume that seemed to scream sophistication and sex combined together. "She was absolutely gorgeous," I thought to myself as I stared into her eyes that were like burning coals piercing into my soul.
We just talked like I had never talked before. Normally I was cautious and reticent to give details when I talk with people but there was something about her that made me feel comfortable. We talked about the internet, about fashion, the price of gas I even opened up about my divorce and how it had knocked my self- confidence.
She leant forward and I could feel her knee touching mine as she placed her hand on my arm. I remember that compassionate look in her eyes as she said, "You will be fine, just don't think about him, you don't need him to be you."
I loved her words but what was burning through my brain was that this 45-year-old woman (I later found out she was 48) made me feel good. No. it was more than good it was making me feel horny. Part of me wanted to recoil, I had never felt this way about another woman before but another part of me was enjoying the attention. Perhaps it was the fact that I hadn't had sex for over a year, well in fact the only intimate contact I had enjoyed was with myself.
At one point in the conversation, I wasn't really listening to her words, but instead imaging what it would feel like to kiss her. How would her lips taste? Would she kiss me? How soft would her breasts be?
As I was more day dreaming that concentrating it came as a shock when she said she needed to go and started to gather her things together. I almost panicked, not know what to say but then she looked at me with a look that smouldered with lust and desire.
"I am a straight speaking person so I won't beat around the bush. I can sense that you like me and I certainly like you and I would like to see you again," She removed a card from her purse and turning it over wrote on it before giving it to me. "This is my hotel and I have written my room number on the back. Come and see me this evening at nine and I promise you that you won't be disappointed."
As she left, I held the card in my hands staring at it, certain it would burst into flames. I could feel my heart beating like a small bird trapped in a cage and I was sure that when I stood my wetness would leave a stain on the seat.
Maybe I was really a lesbian I thought to myself as in the 8 years of marriage I had never felt this way before. It was like liquid fire was running through my veins and I knew that nothing would stop me from going to the hotel that evening. Then it dawned on me that I didn't even know her name but when I looked at the card again, I saw that she had written Joanna in flowing script next to room 127 and a large heart.
I stayed in Starbucks after she had left, her final words of "you won't be disappointed" ringing in my brain. I could feel her chemistry calling me and I was hot and flushed enjoying the feeling, like being a teenager in love for the first time.
I shook myself from my day dream and went home to eat and get changed for this evening but even as I lounged in the shower, I looked at my body in the mirror and imagined her standing next to me. I am 5'10" and she was a little shorter and although I am 120lb she seemed so much more powerful, like she could lift me and carry me to her bed if she wanted. I carefully shaved my legs wanting them to be smooth and also made sure that my pubic area was neat and tidy. As I shaved the area I imagined her fingers touching me and admiring my neatly trimmed bush and without though I started to tease my clit. Realising the danger of mixing pleasure with a razor I laughed and wrapping a towel around myself started to cook.
As I made the pasta sauce I found myself having an imaginary conversation with her like she was standing behind, holding me tight, yet at the same time giving me advice about what I should I do.
"Should I go to her hotel?" I mused.
"Of course," her voice replied, "what do you have to lose?"
"Well, she was nice to me. Maybe I am a lesbian and that's OK."