My First Time With A Woman 2

I was 35 before I had sex with another woman. I admit having thought about it; I think most girls do. I had masturbated to pictures of women in my brother's Playboys, but never saw myself actually having lesbian sex.

I liked boys. Or thought I did. My first boyfriend, Jock, owned a Harley-Davidson motorcycle, and I think I was more in love with that bike than Jock. I rode everywhere with him on the back of it, but would never take the controls. I didn't want to look like a dyke. Anyway, I married Jock and we had a couple of good years before he tried passing a semi on a two-lane blacktop and head-on'd with a farm truck. Our sex life had been OK. Jock was a premature ejaculator, but it didn't matter, I liked his foreplay better.

After a couple of years I married Clem and became a farm girl. He was big and muscular and expected me to be able to throw bales of hay like he did, and after a time I became hard and fit and strong, but Clem could still toss me around like a rag doll. He didn't believe in preliminaries. He just backed me against a wall and fucked me like a farm animal, sometime taking me in the ass, which hurt like hell. With Clem the only orgasms I had come from my own fingers. He was rough and sometimes mean. I had warned him to never hit me, but one day he did, an open handed slap that nearly took my head off. I ran down to the highway, hitched a ride, and got off at a lawyer's office. I could have taken half the farm, but I settled for a one-time cash settlement.

I was pushing 30 when I met Bob. I was shopping for a used car, and he owned a lot at the north edge of town, where he had a couple dozen old beaters he sold cheap to people with limited funds. I needed something better, so he offered to sell me his car, a Hyundai with only 40,000 on the odometer. He let me take it for a ride, and when I turned down a country road, began whispering in my ear. I stopped the car, ready to tell him off, but before I knew it he was up my skirt taking my thong off. He ate my pussy right there in broad daylight, and within a month we were married. Bob was great in bed. He was Mr. Foreplay himself, and he made me cum so often with his tongue I hardly noticed the fucking part.

Bob and I got along great. He was such a loving guy that I suspected him of being a womanizer, but I didn't know for sure until one Sunday when I came back early from shopping and heard sounds from upstairs, moans and cries and thumps, and when I flung open our bedroom door, I was confronted with the sight of my best friend Joyce riding my husband reverse cowgirl style. "Omigod," was all she could say.

Bob actually said, "Honey, this isn't what it looks like!" I couldn't believe it. "Out!" I yelled.

I got the house and the car lot. I let Bob manage it for me.

So there I was, 35, three times married, single again, and in no mood to hook up with any man, although my women friends kept trying to play matchmaker. I didn't miss Bob much, except for his tongue, but I missed Joyce, devious slut though she was, because we'd been friends since grade school. A picture of her bouncing up and down on my husband, big boobs flopping, kept coming to mind. Joyce looked sexy as hell, getting fucked. I wondered how she'd be in bed.

My friends couldn't believe I'd never had woman sex. They'd all had roommates in college. I had commuted to the local school and didn't live in a dorm. Apparently there was a lot of slap and tickle amongst college girls, especially in sororities.

Then one night at a bachelorette party, a tall slender woman with flowing blonde hair and boobs even bigger than Joyce's sidled up to me. I didn't know her. She hadn't been part of our circle.

"You look bored," she said. I was. The male strippers were putting on a show, and I could barely even watch it. I was through with men.

"I am," I said.

"Want to go upstairs and have some fun?" she whispered in my ear.

I didn't see it coming. I was shocked and a little embarrassed. Also flattered. It was too sudden, I wasn't ready, and I couldn't find the words to say, so I said nothing. Erika drifted away and lost herself in the crowd.

Damn!

Later, I asked one of my friends about her.

Erika Davis, I was told. She had just moved to town, was single, and believed to be full-on lesbian. Apparently she lived in my neighborhood, just around the corner from me.

"Did she come on to you?" Sylvia asked.

"Yes."

"And you turned her down? Molly, she's hot. She has the best body I've ever seen, and she can make you cum about ten times."

"You've-"

"Are you kidding? We all have. She's delicious. We all but come to blows over her."

I gulped. Apparently I had blown my chance.

But maybe not. A few days later I was in the produce section of a Kroger supermarket, and there she was. I was holding a cantaloupe. Her breasts, straining at her cut-off tank top, were bigger, and she was showing a lot of underboob. Her tiny cut-off denim shorts barely covered her ass, and were so tight I could see camel toe. Like Sylvia said, she looked delicious. Good enough to eat. I could almost feel her tongue licking my crotch, but could I really eat out a woman? I shivered, and felt myself getting wet. Yes. I could.

"Listen," I said, "I'm sorry about the other night. You took me by surprise."

I couldn't believe my own boldness.

Her voice was cool. "No problem," she said, intent on surveying the produce, not even looking at me. Then she moved away, and disappeared down an aisle. I felt disappointment like a fist in the gut. I wanted her. I lusted for her.

At the checkout counter, she was two bodies ahead, appearing to take no notice of me. Then as her groceries were sacked and she was about to leave, she turned with a smile and handed me a slip of paper. Then, gone.

I looked, blushing furiously, as I felt every eye in the store on me. On the paper she had written her address and phone number.

But when I got home and put my groceries away, it was Erika who called me.

"If you're interested, come on over," she said. And hung up.

My heart was beating out of my chest. Her address was within walking distance, but I took the car anyway. I couldn't wait to get there.

When she opened the door to let me in, Erika handed me a big glass of red wine.

"You may need this to calm your nerves," she said, ushering me to a couch. I sat, and she sat close to me. "I've been told you've never been with a woman before. Is that true?'

"Yes" I could barely get the word out. I took a big swallow of wine.

"Then drink the rest of your wine, and prepare to have your mind blown."

I drank, feeling like a timid schoolgirl, watching nervously as Erika placed her wine glass on the coffee table in front of us and took off her top, unleashing the most magnificent breasts I'd ever seen, and casually unfastened her shorts and stepped out of them. My God! She was luscious! Her pussy was perfectly bare, and beautiful. I gulped down the rest of my drink and put my glass next to hers.

She leaned forward and undressed me, slowly, teasingly. Beside her, I felt like a boy.

"You're fit," she murmured. "I love that."

Then her lips found mine, and they were soft and wine flavored, her tongue flicking my mouth open and finding its way inside. I had goosebumps all over. We French kissed, and I could feel her take control of me. She pushed me down and her mouth found my ample breasts, sucking on them, driving me mad with desire. Her fingers found my pussy, and opened its folds like a rose. She kissed my belly button, my neck, the insides of my thighs, and I was already cumming before her mouth was sucking on my labia. She had two fingers inside my vagina and another in my ass, and then her tongue entered me and found every one of my sensitive spots. I came so hard I nearly passed out. I had never really been multi-ogasmic, but now I was going off like fireworks bursting their blossoms against a night sky. It was almost more than I could stand. I lost all sense of time. My world was pure pleasure.

Eventually I either passed out or slept. I had never felt so good in my life. I didn't want to move. I was exhausted, but in the best way possible. When I opened my eyes, Erika had poured herself more wine and was drinking it, smiling wickedly.

"Think you can do me?" she asked.

I revived quickly. "Oh, yes," I said. "I'm going to make you scream."

I kissed and fondled her, worshipping those incredible breasts with mouth and tongue, kissed her all over, and eventually buried my head between her legs. I licked and sucked and caressed from pure instinct, and before long I felt her tense and knew I had given her an orgasm.

"Oh, yes!" she said. "More, more!"

I gave her more, and made her cum again, and again, and on one last great shuddering orgasm, she screamed. It was one of the happiest moments of my life.

"Oh, God," she gasped. "You're the best I've ever had!"

I looked up from her crotch. "I'll bet you say that to all the girls."

She answered with a kiss that shook me. "No, no," she said. "I'm not kidding. I want you to be mine, Molly. I think I love you!"

Later, we talked. Erika told me that she wasn't the marrying kind, that she was polyamorous, and that she didn't expect me to be faithful to her.

"This is all new to you," she said. "I want you to experiment, have fun. Seduce all your friends, and then work on the neighbors. I'll help you. We can have 3-ways. We can have a lot of fun together, Molly. You're a lesbian now. How does it feel?"

It felt wonderful.

After a few years, Erika moved away, to San Francisco where she'd been raised, and I was sad to see her go. We stay in touch, and hopefully we'll connect again someday.

I'll always love her for opening my eyes to who I am. Maybe I'll settle down someday with one woman, but right now I'm having too much fun.

And yes, I did fuck Joyce, any number of times. She was always happy to see me.