They say that opportunity only knocks once, whoever âTheyâ are. My chance for a lesbian love affair had come and gone and I had let is pass, albeit regretfully. But now at 35 I wanted to experience it at least once. I had never been afraid to pursue my dreams and once I set a goal, I achieved it. Thus my second adventure began.
After that night in the bookstore with a stranger, my confidence in my attractiveness had increased significantly. But I think men are generally a little easier to pull into a sexual relationship then women. So, finding a woman to have a sexual liaison with was not going to be simple. Where should I look? What kind of woman did I want? Did I need someone with experience or would I rely on instinct and pure animal lust? How to go about it...
I began online...looking in local chat rooms. But the women were all attached and looking for a threesome or strong lesbians looking to convert me. I wanted my first time, possibly my only time, to be with a feminine woman and all alone. A threesome was perfect for another time, but to begin, just us women.
My search was difficult and after a few months I began to think it would never happen. Thatâs when I proved âThemâ all wrong. Opportunity does knock twice, and I didnât miss it the second time around.
I decided to stop looking for a little while...I had been avidly and ardently trying to find a female lover. I remembered some old expression that if you stopped looking, love would find you...so I gave it a break. I reentered my world of domesticity and regular life. My gym workouts continued, my work life was stable, and routine was...well..routine. I needed something new in my life, if it wasnât going to be a woman, it was going to be education. I signed up for a class at the local YWCA in Yoga. Might as well work on my body...and my mind.
The class was wonderful. Yasmine, the instructor was excellent. She taught a great deal about inner spirit and awareness. Learning about the Chakras and how to bring energy into my body was helping. I had found some inner peace in myself and had made the decision to be content with my sexuality as it was; heterosexual and staying that way.
One Tuesday night, half way through the class term, I arrived to find that Yasmine was away and a substitute teacher had been arranged. âOh well,â I thought, âI cannot imagine Yasmine choosing anyone incapable.â I changed clothes, put my hair up and entered the studio...warming up and greeting fellow students. I was bent over, stretching my hamstrings when the door opened and a woman entered and moved to the head of the class. I could only see her bare feet and red toenails in my bent position. I finished my stretch and glanced over and almost fell over in delight. The woman standing at the front of the class was the most exquisite creature I had ever seen.
She stood about 5â5â or so and had the most incredible posture. Her spine was straight and elongated and her neck like a ballerinaâs, long and elegant. Her hair was warm and vibrant, what I could see of it, as it was gathered in an old fashioned snood at the nape of her neck. It glimmered chestnut brown with warm auburn highlights. Her eyes were brown, no not brown. They were more golden. Topaz, yes, that was the word, topaz. Warm and golden; a lioness. As she warmed up and stretched her body, I felt a poke in my back. I turned to find a fellow student grinning at me. âHavenât you ever had Mikaela for a class,?â he enquired. I stammered a reply in the negative. âThen you are in for a real treat and the best work out in a long time,â he laughed.
Class began and we moved quickly through the standard warm ups, progressing to the more complicated moves that made yoga a much more difficult work out then it appears. I couldnât take my eyes of Mikaela as she bent and stretched her body to perfection. Her breasts were high and round on her chest, average in size, and beautifully outlined in her tight leotard. As the work out progressed, her nipples became hard against the material and very visible. Sweat gleamed across her shoulders and her upper lip and I found myself inexorably drawn to her, wanting to lick the sweat from every succulent inch of her and revel in her calm.
As we reached the last few stretches I strained to catch a glimpse of her rear as she bent in a new exercise. Unexpectedly I felt my calf muscles seize and begin to spasm. Grimacing in pain, I left the room and moved into the changing area. I rubbed the muscle to no avail, the charlie horse was firmly locked in place. The tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes when Mikaela walked in. She scanned the room and came over to me. I trembled as she approached, partially in pain and partially in anticipation. âAre you okay?â she queried, a look of consternation upon her face. I tried to reply reassuringly but my face betrayed my pain.
âCome with me,â she said, and helping me up led me back to the steam room. âLie down,â she stated matter of factly, indicating the massage table at the back. She began to knead my calf with firm hands and I bowed my head in agony. Gently, yet with amazing strength, she stroked and prodded until the pain began to cease. I was exhausted, but relieved, and began to relax as the touch of her hands gentled and turned to a caress. Instinctively I felt the change in her touch, somehow knowing that it was more of an admiration and appreciation now, rather then therapy. I smiled inwardly, and somewhere in the recesses of my mind I am positive I heard a âknockingâ sound.
âThe YWCA will be closing in 15 minutes.â The announcement over the P.A. system startled us both, and instinctively I began to get up. Mikaela smiled at me, enquiring âBetter?â to which I nodded vigorously. âKeep off of it and alternate with heat and cold and youâll feel a hundred percent better in the morning,â she advised seriously. I thanked her and she left to begin packing her things. I showered quickly and entered the foyer of the Y, looking for her carefully. I saw her leave by a side door and observed her approaching a sporty little car outside. I timed myself carefully and as she began to back up, I hobbled outside, deliberately playing up my sore leg. She pulled up beside me and asked, âDo you have a ride home?â
âI drive a stick shift,â I replied. âI am not sure if I can drive it tonight,â I indicated my leg with a rueful smile. I was getting good at this I mentally observed, very good.
âLet me give you a ride. Where can I take you?â she asked. â Iâll take a ride only if I can feed you a late supper,â I smiled. She agreed and away we went. After giving her directions, I leaned back and closed my eyes, observing her through shuttered lids. To her I must have looked tired...in fact I was so excited that my pulse was racing and adrenaline pumping. We arrived quickly at my condo, and moved inside.
After inviting her to get comfortable, I moved into the kitchen and began the process of throwing together something to eat. Our conversation was light and witty, and frankly I canât remember any of it. The food was light, the wine full bodied, but my memories were being made with visuals and scents. Her perfume, her body aroma, her shampoo...filled my nostrils. We relaxed and shared life stories and I watched her become more and more animated as the wine relaxed her natural barriers. Time seemed to fly by, but it must have been only an hour when Mikaela rose to leave. We laughed as she wobbled to the bathroom, and I began to encourage her to stay. She had been drinking, I gently reminded her, and shouldnât be driving.
With very little encouragement she agreed and soon we were in my room and I was seeking out a nightgown for her to borrow. In my head I thought, itâs now or never! I showed her a couple of tame T-shirt nighties, but she peeked in my dresser and almost squealed in delight when she saw a white satin nightie that was almost an exact replica of Marilyn Monroeâs dress in the famous scene in the Seven Year Itch. The one where the subway blows the dress up showing Marilynâs legs?
I smirked to myself, as she entered the bathroom to change, this was going to be a treat. I quickly shed my clothes and put on a manâs shirt to sleep in...something easy to remove. I heard the toilet flush and looked towards the door as it opened. The serious Mikaela was replaced by a brunette Marilyn, and she giggled in delight, vampishly posing in the silhouette of the door. âIâm ready!â she cooed and then laughingly began singing âHappy Birthdayâ in a pseudo Monroe style.
We both laughed and without thinking, the words blurted out of my mouth âYou are so beautiful!â The room became silent and my stomach clenched as she looked downward. Involuntarily, I reached out my hand as if to take hers. I was so unsure of myself but I knew that if I didnât try I would forever hear that knock I missed. âPlease, say something Mikaela?â I asked.
She looked up at me and a quivery smile appeared. âI am not beautifulâ, she murmured, âBut when you look at me like that I FEEL beautiful.â