What turned me on part 12A.
The months following Christmas were nothing but turmoil for me. My ex was pushing me like crazy to sell the house and get my own place because he wanted his share of the proceeds and to rid himself of the only bond that still held us together. I understood that, but based on our divorce agreement, I had until late spring to sell. And I wasn't going to be strongarmed into moving fast for him.
I was depressed at times because I was looking but never found anything I felt suited my needs. After a few months of searching and working with my realtor, I did find a nice three-bedroom townhouse in a gated community, about two suburbs west of where I was. Even though it wasn't ideal for me because the house was smaller and didn't have the giant backyard like I had with this home. I liked the way it was set up and there were amenities, like parks and a pool for the kids. After some research, it looked like crime was low, the school district was rated high and all of the conveniences I would need were not far away. So, I pulled the trigger and bought it.
I was excited, yet saddened when I signed all the paperwork at closing. I started remembering closing on the house Dipshit and I bought and the moving day. I was carrying one on my hip and was pregnant with another when we settled in. And now just a few years later, with three little ones, I was embarking on moving out of there and starting over. It was like a part of my life had been whisked away by the stroke of a pen. I signed the paperwork on the old house, got my check for half of the house, and immediately rolled most of it into the downstroke of the new one. Just like that money earned and money spent. But when I got handed the keys, and looked down onto them resting on my palm, I knew my time had come to say goodbye to the old and welcome in the new.
I texted Mary the minute I finished with the closings, writing in all caps: I HAVE A NEW HOUSE! And I sent her a picture of the keys. She was so happy for me. Just reading her response, I could hear her chirping in happiness. I wanted her to see it, but it was mid-week and there was no way she'd be able to come by unless she had all of her offspring in tow. But Saturday afternoon, as I was giving the new place a deep thorough cleaning, she did manage to swing by for a few hours.
Oddly enough even though I was covered head to toe in sweat, smelling like cleaning supplies, Mary and I did make love on my front room floor. It was a magnificent afternoon, and I loved that even though I wasn't at my prettiest, or fresh from the shower, she still wanted me. Looking back, it is an amazing memory to not only make love in my new house, even before the furniture arrived but to have made love to a woman, instead of a man. I couldn't have asked for a better day.
Weeks went by as I began to settle in and start my new life in my new place. There was work to be done. Pictures to be hung, rooms to get painted and organized. Clothes to be gone through. I had to get the kids settled in their new rooms. The new house had noises I never heard before, creeks in the night, and repairs I had never envisioned. Even though I didn't see Mary as much as I wanted to, she was always there for me. I bet half the time I would fall asleep while texting her at night, only to apologize the next morning for not finishing our conversations. It was a tiring time.
When I was finally unpacked, organized, and settled in Mary and I had a nice romantic dinner at my new house. She brought some housewarming gifts and she spent the night. Unfortunately, that night I was on my period, so as much as we fooled around, we didn't have the sex like we normally had when we were together. But I promise you, we both got off. The next few times we made love was at her place, and I spent the night there both times. It was wild spending the night at another female's house after having sex. Those were great nights.
We were moving along as a couple should, slowly getting closer, spending time together, and making love. Truth be told, I didn't even think about men anymore. Of course, there were times, I felt I needed to be filled with a hard dick. That's genetics. But overall, as much as we were hiding this and as different as this situation was for both of us. We had each other. We were talking and texting frequently and when we needed to, we were both getting off.
Truth be told at that point, with everything that was going on. I'm glad I had her. I'm glad we had that arrangement. I didn't need anything else, all I wanted was her. I wanted her friendship and support. I wanted her attention. I wanted to be naked with her. I liked eating her out. I liked having the new experience of being with a woman. I liked being rolled up with her tits pressed up against mine kissing deeply. I liked when she made me cum. I liked it when we experimented or tried a new position. I liked it all. And as time went on, I felt I was leaning more towards women, than I thought I would have. Many nights as I would lay in bed my mind racing at 240 mph on what I had to do next, or what I needed to buy, the only thing that calmed me down and lulled me off to sleep was to create a fantasy of Mary in my head and finger myself to orgasm. No matter how tired and drained I was those thoughts kept me going.
Like I mentioned in my previous story, just before Christmas Mary and I agreed to date. She asked me to keep it between us. I promised her I would. And I did. I never said a word to anyone. I held my promise to her even though I somewhat disagreed with her logic about dating a woman. Especially since this wasn't a one-time thing; or a few sexual experiments, and ending the situation. Months into this we were still sleeping together, still sending erotic texts, pictures, and videos, so I began to wish we could have been more open about it.
As exciting as it would have been to scream it to the world, those thoughts were still concerning. I understood where she was and the fears she had. Because at times, they resonated inside of me as well. But, at this point in our relationship, I felt maybe it was time for us to start coming out to (at least) our friends that we were dating. There were times I just wanted to text everyone I felt needed to hear, to let them know I was dating a woman. I was scared. Sure, I was. I was a mom of three and had never dated a woman before, but since Mary were at this point and still moving forward, I felt it was time to be honest with ourselves. I wanted to tell a few of my closest friends, I wanted to tell my closest co-worker, but as much as I was pussy crazy and crazy about Mary, I just held in it. Fighting that battle to say, "Hey I am bisexual and I am sleeping with a woman named Mary."
Time went by quickly since my move and as things began to settle down to a more normal life for me, Mary's birthday was approaching. She knew I was stressed out, worn out, and just needed a break. We talked about getting away and during the conversation about her birthday weekend, I thought it would be a great idea for us to go up to a quaint little antique town just over three hours away and spend a weekend away. We both felt it would be a great opportunity since we needed a break from the kids, work, and life.
I picked Mary up on Friday after work, and we headed north. We held hands as we drove, talked about our week, and contemplated the adventures we would have walking around town, buying knick-knacks, wine tasting, and eating at the different restaurants.
I booked us a beautiful suite at one of the local hotels and got us a king suite. The room had a king-sized bed, complete with a kitchenette inside the room. The room had a two-person jacuzzi inside and overlooked the town square. It was in essence perfect. But something odd happened the moment we stepped out of my car and headed into the hotel lobby. Mary's demeanor changed. She didn't seem to be as loving, as excited to be getting away, or as giddy as she had been on the drive-up. I didn't think much of it at the time, but it all exploded on Saturday night. Let me explain.
After arriving on Friday evening, we were both tired and hungry. Even though it was getting later in the evening, we found a bistro within walking distance and set out on our first adventure. It was only three blocks away, so we decided to walk. The dinner was fabulous and I paid the bill. We wandered around town a bit, but it was late and dark, so we headed back to our hotel room. Mary showered before I did and I had hoped before the night was out, we would be making love. Strangely enough, instead of her coming out in some see-through lingerie, or something "sexier", Mary was adorned in long flannel pajamas, no make-up, and her hair in a ponytail. Now I get, that just because you are going to have sex, doesn't mean someone has to be in the hottest lingerie, but I thought maybe a bit more effort than flannel pajamas, would have turned me on more and made her feel sexy.
By the time I had showered and crawled into bed. Mary was just about asleep. I tried to cuddle up and seduce her, being flirty, and rubbing her skin, but in the end, she just rolled over and went to sleep. I was a bit confused since this was our first time being alone, outside of our respective houses, away for a romantic birthday weekend, but I didn't push the issue and just went to sleep.
In the morning her mindset hadn't changed much. She was as nervous as could be as we ate in the hotel's breakfast area. Her head was on a swivel as if she kept waiting to see someone she knew. After we ate and got dressed, we started walking around town checking out the stores. There were times I tried holding her hand as we walked. Mary would let me hold her hand for a few seconds, but then she'd pull it away to point something out in a storefront window. Or pointing towards a restaurant. At first, I accepted it as she was pointing things out to me. But every time I'd reach for her hand again, she'd pull it away. I eventually got the hint that she wasn't going to hold hands with me in public, so I stopped trying.
It didn't sit well with me. I thought to myself, we are almost 7 months into dating by now. We have had sex at least 25 times if not more. She has spent the night at my old and new house, and I spent a few nights at hers. So, what is going on? Lunch wasn't much better, we sat in a chain-style restaurant, ordered, and passed little conversation while eating, only to walk back to the hotel immediately afterward. When we got back to the hotel, Mary claimed to have a headache telling me she needed to lay down for a while.
I went outside and sat by the fireplace and just pondered what the issue was. After a while, I went back upstairs and Mary was just waking up. It was late afternoon, so I said to her; "Hey, why don't I shower first, I'll put on my new dress, and my heels. Throw some make-up on, with some jewelry, and let's go to that restaurant you wanted to try."
Mary shrugged her shoulders and gestured as if she was reluctantly agreeing to go.
I followed up with, "Common, let's have some fun. It's an Italian place, I know you like Italian."
Mary begrudgingly agreed and after I showered, getting ready in the foyer of our room, Mary showered. She wore a little black dress with heels and somewhat did her hair and make-up. We drove to the restaurant and walked in like two queens there to take over the world. She opened up a bit at the restaurant but was still sluggish with her enthusiasm for our evening. We walked around town a bit afterward, buying chocolates from one of the local shops and a bottle of wine each. After getting back to the hotel, things went south quickly.
I inquired as to which bottle of wine we wanted to open first. I got little response from Mary. Again, she had turned distant and uncommunicative, she was quiet and evasive as she rested on her side of the bed, flipping through the channels on the TV. Throughout most of this trip, she was distant and reserved. So, when I asked her if we should slip into something more comfortable, she replied "Not right now."
I fucking lost it.
I started bitching and ranting like an old battle-hardened wife. I yelled out, (Bear with my language). "What the fuck is wrong with you? You want to come up here and celebrate your birthday, yet you haven't spoken 50 words to me since we got here. You won't let me hold your fucking hand in public, like what? Is someone going to see you? Discover you're a fucking lesbian? We are more than three hours away from home. Who the fuck's going to see you? You know, it's our first time spending a romantic weekend away from home, and you wearing shitty flannel fucking Pajamas? Seriously? Can you be any sexier?
I furthered; "You don't want to do anything; you don't want to go anywhere? You surely don't want to be here with me! So, what the fuck do you want me to do?"
As I was screaming all that. And yes, my voice was loud, I got even more angry spewing out, "Bitch, we have had sex numerous times. I have eaten your pussy to orgasm on every occasion! My lips have been all over your body, I have licked your ass, you have licked mine and now that we are here together, you want to play this "I'm not a lesbian bullshit!" You're so worried about coming out that I can't tell anyone anything! I can't fucking tell my friends I have a girlfriend, because you might get caught! Should we hide this for another year, maybe two?"
