What Turned Me on Pt 14

What turned me on Pt 14.

When I awoke that Sunday morning, I felt like a train had hit me. Even though I hadn't drank a lot, the late hours, the loudness of the bar, the dancing, and my self-exploits, had left me sore, achy, and tired. As I sipped my first cup of coffee, my head was still spinning that I had seen Jane. I danced with her, gave her my number, and played with myself thinking about her, as I had some time ago.

I almost felt panicked, and uneasy, as if she knew I was becoming a lesbian, or even was a lesbian, and that I was there to meet women. I thought to myself, "Seriously, we ran into each other at a lesbian bar, what other evidence did she need?"

I felt fearful she was going to look at me differently or tell everyone she knew an old client was trying to seduce her. I couldn't fathom why I had those fears. She didn't know anyone I knew; we hadn't done anything. I didn't try to kiss her. I didn't ask her back to my house. I wasn't groping her in her private areas as we danced. So maybe it was just the after-effect of seeing her and dancing with her, that made me nervous. Somewhere in those thoughts, albeit self-induced, unrealistic fears, I suddenly began to really know what Mary felt like. And I understood it even more.

All those fears heightened when at 11:08 A.M. my phone rang with a local number I didn't recognize. I answered the call and I heard her sweet voice on the other line; "Hi, Jill. It's Jane."

I was rather surprised she called. I figured I wouldn't hear from her at all, let alone from her so fast. I was in essence, unprepared for this conversation. However, she was so polite and communicative throughout that it took the burden off of me to keep the conversation moving. In talking to Jane, she told me she had gotten home after 4:00 A.M. and was so exhausted, but she had so much fun at the bar dancing, and being "young and wild" again. We talked for a while and I probably sounded like a babbling idiot, because I was at a loss on what to say. But in the end, as we were winding down the conversation, I asked her if she'd like to meet one night during the week for dinner, so we could catch up more and she said; "Yes."

We texted back and forth throughout the week and agreed to meet on Thursday night at the Margarita Bar and Catina near her office. I was a nervous wreck getting ready to see her. I must have put on seven different outfits before I finally settled on a long black dress, off the shoulders, with heels and hose. I wanted to look good and be fashionable, but I didn't want to make it seem like I was there for a romantic dinner, because I wasn't sure what was going to happen.

I was shaking and my stomach was doing flips when I walked into the restaurant. Jane was in the lobby and greeted me with a hug. We were seated quickly and ordered our food. As the night progressed and the more we talked, laughed, and just had a great conversation, the nervousness wore off. I'll spare the whole lengthy conversations of our lives, our upbringing, and our daily grind and just let you know in the end, I felt as if it was one of the best nights I've had where I just got to sit down, talk and get to know someone more. Throughout the next week or so, I'd hear from Jane sporadically, and I felt we were starting to build a friendship, more than just attorney-to-client moments.

I wasn't sure where this was all leading. Maybe nothing sexual would ever come of it. Maybe I had just found a new friend. I thought - at that point - that I should just continue to focus on developing a friendship with her and not be so concerned about trying to sleep with her. And just see where life was taking me.

But my newfound desire to be bolder, and more aggressive in my own life, led me to be more assertive and I asked Jane if she would like to come over for dinner next weekend when I was child-free. Her response was, "Oh I'd love that. So, the following Saturday she came by me.

That Saturday late afternoon, I was in a frenzied rush trying to get my place spotless, make myself look presentable, and cook us a dinner, I hoped she'd enjoy. She arrived with a bottle of wine in hand, dressed more casually than I had ever seen her before. She was in jeans and a casual women's shirt. She had make-up on and her hair was down, but she didn't look as stunning or as sharp as she usually does. It didn't bother me. I sometimes look like steamed rolled trash, so I get the everyday look when you don't have to be all glamoured up for work or pleasure. I gave her a tour of the house and she complimented me, on doing well while trying to deal with work, kids, and life.

We ate dinner and talked, having a wonderful conversation. Even though it was very nerve-wracking to have her in my house, I was glad she was there. But after dinner, as we sat on my couch sipping wine, the night took a turn that left me even more unsure of where this was heading.

We sat on my love seat, opposite one another, angled to face each other more. We talked about everything from kids, to work, to money. Turns out, Jane was once married and divorced just as quickly. She married a guy she was in love with just after they both graduated from law school. But shortly into the marriage, the spark they once had, faded and they both chose different roads, so they split. She never had kids, and even though she had dated, she never found anyone she wanted to settle down with again and have a family life. I think it bothered her that at 40, she hadn't had the love and companionship she truly desired. But being in her line of work, she also saw the devastation, heartache, and vile disgusting things, people do to one another after love fades. And I think it probably hardened her to not take that risk. Can't say I blame her.

But here's where the night went sideways. Jane asked me, "Have you dated anyone since your divorce?"

My head sank and I didn't know how I should answer that, so I smiled and groaned out; "Yeah, but...."

"But, What?" She asked. "Was he a nice guy?"

I grit my teeth and kind of moaned aloud. I wasn't sure I wanted to tell her about Mary. I didn't want it to come off wrong. I thought about not being gender specific and just saying "It didn't work out"

I surely didn't want her to be running towards the door if she wasn't supportive of a different lifestyle. Or think negatively of me, if that wasn't her cup of tea. I decided in my quick thoughts that it would be best to tell her. I had nothing to hide and if she didn't like it. Oh Well!

I put my arm up on the back of the backside of the couch, took a long swig of wine, took a deep breath, looked into her eyes, and said; "We'll it wasn't he; it was a she. And it didn't quite go as planned."

"What?" she spoke out in surprise. "Tell me about it." She furthered. "I would have never expected that."

I kind of chuckled and bobbed and swayed my head up and down figuring out how to relate this story, without coming off as crass, or a nut job. Jane could tell I was holding back and not just coming right out with it.

She reached out her arm, placing her hand on top of mine along the backside of the couch. "It's okay," she said. "If you don't want to talk about it, I understand."

"No, I have no problem telling you about it. I just don't want you to think differently of me, or be scared I'm trying to hit on you." I spoke.

"Please, girl." She chuckled. "At least someone would be hitting on me if you did," she related.

She was being sarcastic and funny and we both got a chuckle out of it. I felt more comfortable with her, knowing she wasn't heading for the door, screaming in fear that I was some crazed lesbian.

In a reader's digest version, I told Jane that after the divorce, I wasn't looking forward to being single, but I surely wasn't interested in immediately dating another man. I had just planned on being single, getting my life organized, and then seeing where life took me. However, in an unexpected meeting, I met Mary. How we had run into each other three times in the store. First by the clothing racks, then in line, and then in the parking lot, and since we both had children roughly the same age, we exchanged numbers and started hanging out. I furthered with as time went on, our closeness, communication, and interests grew and eventually, we kissed, which developed into more intimate things and eventually led to sex. Which led us to dating for a while.

"How long did you date her?" Jane asked.

"Just over 8 months or so, from our first kiss, until the end," I replied.

"Did you love her?" Jane asked.

"I can say I was in love with her in many ways, but I don't know if I was in love with her, like to get married or anything like that."

"Why did it end?" Jane asked.

I told Jane, "Mary was very fearful of coming out. Her parents and family were very conservative and she would have never been able to fully commit herself to me, or us. And I don't know if I would have been either. So, it was best we both just walked away."

"Are you a lesbian now?" Jane asked.

"No, I don't think so," I replied. "Truthfully, I had a lot of fantasies of women shortly before Mary, and I got to experience something, I never would have thought would happen. I liked it. And I enjoyed our times together both in and out of the bedroom. And the more time we were together, the more comfortable I was with it. And the more I became accustomed to being sexually active with a woman.

"Was she a closet lesbian or something?" Jane asked.

"No. She told me she had one experience just after high school, but it was a drunken thing. I don't think she ever believed she was a lesbian. I think this whole thing took us both by surprise. And probably was one of the reasons that it fell apart," was my reply.

The whole time we talked about my experiences with Mary, I happened to notice that Janes's hand was still on top of mine. In a loving supportive way. And from time to time, I caught myself rubbing her fingers alongside her hand, in a seductive, finger-play style. I wasn't doing it on purpose. I'm sure however, subconsciously I wanted to show her I was attracted to her, appreciated her being there, listening to me, and maybe in some round-a-bout way letting her know I had an interest without making some formal move. What surprised me even more, is that on occasion, I would feel her fingers rubbing along mine. We even had interlocked fingers at one point, holding hands, so I felt very comfortable sharing my experiences with her.

Jane had question after question and even apologized before asking some of them because they were a bit personal and deep, and she was very curious about the sex Mary and I had. Questions like; what it was like, and how we did it? And I answered all of them as openly and honestly as I could. I didn't want to make it seem like some rendition of a porn movie, but I was trying to be truthful and expose as much I could; in a polite, adult manner.

One of Jane's last questions to me was; "Why did you decide to try dating a woman? If you never, did it before?"

My bold response was; "One, I hated men. Two, I had an ongoing sexual fantasy about a woman I was dealing with personally, and three, I had a great lawyer who once said to me; "Some of her clients became lesbians after divorce." So, I figured, why not?

Jane started to ask me, which lawyer, but then I think it dawned on her, she was that lawyer. But then she snickered and said; "Yeah, I guess I did say that. Didn't I?"

Through it all Jane and I held hands, teared up, and went through a deep talk, that sometimes women need to do. I knew it was a heartfelt need to know more about me and the experience I had. I felt her honesty and openness about her life and how she never obtained the things she wanted. In some ways, I wasn't sure if my story enlightened her, turned her on, or just allowed her to hear a lesbian tale firsthand. But we shared something that night, that most people don't. It was a sincere time together, talking, becoming closer, and sharing deep feelings.

Just as we finished our second bottle of wine Jane asked me, "Would you do it again?"

I thought about it for a moment and replied; "Yes. But only with the right person."

A little while Jane decided it was time for her to go. As I walked her to the door, she complimented me several more times on my house, my strength, my ability to balance life, and the wonderful dinner and chat we had. I was happy she had been there and that I got to know more about her. But the more I knew, the more we touched hands, and the more we shared, it just reignited my lust for her. It's one thing to fantasize about someone you'll probably never be with, but it's another when they are standing in your house.

Jane put her coat on, swung her purse over her shoulder, and pulled me in for a very long deep hug. We stood in silence for more than two minutes just holding each other and I was basking in the warmth of just holding her. As she started to pull away, I stopped the momentum and gave her a short, closed-lip kiss on her lips. I placed my hands on her cheeks, looked her deeply into her eyes, and thanked her for coming. Thanked her for being so supportive, open, and understanding and for being a friend.

Jane smiled as she walked out the door, looking back at me, and waving goodbye as the screen door shut. I stood there watching her quickly walking down my sidewalk and getting into her car. As the lights came on and the brake lights lit up, she pulled away.

I shut the door and felt like I wanted to cry. I was so overwhelmed that she had been here. That I opened up about my lesbian relationship. That Jane had held my hand as was there for me. It was a heartwarming feeling to have a loving, developing friendship, that might never have boundaries. The perfect start, with the hope of years of trust and appreciation that would follow.

How all the time I had longed for her sexually, was now way more than that. Maybe it wasn't the sex, maybe it was just her presence in my life. Either way that long hug, the brief compassionate "thank you" kiss that I placed on her lips, and my words following figured to be the best ending I could have ever imagined.

I cleaned up the wine glasses threw out the bottles and started making my way to bed. I hadn't planned on masturbating about her or being some freak show fingering myself, because I didn't get any while she was there. I just wanted to go to sleep. I crawled into bed in just my maroon panties, since no one else was home. It's how I prefer to sleep, but with children around, a rarity to say the least.

As I lay there thinking more about our conversation and recalling some of the questions she asked me, I felt relieved that I had finally spoken about Mary. About the sex. About the love we had. About her friendship. And as saddened as I was that she was gone from my life, I also felt the excitement of knowing I could find caring, loving adults - sexual or not -who would want to be in my life.

But two questions she asked me, kept resonating in my head. "Are you a lesbian now?" And; "Would you do it again?"

Both questions spawned a host of feelings and emotions in my heart and sent my mind searching for answers. Was I? Did my time with Mary change me so dramatically, that all I would want are women now?

It felt natural to say, yes. My body said, yes. After all, I spent 8 months sleeping with a woman. No regrets, no remorse. And as accepting as it was for my heart, my brain wouldn't agree. I kept thinking of that first kiss with Mary. How shaky and trembling our lips were when our tongues first met. How nervous I was. How my stomach was doing flips. How exciting, different, and unique it was the first time I slid down her panties, seeing her pussy, kissing my way up to it. Only to put my lips on another woman's vagina and start pleasing her.

How erotic it was seeing her eyes looking over my stomach and breasts, as she was pleasing mine. How wet I would get. How many different positions we had tried. How many times, I would hear her moaning my name as she was cumming. And me screaming out hers.

My thoughts turned back to Jane. How I had fantasized about being on my knees in her office as her bare ass was sitting on the edge of her desk. My mind would fill in what her pussy looked like, but either way, I'd be licking, slurping, and sucking on it, while she was getting closer to cumming. How I wanted to finger her until she begged me to stop. How I'd finger myself thinking about her pleasing me.

How tonight her presence lifted my mood and spirits. How I told her about having a lesbian relationship. How her hand was on top of mine. How our fingers rubbed against each other's. How we held hands for a bit. How attuned and attentive she was. How many questions she asked me, not to be perverted or make me feel uncomfortable but for her curiosity and understanding. How that hallway kiss, didn't appear to freak her out.

Perhaps how my newfound sense of being a powerful assertive woman, may have just surpassed her powerful, assertive personality.

Maybe the question she asked needed to be answered by me truthfully. Maybe I am a lesbian. My thoughts kept revolving around the last months of my life. Did I like pussy more than dick? Truthfully, that's all I was getting was pussy. All I wanted was pussy. I wasn't even looking for men. I was dating Mary and loved every minute of sleeping with her. I liked kissing her. I liked playing with her tits. I liked going down on her. I got really accustomed to it. I may have truly liked it more than a dick in my mouth. I got excited and aroused by it. I loved licking her, swirling my tongue on her clit. How sensual, sexual, secretive, and taboo it was. How naughty and erotic we made it.

I began asking myself those two questions again and again. And each time I answered the voice in my head got louder and bolder as if Jane was still there awaiting my answers. "Yes, Jane. I am a lesbian now! Yes, Jane, I would do it again with the right person. "Yes, Jane - in short - I would rather be eating pussy, than sucking dick. Yes, Jane. I want pussy!

"Your Pussy Jane. So, yes! yes! And yes."

And those thoughts, that voice, those emotions, that acceptance, and that excitement got me wetter than I could have imagined. My mouth was starting to water, my nipples were hard and my loins were aching. I slid my hand down into my panties and kept moaning out "Yes Jane Yes!" As my fingers swirled around my clit. "I am a lesbian," I screamed out.

"Yes, yes and yes. For you, YES!

The more I moaned out, "I am a lesbian. I love pussy. I want pussy." The more my body quivered. The more I heard my voice say it, the more I needed it. The more I said it, the hotter those moments with Mary became. The more I said it, the more I wanted it. The more I said it, the more I knew I needed it on a serious basis. The more I said it, the more my fingers rubbed harder and deeper to please myself, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm and the more my brain finally got with the program.

"Yes, Jane. I will be your lesbian lover. Please come take me. Ravage me, do anything to me, I just want your pussy." Came flying out of my mouth. "Yes, Jane! I am a lesbian!"

I slid one finger inside me, then two. I went to a vision of seeing her eyes looking up across my stomach and over my tits, seeing my eyes glaze over with excitement, in the instant I was about to cum on her face. I ripped off my panties and spread my legs wide open, fingering myself imagining it was her fingers deep inside of me. Envisioning it was her tongue that was swirling around my opening. I could feel the warmth of her breath seeping from her nose as she licked me, encompassing her whole mouth over my opening. How I would tremble and shake moaning her name.

Only for us to continue after I exploded, by her climbing up on top of me and ramming her pussy down on my face as it ate her out. How I could feel her wetness, taste her juices, and stick my tongue in as deep as I could.