The outlines for this story began as a fantasy my wife had about a woman that she once met through work. Whilst nothing beyond them spending an evening together happened it provided us with a great deal of fun fantasising about what we both wished might have been.
The following forms the first part of a subsequent extrapolation of those fantasies.
Helpful comments and criticism welcome, but plain abuse will be deleted.
If you don't like stories containing elements of lesbian domination and submission just move on.
All characters are over 18 and completely fictitious.
All rights reserved by the author.
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Rebekah had never understood the strange obsession that Tom and his colleagues had for what was now simply an excuse to get drunk. Was it 'the old boys' network she wondered, although in fairness none of them were in their 50s - well at least not yet. She also had to admit that in the early days of the 'last Friday of the Month bash,' while the drinks always flowed freely, there was also plenty of dancing and friendly banter and when the husbands talked shop the wives would either catchup on each other's lives or more often than not just carry on dancing.
All in all, it seemed that everyone had a good time back then but slowly the wives' attendance began to slowly ebb; a sudden domestic issue, maybe being let down by the babysitter, perhaps a diary clash, slowly the female numbers fell, and it seemed, as a direct consequence of that, the drinking levels increased.
Eventually, as she always knew it would, the night arrived when Rebekah found herself the only wife in attendance. For a while it was okay. The other husbands seemingly aware that she might be feeling a bit uncomfortable being bereft of female company spent a while flattering her, telling her that she looked as wonderful as ever etc; the typical flirty chat that she knew wasn't always totally innocent.
But then as time passed and the effects of alcohol consumed accumulated, the jokes got bluer, and the not so deft touches began. After one rather aggressive grope of her backside she decided she definitely needed a break and headed off to the ground floor restroom. Unfortunately, it was a rather busy night and when she reached the room it was already fairly full, with a rather long queue for the cubicles, so she decided to head up to the first floor knowing that it was generally less crowded up there.
The first floor was always a place where Rebekah felt the most comfortable when at the club. It was effectively a large hall split into two parts; one was the disco and dancefloor area complete with mirror ball; the other had a small central bar with a few stools, surrounded by comfy sofas with low coffee tables. As she walked from the top of the stairs and across to the floor's restroom she noticed a very pretty young blonde woman sitting on the other side of the bar. As the woman caught Rebekah's eye her face broke out in a huge smile, so she had returned the pleasantry, after all that was all it was, wasn't it?
Fortunately, the first-floor restroom wasn't as crowded as the one on the ground floor but there was still a small queue so to pass the time until a cubicle finally became free she spent the time looking around. There were plenty of mirrors all around the room so like many of the others she spent the wait checking on her appearance. At 5 foot 9 she was certainly one of the tallest women in there, mainly courtesy of her rather long, but elegant legs, and she also thought she was maybe one of the most attractive but probably not, given her age, not the prettiest. Her bright blue eyes always sparkled and according to Tom she had the sexiest lips he'd ever seen.
She flicked at her wavy blonde hair tumbling down her long neck to make sure it was landing on her shoulders in just the right way. Yes, she thought, even in a modest plain strappy dress, for a mid-forties mother of two grown up daughters, she was still looking pretty good and certainly far better than many of those in far more revealing outfits.
As she finally made her way back out into the bar area she had already decided to get herself a drink, find a comfortable sofa to sit on and watch the world go by, but what she saw suddenly stopped her in her tracks. The blonde woman was still there, but this time there was a man standing next to her leaning on the bar chatting to her; and that man was her husband Tom!
Normally she would have simply gone over to them and introduced herself, after all it was only her husband talking casually to another woman, but something told her that there was nothing innocent about what she was watching. As she slowly moved around the edge of the bar area keeping herself in the shadows, she realised that all the while the young woman was talking to Tom, her eyes were actually following Rebekah!
Tom was already fairly drunk of course; by this time of the night, he generally was. He was swaying slightly as he leant on the bar, and clearly didn't notice that most of the woman's attention was not on him but on his wife. Under her gaze, Rebekah saw him reaching out with one hand trying to place it on the woman's shoulder. Twice she gently moved her shoulder away, but Tom continued to pester her and eventually she seemed to give up and let it rest there.
Rebekah watched on in amazement as her husband's hand wandered down from the pretty young woman's shoulder, onto her back and then out of sight, leaving her to only wonder just where it had come to rest. On her lower back perhaps or maybe even on her backside! Even when the young woman laughingly declined whatever it was he whispered in her ear, he still took out his wallet, giving her one of his business cards, before leaning in, trying to steal a quick kiss on her lips. However, she quickly turned her head away leaving him with only a peck on her cheek.
Tom's departure was hurried, him looking around furtively as he made his way back to the 'boys'! While Rebekah's eyes were locked on Tom, watching him scurrying across the floor and away down the stairs she didn't look back at her husband's apparent prey. Had she done so, she might have noticed that the young woman wasn't watching Tom. Rather she still had her eyes firmly fixed on Rebekah, carefully studying the older woman's reactions to what had just transpired.
Initially Rebekah remained in the shadows staring vacantly at the empty space on the stairs that had swallowed her husband. Her mind felt scrambled, a gamut of emotions swirled round and around in her head creating an enormous cloud of confusion. Obviously she felt anger at what she could only assume was her husband's 'straying'; fear for what it might mean for their future; embarrassment that sooner or later she might appear to have been a rather naïve wife; and jealousy at the possibility of being replaced by a 'younger model!'
However, what was most surprising of all to her was the strange surge of sexual desire that she was also feeling. As she ran through the possible reasons for this sudden re-awakening of her libido Rebekah started moving towards the stairs wondering if these feelings were for Tom; after all, that would perhaps be a possible reaction of a wife who had just witnessed her husband's possible infidelity. But she knew it was not. If anything, the incident had just poured even more cold water on what were already the smouldering ashes of their sexual relationship. At that moment the thought of having sex with her husband even made her shudder with disgust.
As she began descending the wide stairway she wondered if it was maybe all to do with the pretty young woman. Again, it would seem a reasonable reaction for a wronged partner she thought. To turn it into some kind of competition, an 'I bet I can fuck her better than you can' one. She had to stifle a giggle at the thought. It was of course ridiculous, after all she had never even thought about a lesbian fling let alone experienced anything close to one. Would she even know what to do!?
When she reached the main bar floor she paused. On the way down she had already located the 'boys', their drunken raucous laughter clearly audible even in the noisy packed bar, but she still had no idea of how to approach Tom and if she did at that moment in time she didn't know how she might react, so she let her thoughts turn back to the pretty woman.
'What was it that Katie had said about being with another woman?' Katie, apart from being her best friend, was the only person she knew who'd had an actual lesbian experience although she had always been reticent to talk about it beyond admitting to the fact that it happened. Katie had told her it had all been very natural; "I guess as a woman you know instinctively how you like being pleased so you should know how to please another woman" she had once explained. 'Len Barry,' as Katie jokingly called it, as in 'it's easy, 1-2-3!'
During her junior athletics career the pubescent Rebekah had looked at other girls but only in a competitive way. She had never once wondered what it would be like to have sex with them, but then the boys were a whole different kettle of fish. Even back then everyone was wearing Lycra and the tight running outfits didn't leave much to her adolescent imagination, especially with the males.
'But how about THAT woman?' Rebekah hadn't felt any particular spark when she first saw her although she did have a lingering memory of her lovely warm smile. Did it mean more than just a simple pleasantry as she had initially assumed and why was the young woman staring at her all the time her husband had been chatting her up? 'Well, there's only one way to find out' she thought and started making her way back up the stairs.
It was only when she reached the top and saw the empty seat where the woman had just been sitting that she suddenly realised what a stupid line of reasoning she had just embarked upon. What the hell was she thinking! Her, a conservative middle-aged married woman seemingly lusting after a woman who was probably not only young enough to be her daughter, well at least biologically, but who could also even be her husband's bit on the side or maybe more!' Those last few words hit her like a ton of bricks. 'Could it possibly be that Tom might actually leave her for this woman?!'
30 minutes later sitting on one of the comfy sofas, a large white wine already consumed and another sitting on the coffee table in front of her, Rebekah had finally managed to stop shaking and had regained some of her composure. However, the uncovering of this newfound 'sexual desire' still remained a constant conundrum.
She thought back to the rare girl's nights out, when the talk at some point would inevitably turn to sex and/or the lack of it. It seemed in these conversations that 'great' sex was a rarity and 'vanilla' sex was as good as one could reasonably expect. Was it that she had suddenly become the only one of them who had now begun to wish for more? Not just more often as one or two of them regularly said they did, but different; with more excitement, more passion, perhaps something a bit more... a bit more... she struggled to find the right word... Wild? Raw? Base? Erotic?... Nasty even!?
