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Lesbian Stories
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Lesbian Female / 25
My Story Up To Now
My mother is a later day hippy. She lived in Atitlan for a long time. She became pregnant with me by someone passing thru. After I was born she was told by a friend she needed to register me with the embassy, so I could be an American citizen. My mother was totally washed out, broke for money, with only a letter from the woman that delivered me. She was twenty. Ran away at sixteen.
At the embassy, a man doing business there in the waiting room felt sorry for my mother, or me. A baby in rags. He paid for someone to get some food for her, decided yo take her with him to clean her up. Took her and me to a doctor for a checkup. My mother hadn't seen a doctor since she ran away. Fortunately the birth was normal and her friend knew what to do. He decided to keep us, on a trial basis. He never asked us to leave. I grew up there, went to school, he recognized me as my father, married my mother a few years later. All was normal for me and my mother forgot about being a hippy. She was a society lady when I grew up.
Anyway, I went to a private Catholic school for rich kids. There were a few on scholarships, everyone knew who they were. One of them liked being close to me, physically close. We started to mess around, we became sexually involved. Until my father found out. The next day I was on a plane to a school in Switzerland. A reformatory for girls. I could only leave through a marriage. An arranged marriage. I was seventeen. I moved to Ottawa, then Bern, to New York, where I went to NYU.
My father sees me every other month, my mother twice a year. She still isn't over the disappointment in me. The hippy girl couldn't deal with my lesbian being, my conservative father could. My husband, don't ask. Suffice it to say it is a subject that never takes place.
I'm still married, my father is seventy five, my mother forty five, that makes me twenty five. I've been married eight years. I have a friend, female. We aren't exactly Mother Teresas, not with what we do. My marriage is pretty formal, my husband works at the UN. If my friend wasn't my friend I'd go crazy. When the cat's away we can play. We don't play peek a boo.
At the embassy, a man doing business there in the waiting room felt sorry for my mother, or me. A baby in rags. He paid for someone to get some food for her, decided yo take her with him to clean her up. Took her and me to a doctor for a checkup. My mother hadn't seen a doctor since she ran away. Fortunately the birth was normal and her friend knew what to do. He decided to keep us, on a trial basis. He never asked us to leave. I grew up there, went to school, he recognized me as my father, married my mother a few years later. All was normal for me and my mother forgot about being a hippy. She was a society lady when I grew up.
Anyway, I went to a private Catholic school for rich kids. There were a few on scholarships, everyone knew who they were. One of them liked being close to me, physically close. We started to mess around, we became sexually involved. Until my father found out. The next day I was on a plane to a school in Switzerland. A reformatory for girls. I could only leave through a marriage. An arranged marriage. I was seventeen. I moved to Ottawa, then Bern, to New York, where I went to NYU.
My father sees me every other month, my mother twice a year. She still isn't over the disappointment in me. The hippy girl couldn't deal with my lesbian being, my conservative father could. My husband, don't ask. Suffice it to say it is a subject that never takes place.
I'm still married, my father is seventy five, my mother forty five, that makes me twenty five. I've been married eight years. I have a friend, female. We aren't exactly Mother Teresas, not with what we do. My marriage is pretty formal, my husband works at the UN. If my friend wasn't my friend I'd go crazy. When the cat's away we can play. We don't play peek a boo.
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