Lesbian Female / 29
I grew in anywhere USA, had a normal life. I dated but mostly friends. I made out, and in college I let a guy make love to me. I married out of a feeling that is what I needed to do. I never found any pleasure in having sex, although I always let my husband have sex. I did what he wanted, but never felt anything, no desire. I felt I was just asexual.
At work I had friend, she was exotic, from Brazil. He skin was dark, she was slender and wore her hair long. Her mouth always seemed to be pouting. We became friends.
One weekend she was at our house and we were in my room and she had on a jean skirt and sat on the bed and I could see her orange panties just beneath the hem line. She would move from time to time and her hem lime would move and I could see more of her panties. She laid back on the bed with her hand under her head and her hem line moved up and I could see the outline of her pussy crack against her panties. I couldn't look in her eyes, I kept looking at her pussy. I wanted to see her pussy, without her panties, was it dark or was it like mine, I could see the outline of her pubic hair under her panties, and the stubble along her legs. I could feel myself, I was wet.
I tried to put it out of my mind, but I couldn't. I looked up at her, her small breasts tight against her chest, her perfect lips, I wondered who had kissed them, and who had touched her, who had gone down on her.
The moment passed, but not the feeling or the image, I could see her panties with my eyes closed. When my husband made love to me that night I imagined him penetrating her, spreading her lips open and shoving his penis in her. I fantasized about her and had my first orgasm.
At work I could no longer see her the same, I wanted to touch her, to smooth her hair, to help arrange her clothes, to sit beside her, to just be with her. I became possessive to the point that she felt uncomfortable. I wanted nothing other than to be with her. She was oblivious to my stares, I loved to watch her walk towards me, with her tight pants. I felt like getting on my knees and her walking up to my face and taking my head and pulling it hard against her.
Something had happened to me. Something had woken up. I wanted to be with her, I wanted her to be with me at night, I wanted to hold her. I wanted to kiss her lips, I wanted to see her nipples, were they dark like her, or were they small like erasers like mine.
But no obsession brought her close to me like that. It was sometime later that I gave into these feelings and went down on a girl from my gym. I ate her pussy always only thinking of my friend from work. I ate her with a vengeance, and I got on top of her and sucked hard on her nipples, she told me I was hurting her, but I didn't care.
It doesn't help to know what I want and what I desire, if I can't have her. This must be what being in love is, but it is not that, it is a desire to just be with her, to put my mouth on her and taste her. I want to be with her.
I know what I am now. I know what my husbands sees when he looks at me, I just wish it was me looking at her and me the one bending over her to get on her instead of my husband bending over me to get on me.
At work I had friend, she was exotic, from Brazil. He skin was dark, she was slender and wore her hair long. Her mouth always seemed to be pouting. We became friends.
One weekend she was at our house and we were in my room and she had on a jean skirt and sat on the bed and I could see her orange panties just beneath the hem line. She would move from time to time and her hem lime would move and I could see more of her panties. She laid back on the bed with her hand under her head and her hem line moved up and I could see the outline of her pussy crack against her panties. I couldn't look in her eyes, I kept looking at her pussy. I wanted to see her pussy, without her panties, was it dark or was it like mine, I could see the outline of her pubic hair under her panties, and the stubble along her legs. I could feel myself, I was wet.
I tried to put it out of my mind, but I couldn't. I looked up at her, her small breasts tight against her chest, her perfect lips, I wondered who had kissed them, and who had touched her, who had gone down on her.
The moment passed, but not the feeling or the image, I could see her panties with my eyes closed. When my husband made love to me that night I imagined him penetrating her, spreading her lips open and shoving his penis in her. I fantasized about her and had my first orgasm.
At work I could no longer see her the same, I wanted to touch her, to smooth her hair, to help arrange her clothes, to sit beside her, to just be with her. I became possessive to the point that she felt uncomfortable. I wanted nothing other than to be with her. She was oblivious to my stares, I loved to watch her walk towards me, with her tight pants. I felt like getting on my knees and her walking up to my face and taking my head and pulling it hard against her.
Something had happened to me. Something had woken up. I wanted to be with her, I wanted her to be with me at night, I wanted to hold her. I wanted to kiss her lips, I wanted to see her nipples, were they dark like her, or were they small like erasers like mine.
But no obsession brought her close to me like that. It was sometime later that I gave into these feelings and went down on a girl from my gym. I ate her pussy always only thinking of my friend from work. I ate her with a vengeance, and I got on top of her and sucked hard on her nipples, she told me I was hurting her, but I didn't care.
It doesn't help to know what I want and what I desire, if I can't have her. This must be what being in love is, but it is not that, it is a desire to just be with her, to put my mouth on her and taste her. I want to be with her.
I know what I am now. I know what my husbands sees when he looks at me, I just wish it was me looking at her and me the one bending over her to get on her instead of my husband bending over me to get on me.
