Lesbian Female / 30
I will start with when I was 22 and I had moved into this apartment complex. Next door to me lived a girl who was 27 and she had a small dog and once in a while she asked me to look after the dog. This is how we became friends. She had a boyfriend of sorts, but I never met him.
One lazy Sunday, she asked me if I wanted to come over and have a salad and we could watch a movie. During the movie, we were both sitting on the couch, she started to tickle me and then she was on top of me and everything got real quiet. She moved her hands and put them on my boobs and felt me up gently while we looked into our eyes, I don't think we blinked. She undid my blouse and slipped her hands under my back and undid my bra and played with my boobs. She kissed my nipples and then we kissed.
We became lovers, we were hot and heavy, and we got to the point of lots of pda, holding hands, kissing in public, we wanted everyone who saw us to see that we were a couple. Those first few months it was nothing but sex, we copied what we saw, we watched a little lesbian porn, but mostly we read everything about lesbian sex. Reading it, out loud to each other, was enough to make you want to have an orgasm. She had a way of reading lesbian passages, looking at me as she read, licking her lips and feeling her own boobs, staring at me only to fall into these insatiable love making sessions.
But after a few months we cooled down, we "made love", we didn't have sex any more, we made love and slept together. We shopped together, we ate together, we slept together, and we made love. We moved in officially, we had a house warming party with friends, we established our "couple" identity.
Fast forward to me being 29. A man at work called me baby. The man at work ran his hand down my back and over my back end and told me he wanted to f me. Do you think I did anything? Nothing. I stood there while he rubbed my butt and called me baby and told me he wanted to f me.
I got into a hot and heavy sex relationship with him for a week. He f me so much that week, and I was so hot for it, that I never paid attention that I was going to get pregnant from it.
I was three weeks later that I confessed to my partner. Confessing to the person you love that you cheated on them, and then that you are pregnant from that affair, was devastating to her and to me. Having to sit and listen to her scream her head off at me, to call me names I deserved, to beg for forgiveness. In the end, she allowed me to keep the baby. We had never talked about being "parents", but now we were. This is our baby, how the baby came about is still a sore point, and I regret what happened. Now more than a year later, what I don't understand is how I succumbed. We have his agreement with him and my partner adopted my baby as her own and he gave up his parental rights.
One lazy Sunday, she asked me if I wanted to come over and have a salad and we could watch a movie. During the movie, we were both sitting on the couch, she started to tickle me and then she was on top of me and everything got real quiet. She moved her hands and put them on my boobs and felt me up gently while we looked into our eyes, I don't think we blinked. She undid my blouse and slipped her hands under my back and undid my bra and played with my boobs. She kissed my nipples and then we kissed.
We became lovers, we were hot and heavy, and we got to the point of lots of pda, holding hands, kissing in public, we wanted everyone who saw us to see that we were a couple. Those first few months it was nothing but sex, we copied what we saw, we watched a little lesbian porn, but mostly we read everything about lesbian sex. Reading it, out loud to each other, was enough to make you want to have an orgasm. She had a way of reading lesbian passages, looking at me as she read, licking her lips and feeling her own boobs, staring at me only to fall into these insatiable love making sessions.
But after a few months we cooled down, we "made love", we didn't have sex any more, we made love and slept together. We shopped together, we ate together, we slept together, and we made love. We moved in officially, we had a house warming party with friends, we established our "couple" identity.
Fast forward to me being 29. A man at work called me baby. The man at work ran his hand down my back and over my back end and told me he wanted to f me. Do you think I did anything? Nothing. I stood there while he rubbed my butt and called me baby and told me he wanted to f me.
I got into a hot and heavy sex relationship with him for a week. He f me so much that week, and I was so hot for it, that I never paid attention that I was going to get pregnant from it.
I was three weeks later that I confessed to my partner. Confessing to the person you love that you cheated on them, and then that you are pregnant from that affair, was devastating to her and to me. Having to sit and listen to her scream her head off at me, to call me names I deserved, to beg for forgiveness. In the end, she allowed me to keep the baby. We had never talked about being "parents", but now we were. This is our baby, how the baby came about is still a sore point, and I regret what happened. Now more than a year later, what I don't understand is how I succumbed. We have his agreement with him and my partner adopted my baby as her own and he gave up his parental rights.
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