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Women Only
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Lesbian Female / 30
A Belize Girl Story
My father was English, my mother Canadian. My father was older, actually in his sixties, and my mother a poor clerk in her twenties. They eloped and she followed him to Belize where he had an electronics shop. My mother became pregnant with me very early in the marriage. My father was the best father a little girl could want. My mother was sad, depressed, trapped in Belize with an old man and a child.
My father died one morning after breakfast. My mother called a friend to help her sell the shop, the house and other stuff, she wanted to return to Canada. Before her friend could make it to Belize a man, known to my mother and father stopped by and told her my father owed the government lots if money for unpaid taxes, and they were putting a lean on the shop and the house. My mother was broke, trapped in Belize without a job, and depressed. The man offered to take her in but he expected her to be a wife to him, have sex.
She had to accept and I grew up with my stepfather. When I was old enough he had me move in with his sister in the States, Texas, get a job and go to school. She was a nurse at an old folks home and worked shifts. She was also a lesbian, but in the closet. I worked as a sales clerk at a friend of hers shop. The shop sold lingerie to lesbians and gay men who dressed in ladies' underwear. Quite an education for a young girl.
I was pursued by more than one woman, but it was a man who got in my pants. He gave me the royal treatment. My hostess said it was ok, I couldn't help it. She had tried to introduce me to a variety of women. One of my female pursuers had very strong feelings for me and offered to marry me so I could get my US papers (born in Belize I had Belize citizenship). She promised to love me from afar, and I accepted. It took a couple of years to get my permanent green card, and a few more years to get citizenship.
Very quickly I went to her room and got in her bed and told her to do what she had to do to consummate the marriage. If she accepted me I would fake it. I've been faking it for ten years, by now I'm probably a real lesbian. My only sex with a man was that one time. I also finished college at a small Catholic University. My mother is a chronic depressive, still lives with my stepfather.
My father died one morning after breakfast. My mother called a friend to help her sell the shop, the house and other stuff, she wanted to return to Canada. Before her friend could make it to Belize a man, known to my mother and father stopped by and told her my father owed the government lots if money for unpaid taxes, and they were putting a lean on the shop and the house. My mother was broke, trapped in Belize without a job, and depressed. The man offered to take her in but he expected her to be a wife to him, have sex.
She had to accept and I grew up with my stepfather. When I was old enough he had me move in with his sister in the States, Texas, get a job and go to school. She was a nurse at an old folks home and worked shifts. She was also a lesbian, but in the closet. I worked as a sales clerk at a friend of hers shop. The shop sold lingerie to lesbians and gay men who dressed in ladies' underwear. Quite an education for a young girl.
I was pursued by more than one woman, but it was a man who got in my pants. He gave me the royal treatment. My hostess said it was ok, I couldn't help it. She had tried to introduce me to a variety of women. One of my female pursuers had very strong feelings for me and offered to marry me so I could get my US papers (born in Belize I had Belize citizenship). She promised to love me from afar, and I accepted. It took a couple of years to get my permanent green card, and a few more years to get citizenship.
Very quickly I went to her room and got in her bed and told her to do what she had to do to consummate the marriage. If she accepted me I would fake it. I've been faking it for ten years, by now I'm probably a real lesbian. My only sex with a man was that one time. I also finished college at a small Catholic University. My mother is a chronic depressive, still lives with my stepfather.
