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When I Was A Kid
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Bi-Sexual Female / 37
The Distant Past No Longer Matters, What Matters Is What I Have Now
Things of the past. I lost my virginity when I was eleven. The next day the man who did it was found drowned in the canal. He had a blood alcohol level of .16 and it looked like he had hurt his head. He was my mother's current boyfriend.
When I was 22 I worked for a company and the owner liked me. He would touch me, my arm, my back, right above my butt crack. He liked me to wear soft sweaters and very sheer bras, he liked my nipples showing. He had me shave myself, so my lips were totally visible and the only pubes I had were a small tuft, like a small mustache. When he wanted to eat me he wanted to see my naked pussy, eat me until I flowered and opened up. I loved it when he fucked me, I felt complete, his. One night after he fucked me I rolled over and laid my head on his chest and told him about losing my virginity. Something no one knew, except my mother, but not my older sister, or anyone else. It was a secret and he was dead.
The next day he told me he wanted me to come out to his house, he wanted me to talk to his wife. She tolerated our affair at work, but she wasn't one to talk to me. He said I had to talk to her, to let it all out. Every last bit of it, until it was out and gone forever, something I should only talk about with a woman, and the only woman he could trust was his wife.
He left us in the kitchen and went upstairs to watch TV. She made some tea, and sat down with me and she held my hands. "Sweetheart, my dearest baby, you live in my heart. I am here for you, today or tomorrow, whenever you are ready to talk about it. But please know that these are poisons and you have to let them out."
I told her, like telling a story. It was so long ago and it never bothered me, where I grew up lots of girls got r**ed, some talked and got in trouble. The rest of us kept it to ourselves. She held my hand softly, her hand was warm and I started talking. I told her about the fight with my mother and how he beat her up and then came to my room, if she wasn't going to have sex with him then he would have sex with me. He didn't touch my older sister. He left calling her names and other stuff. My mother came to my bed and she slept with me. In the morning she looked bruised and beaten. Then we heard that he had been found in the canal.
She told me that I could trust her and she would always be there for me. That she loved me and wanted the best for me. It was only later that I understood that when she said she loved me, she meant loved me like one woman for another. After that day, when I told him, things changed, I became more like a daughter to him, and he wanted to make love to me very gently and show me how much he cared. His wife called me and we started to go out, our favorite place was a lesbian lunch place. Where we could be two women and no one cared. She held my hand when we talked, she kissed me when we met, she kissed me when we had to part. She told me she loved and pulled me against her and held me for a minute or more. It was at one of those lunches that she told me that if I wasn't her husband's girlfriend then she would want me to be her girlfriend.
I went through therapy with a woman, it took a lot of energy for me to go. It helped a little, made it something that was in the past, that I had to let go. She sat in the waiting room until my hour was up. One day she asked me if I wanted to have children. That she and her husband had talked about that. She wanted me to know that she was all for it. And that she would help with a baby, or babies, and she would love them as if they were her own. As the months passed her need to love me closely became greater, to hold me and to sleep with me. If her husband wanted to sleep with me, she would wait until he went back to his room, then she would come and sleep with me the rest of the night. She started making love to me, and I started to like it, to want her to make love to me. When she made love to me I floated, I could feel how much she loved me.
I am 37 years old now, with three children. She and I live together with our children. When he visits and he sits at the table to talk to us, we stop what we are doing and listen. If he reached for us to hold us we let him, if he wants to kiss us we let him, if he wants to make love to us we let him. But he goes home and we live together with our children.
When I was 22 I worked for a company and the owner liked me. He would touch me, my arm, my back, right above my butt crack. He liked me to wear soft sweaters and very sheer bras, he liked my nipples showing. He had me shave myself, so my lips were totally visible and the only pubes I had were a small tuft, like a small mustache. When he wanted to eat me he wanted to see my naked pussy, eat me until I flowered and opened up. I loved it when he fucked me, I felt complete, his. One night after he fucked me I rolled over and laid my head on his chest and told him about losing my virginity. Something no one knew, except my mother, but not my older sister, or anyone else. It was a secret and he was dead.
The next day he told me he wanted me to come out to his house, he wanted me to talk to his wife. She tolerated our affair at work, but she wasn't one to talk to me. He said I had to talk to her, to let it all out. Every last bit of it, until it was out and gone forever, something I should only talk about with a woman, and the only woman he could trust was his wife.
He left us in the kitchen and went upstairs to watch TV. She made some tea, and sat down with me and she held my hands. "Sweetheart, my dearest baby, you live in my heart. I am here for you, today or tomorrow, whenever you are ready to talk about it. But please know that these are poisons and you have to let them out."
I told her, like telling a story. It was so long ago and it never bothered me, where I grew up lots of girls got r**ed, some talked and got in trouble. The rest of us kept it to ourselves. She held my hand softly, her hand was warm and I started talking. I told her about the fight with my mother and how he beat her up and then came to my room, if she wasn't going to have sex with him then he would have sex with me. He didn't touch my older sister. He left calling her names and other stuff. My mother came to my bed and she slept with me. In the morning she looked bruised and beaten. Then we heard that he had been found in the canal.
She told me that I could trust her and she would always be there for me. That she loved me and wanted the best for me. It was only later that I understood that when she said she loved me, she meant loved me like one woman for another. After that day, when I told him, things changed, I became more like a daughter to him, and he wanted to make love to me very gently and show me how much he cared. His wife called me and we started to go out, our favorite place was a lesbian lunch place. Where we could be two women and no one cared. She held my hand when we talked, she kissed me when we met, she kissed me when we had to part. She told me she loved and pulled me against her and held me for a minute or more. It was at one of those lunches that she told me that if I wasn't her husband's girlfriend then she would want me to be her girlfriend.
I went through therapy with a woman, it took a lot of energy for me to go. It helped a little, made it something that was in the past, that I had to let go. She sat in the waiting room until my hour was up. One day she asked me if I wanted to have children. That she and her husband had talked about that. She wanted me to know that she was all for it. And that she would help with a baby, or babies, and she would love them as if they were her own. As the months passed her need to love me closely became greater, to hold me and to sleep with me. If her husband wanted to sleep with me, she would wait until he went back to his room, then she would come and sleep with me the rest of the night. She started making love to me, and I started to like it, to want her to make love to me. When she made love to me I floated, I could feel how much she loved me.
I am 37 years old now, with three children. She and I live together with our children. When he visits and he sits at the table to talk to us, we stop what we are doing and listen. If he reached for us to hold us we let him, if he wants to kiss us we let him, if he wants to make love to us we let him. But he goes home and we live together with our children.
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