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Lesbian Stories
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Lesbian Female / 28
Now That I'm Married
I worked with a financial publishing house in the book editing department. It's not glamorous, it's a job. A girl who worked with me asked me to go to a happy hour at this new place that was opening. I went not to hurt her feelings. It was a girl's night opening and the place was flooded with women. One came over and asked me to dance and my coworker pushed me out there and after I got back to the table there was another girl there talking to her and my dance partner sat down too. She held my hand and played with my ring finger and asked how come I wasn't married. I told her I was 23 and I hadn't met Mr. Right and she laughed and said that maybe I had met Miss Right. A week later we got married on the run at the court house.
I was not a total neophyte in the bedroom but she took it the next stage. She wanted 'it all' and she took it. I could hardly stand from the way she was triggering orgasms. She showed me how to trigger her and I got her off in staccato machine gun orgasm. One week later we started to let people know that we had gotten married.
She worked for a big oil and gas company and with our marriage license she put me on their benefit plan which was much better than mine. We went down to the driver's license office and changed my name to hers, same with the Social Security and then sent in to get my passport changed. In three months everything except my college graduation certificate had her name on it and I was signing and calling myself with my new married name. She continued to be a sexual tigress and she wanted to try everything. I wanted snuggling and cuddling and long kisses. I could do oral but I preferred her on me than me on her. Kisses were enough, going deep wasn't, but I did it. I never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would lay between her legs and examine her like a new doctor studying anatomy. Every fold, every bump, every hole. I looked into her vagina before putting my tongue into it.
All of a sudden I wanted it memorialized. In a painting. A great big crotch painting of her, to put over our bed. We settled for a small 10X10 charcoal, and she felt very uncomfortable letting a woman sketch her, although the sketch is erotic and I love having it. She wasn't all that much into sharing with others, what was mine was mine, for me to enjoy, but not share like that. The sketch is in our bedroom, on my nigh table, where I can go to sleep thinking of her.
The topic came up at breakfast on Sunday. What if we had a baby or two, did I think we were good enough to be parents. I asked her who did she think should make them, and she said that both of us, one each, that was what she was thinking of. We had been married less than a year and she wanted us to get pregnant. Did we really want to start a family? I was going to turn 24 and she was 27. But this was the best age to get pregnant. So, let's have a baby. We did, we got pregnant with a friendly donor who has first rights as a father. All of a sudden an apartment wouldn't do, we needed a house but we couldn't afford one. So our baby daddy had to step in and help us. Things had become very complicated. We were both going to be off work at the same time and then there was the whole thing of who stayed home and who went back to work (me, she had the big paying job at the oil company).
I grew huge boobs, enough to feed two babies. She called them my pillows, for the babies to rest their head after nursing. She took a million pictures of the babies, and that included pictures of me nursing. Now who was upset about 'sharing' ? pictures with babies on my tits.
Two years later and we are still adapting, the babies are still in diapers but walking and talking and sitting at the table, still playing house, still figuring out which way forward. I'm home with the babies, she wears the pants in the house and she brings home the bacon. I'm chief cook and bottle washer and can't be torn away from our babies. Baby Daddy comes around, but it's strictly to see his children. He contributes to us, we don't have a child support agreement. He picks up the bills for the big ticket items, rent and car payment, and we cover the rest.
Am I asking too much? I want a house of our own, that we have title to. I'll take a starter home in the suburbs, but I don't want a condo or townhouse, I want a yard for the babies. And a dog and Mother's Day and Christmas. I'm married, I don't do happy hours.
I was not a total neophyte in the bedroom but she took it the next stage. She wanted 'it all' and she took it. I could hardly stand from the way she was triggering orgasms. She showed me how to trigger her and I got her off in staccato machine gun orgasm. One week later we started to let people know that we had gotten married.
She worked for a big oil and gas company and with our marriage license she put me on their benefit plan which was much better than mine. We went down to the driver's license office and changed my name to hers, same with the Social Security and then sent in to get my passport changed. In three months everything except my college graduation certificate had her name on it and I was signing and calling myself with my new married name. She continued to be a sexual tigress and she wanted to try everything. I wanted snuggling and cuddling and long kisses. I could do oral but I preferred her on me than me on her. Kisses were enough, going deep wasn't, but I did it. I never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would lay between her legs and examine her like a new doctor studying anatomy. Every fold, every bump, every hole. I looked into her vagina before putting my tongue into it.
All of a sudden I wanted it memorialized. In a painting. A great big crotch painting of her, to put over our bed. We settled for a small 10X10 charcoal, and she felt very uncomfortable letting a woman sketch her, although the sketch is erotic and I love having it. She wasn't all that much into sharing with others, what was mine was mine, for me to enjoy, but not share like that. The sketch is in our bedroom, on my nigh table, where I can go to sleep thinking of her.
The topic came up at breakfast on Sunday. What if we had a baby or two, did I think we were good enough to be parents. I asked her who did she think should make them, and she said that both of us, one each, that was what she was thinking of. We had been married less than a year and she wanted us to get pregnant. Did we really want to start a family? I was going to turn 24 and she was 27. But this was the best age to get pregnant. So, let's have a baby. We did, we got pregnant with a friendly donor who has first rights as a father. All of a sudden an apartment wouldn't do, we needed a house but we couldn't afford one. So our baby daddy had to step in and help us. Things had become very complicated. We were both going to be off work at the same time and then there was the whole thing of who stayed home and who went back to work (me, she had the big paying job at the oil company).
I grew huge boobs, enough to feed two babies. She called them my pillows, for the babies to rest their head after nursing. She took a million pictures of the babies, and that included pictures of me nursing. Now who was upset about 'sharing' ? pictures with babies on my tits.
Two years later and we are still adapting, the babies are still in diapers but walking and talking and sitting at the table, still playing house, still figuring out which way forward. I'm home with the babies, she wears the pants in the house and she brings home the bacon. I'm chief cook and bottle washer and can't be torn away from our babies. Baby Daddy comes around, but it's strictly to see his children. He contributes to us, we don't have a child support agreement. He picks up the bills for the big ticket items, rent and car payment, and we cover the rest.
Am I asking too much? I want a house of our own, that we have title to. I'll take a starter home in the suburbs, but I don't want a condo or townhouse, I want a yard for the babies. And a dog and Mother's Day and Christmas. I'm married, I don't do happy hours.
