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Lesbian Stories
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Lesbian Female / 34
Living In Sin, Living In Bigamy, Two Wives, One Husband, Four Kids
After college and unattached I trolled lesbian chat sites. Some chats were women selling themselves, others were pure fantasy types. But one day I tripped on girl who said she was married with two kids and was looking for a lesbian friend she could talk with. After a while she told me she got pregnant by accident and got married. She now had two kids, three and eighteen months, but where she lived there were no girlfriends who understood her.
I talked to her for several weeks, I gave her my email, she shared her picture and pictures of her kids and her husband. They lived four hours from me. I fell in love with her with out meeting her. We shared phone numbers and talked daily. She told me on the phone she just wanted a girl who would love her, but she couldn't leave her husband. I grew more and more desperate for her. I realized, I could support her, I could love her.
I drove to her, unannounced, uninvited. She lived in a working class neighborhood. My car stood out from the pickups and SUVs, mostly older models dirty with dents and broken windshields. I hesitated, got my nerves together and walked up to her door.
The house was a mess, dirty dishes, dirty clothes on the floor. The kids were dirty, the house was a rental. One bathroom, three bedrooms. One bedroom had his drums. The master bedroom was small, the bed unmade. She was shocked and embarrassed. I was uncomfortable, I had made a mistake and I tried to leave but she held me back.
I started to clean the kitchen in spite of her telling me not to. I had to do something, I picked up clothes, and straightened out the den. They didn't have in unit laundry, chopped dishes, and old laptop in the bedroom. I thought to myself I knew I could do better, a much nicer house, nice furniture.
Her husband came home, camo jacket, work boots, large hands, he wanted to know who I was, what was I doing there? He asked me if I was with CPS. How do you tell a man you are there to take his wife away with you, to save her, protect her, love her. You can't, you keep your mouth shut.
We had a simple dinner, he insisted on Grace and we held hands, the first time I touched her. She fed the kids and talked a mile a minute, told her husband I was spending the night with them. He would have to sleep on the couch and I would sleep with her.
The kids in bed, her husband on his drums, she leaned against me, she asked me to kiss her. I tried to tell her I was prepared to stay at a hotel, but I didn't want to. Kissing her was a mistake, I agreed to stay with her. He took his pillow, we snuggled under the covers, kissed for long minutes. Her hands under my gown, my hand between her legs, lost in lovemaking.
Her husband woke me up. It was early morning. He shoved my gown up, I had lost my panties earlier. He was quick and intent and between my legs he took care of his business.
I moved to her town, got a job at the utility. With another salary we moved to a nice place with two bathrooms and laundry. We share all the house hold duties, she's the at home Mom and sleeps in the middle. We have a plural set up, bigamy, polygamy. I've gotten used to him, he's a good man, I wish he had college but I'm not complaining. He works for the utility, a field technician and his I work in the office.
I brought my dishes and good linens, I love dressing the kids. I married her, which makes it bigamy. But we don't care, we're married and I can take care of her. He's 'the husband', master of his domain, father of all the children.
I talked to her for several weeks, I gave her my email, she shared her picture and pictures of her kids and her husband. They lived four hours from me. I fell in love with her with out meeting her. We shared phone numbers and talked daily. She told me on the phone she just wanted a girl who would love her, but she couldn't leave her husband. I grew more and more desperate for her. I realized, I could support her, I could love her.
I drove to her, unannounced, uninvited. She lived in a working class neighborhood. My car stood out from the pickups and SUVs, mostly older models dirty with dents and broken windshields. I hesitated, got my nerves together and walked up to her door.
The house was a mess, dirty dishes, dirty clothes on the floor. The kids were dirty, the house was a rental. One bathroom, three bedrooms. One bedroom had his drums. The master bedroom was small, the bed unmade. She was shocked and embarrassed. I was uncomfortable, I had made a mistake and I tried to leave but she held me back.
I started to clean the kitchen in spite of her telling me not to. I had to do something, I picked up clothes, and straightened out the den. They didn't have in unit laundry, chopped dishes, and old laptop in the bedroom. I thought to myself I knew I could do better, a much nicer house, nice furniture.
Her husband came home, camo jacket, work boots, large hands, he wanted to know who I was, what was I doing there? He asked me if I was with CPS. How do you tell a man you are there to take his wife away with you, to save her, protect her, love her. You can't, you keep your mouth shut.
We had a simple dinner, he insisted on Grace and we held hands, the first time I touched her. She fed the kids and talked a mile a minute, told her husband I was spending the night with them. He would have to sleep on the couch and I would sleep with her.
The kids in bed, her husband on his drums, she leaned against me, she asked me to kiss her. I tried to tell her I was prepared to stay at a hotel, but I didn't want to. Kissing her was a mistake, I agreed to stay with her. He took his pillow, we snuggled under the covers, kissed for long minutes. Her hands under my gown, my hand between her legs, lost in lovemaking.
Her husband woke me up. It was early morning. He shoved my gown up, I had lost my panties earlier. He was quick and intent and between my legs he took care of his business.
I moved to her town, got a job at the utility. With another salary we moved to a nice place with two bathrooms and laundry. We share all the house hold duties, she's the at home Mom and sleeps in the middle. We have a plural set up, bigamy, polygamy. I've gotten used to him, he's a good man, I wish he had college but I'm not complaining. He works for the utility, a field technician and his I work in the office.
I brought my dishes and good linens, I love dressing the kids. I married her, which makes it bigamy. But we don't care, we're married and I can take care of her. He's 'the husband', master of his domain, father of all the children.
