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Lesbian Stories
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Lesbian Female / 39
I'm A Dyke, I Should Have Known But Didn't Want To Accept It
There is that moment when you realize that something is going to happen and you aren't sure if you are up to it. For me it wasn't when I was fourteen, or twenty four even. It was when I was 37.
At the time I was in Financial Reporting for Fortune 500, single, a professional. I had a group of friends, but never anything serious. My sexual expressions, were in the dark and all alone. I masturbated but did not use a dildo. And always, every time I felt bad afterwards. Enough that it kept me from masturbating for long stretches at a time.
I was never comfortable with my body, or my looks either. Part of the reason why I never dated, I was the ugly duckling at school, to lanky, flat chested, red hair and freckles. And I had developed an attitude. I worked hard at being the best in my class and getting straight As. I went to college on a full ride academic scholarship, got an MBA and a CPA and worked for a Big Accounting firm. After I had made Manager I went to work for the client. Still virgin, still masturbating and guilty. I bought some sexy underwear but never wore it. I watched porn but could not get into it. Lesbian porn was better, but those girls were way out of my league. I had determined that my leanings went towards women, I had lots of women friends and did not get along with men.
My job was in all woman's department. No one talked about it, but our boss was a lesbian. Being professionals we concentrated on the end product, and everyone kept their home life private. The married women and the lesbian women did not talk about it. Unprofessional, it was bad enough that we were women.
We had an acquisition that needed to be reported and I went to the head of M&A to get the information. He told me he was busy and to come back later. I told him I needed the information today, and later wasn't possible. He agreed but I had to go to lunch with him. We went to the Deli in the basement. He was reticent to share the information, mostly NOB answers. Then out of nowhere he asked me what it was like being a dyke.
I was flustered. He pressed and asked me why women like me always ate pussy. I tried to answer but he cut me off. He gave me the information that I needed, just barely enough. But I needed to start writing it up. On the elevator back up to our floors he held the door shut and asked me if I was always a dyke or if that was something that came with experience. I told him 'I'm not a dyke' in an uncontrolled voice. 'Yes you are' he answered. He let me out of the elevator but not without telling me 'if you aren't a dyke, come up and prove it'.
It was awful, terrible, scary, demeaning, everything negative you can attribute to it. He wasn't pleasant, he was proving something to me. No foreplay, not getting me hot, nothing. It was leaning against the window looking out of the building, and he rammed himself in me. 'Do you want the juice?' I didn't know what he was talking about. Too late, I got the juice all in me.
'Your a dyke' he told me. I protested and he told me to suck his dick. I didn't. I got myself together, went to the women's rest room and fixed my hair and clothes before going back down to my office. If feeling bad came with masturbating, you can imagine how bad it was after being fucked like that. At my desk my mind started to put things together. It was probably not going to happen, but I was in my third week after my period. I researched on the computer, and I walked away more scared than anything. I read it, but didn't believe it, sperm can live in you for several days.
My life is sucking dick and cleaning. After I had the baby, he wasn't sure about it, but he agreed to marry me. If not I would never have gotten married. I'm more of dyke than I want to be. I get hot for the nanny. But she doesn't swing that way. she puts on airs for him, not me. But my masturbating has visions of being with her, not the other way. I kissed her, and she threatened to leave. It's don't ask, don't tell. She likes my husband, not me. And I have to have sex with him, not her. Not much fun being a dyke is it?
At the time I was in Financial Reporting for Fortune 500, single, a professional. I had a group of friends, but never anything serious. My sexual expressions, were in the dark and all alone. I masturbated but did not use a dildo. And always, every time I felt bad afterwards. Enough that it kept me from masturbating for long stretches at a time.
I was never comfortable with my body, or my looks either. Part of the reason why I never dated, I was the ugly duckling at school, to lanky, flat chested, red hair and freckles. And I had developed an attitude. I worked hard at being the best in my class and getting straight As. I went to college on a full ride academic scholarship, got an MBA and a CPA and worked for a Big Accounting firm. After I had made Manager I went to work for the client. Still virgin, still masturbating and guilty. I bought some sexy underwear but never wore it. I watched porn but could not get into it. Lesbian porn was better, but those girls were way out of my league. I had determined that my leanings went towards women, I had lots of women friends and did not get along with men.
My job was in all woman's department. No one talked about it, but our boss was a lesbian. Being professionals we concentrated on the end product, and everyone kept their home life private. The married women and the lesbian women did not talk about it. Unprofessional, it was bad enough that we were women.
We had an acquisition that needed to be reported and I went to the head of M&A to get the information. He told me he was busy and to come back later. I told him I needed the information today, and later wasn't possible. He agreed but I had to go to lunch with him. We went to the Deli in the basement. He was reticent to share the information, mostly NOB answers. Then out of nowhere he asked me what it was like being a dyke.
I was flustered. He pressed and asked me why women like me always ate pussy. I tried to answer but he cut me off. He gave me the information that I needed, just barely enough. But I needed to start writing it up. On the elevator back up to our floors he held the door shut and asked me if I was always a dyke or if that was something that came with experience. I told him 'I'm not a dyke' in an uncontrolled voice. 'Yes you are' he answered. He let me out of the elevator but not without telling me 'if you aren't a dyke, come up and prove it'.
It was awful, terrible, scary, demeaning, everything negative you can attribute to it. He wasn't pleasant, he was proving something to me. No foreplay, not getting me hot, nothing. It was leaning against the window looking out of the building, and he rammed himself in me. 'Do you want the juice?' I didn't know what he was talking about. Too late, I got the juice all in me.
'Your a dyke' he told me. I protested and he told me to suck his dick. I didn't. I got myself together, went to the women's rest room and fixed my hair and clothes before going back down to my office. If feeling bad came with masturbating, you can imagine how bad it was after being fucked like that. At my desk my mind started to put things together. It was probably not going to happen, but I was in my third week after my period. I researched on the computer, and I walked away more scared than anything. I read it, but didn't believe it, sperm can live in you for several days.
My life is sucking dick and cleaning. After I had the baby, he wasn't sure about it, but he agreed to marry me. If not I would never have gotten married. I'm more of dyke than I want to be. I get hot for the nanny. But she doesn't swing that way. she puts on airs for him, not me. But my masturbating has visions of being with her, not the other way. I kissed her, and she threatened to leave. It's don't ask, don't tell. She likes my husband, not me. And I have to have sex with him, not her. Not much fun being a dyke is it?
- That's Juicy! 6
- Remove It! 12
