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Women Only
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Lesbian Female / 48
The Price God Demands From Us We Pay To Get Our Children
My mother and father had a cold distant relationship. When I was still in grade school my father announced he had a woman he wanted to live with. My mother couldn't wait for him to be gone. The day the divorce was final my my mother said 'how can a woman want a man on top of her, she will learn like I did, there is no worse thing'. Then seeing I was looking at her 'it's not your fault, God punished you, and you have to let a man on top of you to have children'.
Fast forward to college and a Venezuelan girl grabbed me and kissed me, forcing her hand up my shirt. I resisted, but she continued, 'you are liking this'. I was, but I didn't admit it. Later I met a girl named Vicky and when she kissed me I fell back and let her open my shirt and kiss my tits and feel me up between my legs. I really liked it, and dreamt of it, my day was complete when I could be with her.
Our affair ended when we left college. I heard she married a hometown boy and had a son soon after. It took years for me to get over her. One day a man told me across the lunch table he wanted to fuck me. That forward. He missed me in the parking lot, stuck his tongue in my mouth and repeated that he was going to fuck me.
It was 'awful', not painful, more disgusting than anything. I thought of my mother, God was punishing me. But it was the only way to get pregnant. In my thoughts I thought, that's what Vicky had to go through. I never loved her more than that realization.
I called Vicky, she was slow to answer, but the feelings were there, and after telling her what had happened to me and I was pregnant, she told me to accept it, get him to marry me, and get two or three more kids out of him. That's what she was doing, one more and she had her four.
Like my mother, Vicky and me both divorced our husband's after getting our children. Twenty five years after college we got together again, in a house with seven children. When Vicky kisses me those twenty five years of separation melt away.
Fast forward to college and a Venezuelan girl grabbed me and kissed me, forcing her hand up my shirt. I resisted, but she continued, 'you are liking this'. I was, but I didn't admit it. Later I met a girl named Vicky and when she kissed me I fell back and let her open my shirt and kiss my tits and feel me up between my legs. I really liked it, and dreamt of it, my day was complete when I could be with her.
Our affair ended when we left college. I heard she married a hometown boy and had a son soon after. It took years for me to get over her. One day a man told me across the lunch table he wanted to fuck me. That forward. He missed me in the parking lot, stuck his tongue in my mouth and repeated that he was going to fuck me.
It was 'awful', not painful, more disgusting than anything. I thought of my mother, God was punishing me. But it was the only way to get pregnant. In my thoughts I thought, that's what Vicky had to go through. I never loved her more than that realization.
I called Vicky, she was slow to answer, but the feelings were there, and after telling her what had happened to me and I was pregnant, she told me to accept it, get him to marry me, and get two or three more kids out of him. That's what she was doing, one more and she had her four.
Like my mother, Vicky and me both divorced our husband's after getting our children. Twenty five years after college we got together again, in a house with seven children. When Vicky kisses me those twenty five years of separation melt away.
