When Being A Lesbian Was A Lot More Difficult

I was born in Colombia, raised mostly in the US while my father was stationed with the Colombian Embassy. He obtained his residency and he and my mother became citizens. But I turned 18 without my independent residency and had to return to Colombia. I lived with my grandmother and it took me a year to be accepted at a US university and obtain my student visa.

While I was in Colombia I became close with one of my cousins and she taught me how to kiss and become intimate. She had discovered her lesbianism later in high school and introduced me to discovering that I too had lesbian feelings. I fell in love with her, deep love and leaving for university broke my heart. I floundered, I went back for summer break, for Christmas break, anything to be with her. When we saw each other we were inseparable, declared our love for each other, by the time I was in my senior year I was convinced I was a lesbian as she was, and I would return to Colombia.

But she got married, to a returning doctor who had studied in Paris. She told me to get married so I could get my residency and not be a fool, we were not the type to make a living, the man had to be someone that could make a good living. I had the smarts and the body for it, use it, be cruel, targeted, get a husband before my visa ran out. I cried and cried for a week, but she was relentless, FIND A HUSBAND AND GET MARRIED. She had, and now she was expecting.

I met a guy, he was getting his second degree, he was an Engineer but he wanted a degree in Business, a full degree, not an MBA which he felt was Business light. He was half Hispanic, of a Hispanic father and American mother, raised in Latin America. I presented myself to him one night at a party, laid down on the floor and he had sex with me along with several other couples that were having sex. I performed oral sex on him, and the next day went to his apartment to clean and straighten up and did his laundry. I gave him more sex, this time on his bed, in the full light of day. I did not tell him I was working on becoming pregnant. I had less than three months before graduation.

I washed and cleaned and folded and kissed and gave him BJs and spread myself out for him, until I was sure I was pregnant. I got married a week after graduation in a small ceremony at my parents' and we moved to his job site in Texas. I had a miscarriage.

My cousin wrote me and called me, it was terrible for her. She had a lot more difficulty than I did with sex and the pregnancy was heavy on her. When her baby was born she named her after me. We repeatedly declared our love for each other. What had we done? We were both married to men, who expected maids for wives. And we were maids, I was, she had help in Colombia.

My husband wanted and expected BJs. I got tired of swallowing and spit out and he got angry. Don't waste his seed. It was to nourish me that he ejaculated in my mouth, and when he ejaculated in my vagina, my body would absorb his seed, or I would get pregnant. Then I gagged with his penis in my mouth, and threw up. I just could not do it anymore. And I shut my legs tight, I couldn't do it any more. I got the cold shoulder, the lectures. I cried and cried, in the bathroom on the toilet. I cried some more, and more and cried talking to my cousin in Colombia. He got mad at the long distance. I missed her so much, but she was pregnant again.

I had to get pregnant, and carry the pregnancy to fruition. I felt my husband was close to divorcing me. I had to crawl back to him, give him a long BJ, lay myself out for him, and take his 'seed' and get pregnant. I cooked and cleaned and reverted to being the maid and attending to him. I allowed sex, all through the pregnancy, and at the end in my anal cavity. He wasn't going to let me get by, and after the birth I had to continue allowing anal sex, until I could turn over and allow him my vagina.

My cousin and I are mature women, with children out of college. Our husbands never divorced us and we picked good and they make good money. When we see each other we hug and hug and cry together. Our kisses last forever and we whisper our love for each other. Another twenty five years and we would not have had to get married to men, we could have married each other.

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