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Lesbian Stories
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Lesbian Female / 64
On A Naughty Night In Las Vegas I Married A Man I Met There
As a young woman out of college I escaped to the big city. I was happy to be anonymous. Happy to let myself free. I looked for and found a place where I could go, a place where I could dance with women. I used a name, Lucy, when I went out like that. Sometimes I woke up in a bed, sometimes I went home to my pillow. But I was where I wanted to be, in the city, where it didn't matter, I could find what I was looking for.
But when I was all of 24 I went with some girlfriends that I had met in the city, to a long weekend in Las Vegas. I had serious feelings for this one girl and we paired off into one of the two bedrooms rented. It was our 'wedding' night. We had brought wedding night gowns and frilly panties, we had oils for a deep massage. We brought a camera to photograph ourselves in love. We did what wedding night couples do, had sex all night until the sun comes up.
We slept hard until after noon, we met our friends later that evening, we had made arrangement for an all male strip show. We were going to be as naughty as we could. We left the strip club and walked and walked and went into a bar we found to sit down. It was quiet inside, and dark. We sat against the wall at a table. Men came over to hit on us, pull us up and take us onto the dance floor, we looked back at the others sitting, as an old man put his hands on our backsides. It was naughty night.
I woke up the next morning in a man's room at the Hilton. He had had his way with me, and there was no denying it. I was wearing a wedding band. He came over to me, and lifted me up and put me down face first on the bed and had sex with me doggie style. After sex he told me to turn around and suck on his dick. I faced my first dick looking up to him, I sucked his dick. Now what?
I was married the night before at some wedding chapel. My friends had signed as witnesses, but not my 'bride'. I found her upset and crying. I had married a man and gone to his hotel with him. She was cold to me, pulled away when I tried to touch her. I was married, to a man.
He lived in another big city, he had been in Las Vegas on business. Divorced from his first wife, with two kids he lived in a rented apartment. When he left for work I sat on the sofa and cried my eyes out until I couldn't cry any more. I had instructions on how to get to the supermarket, it was two blocks away, he had left me money, so I could get something and fix him dinner.
I refused to go to Las Vegas after I got married. Never went back. I've been all over the world. I had to make friends with his exwife, and help raise his children. I gave in, and had two kids of my own in my thirties. He's a nice man, he has been a good provider, I live well and I retired early. After forty years of being married I still feel dirty undressing before him. I accepted my fate by closing my eyes when he made his advances. I never purposely refused him, I was married to him.
I've have one very, very close friend for over thirty years. We travel together, we talk every day, we share everything. We were very active as younger women, but as older women we are more than sisters, but affections are guarded unless we are traveling. Never at home. That was our mantra. Never at home. I am married. Always at her place. No other woman slept in the bed my husband slept in.
We found cruising, we always have a nice cabin, my husband has never refused me. One bed, one week, when we can just be married at sea. On our breast we have a small tattoo, it was an indulgence. Two little hearts. My husband bit me when I came home with it, and bruised me. A hickey. But after more than 25 years with it, he runs his finger over it, and plants little kisses on my love tattoo.
He asks me if I am happy, I am. If he had known about me, he wouldn't have married me. But that night, in a Marriage Chapel, at 3 a.m. we were being naughty.
But when I was all of 24 I went with some girlfriends that I had met in the city, to a long weekend in Las Vegas. I had serious feelings for this one girl and we paired off into one of the two bedrooms rented. It was our 'wedding' night. We had brought wedding night gowns and frilly panties, we had oils for a deep massage. We brought a camera to photograph ourselves in love. We did what wedding night couples do, had sex all night until the sun comes up.
We slept hard until after noon, we met our friends later that evening, we had made arrangement for an all male strip show. We were going to be as naughty as we could. We left the strip club and walked and walked and went into a bar we found to sit down. It was quiet inside, and dark. We sat against the wall at a table. Men came over to hit on us, pull us up and take us onto the dance floor, we looked back at the others sitting, as an old man put his hands on our backsides. It was naughty night.
I woke up the next morning in a man's room at the Hilton. He had had his way with me, and there was no denying it. I was wearing a wedding band. He came over to me, and lifted me up and put me down face first on the bed and had sex with me doggie style. After sex he told me to turn around and suck on his dick. I faced my first dick looking up to him, I sucked his dick. Now what?
I was married the night before at some wedding chapel. My friends had signed as witnesses, but not my 'bride'. I found her upset and crying. I had married a man and gone to his hotel with him. She was cold to me, pulled away when I tried to touch her. I was married, to a man.
He lived in another big city, he had been in Las Vegas on business. Divorced from his first wife, with two kids he lived in a rented apartment. When he left for work I sat on the sofa and cried my eyes out until I couldn't cry any more. I had instructions on how to get to the supermarket, it was two blocks away, he had left me money, so I could get something and fix him dinner.
I refused to go to Las Vegas after I got married. Never went back. I've been all over the world. I had to make friends with his exwife, and help raise his children. I gave in, and had two kids of my own in my thirties. He's a nice man, he has been a good provider, I live well and I retired early. After forty years of being married I still feel dirty undressing before him. I accepted my fate by closing my eyes when he made his advances. I never purposely refused him, I was married to him.
I've have one very, very close friend for over thirty years. We travel together, we talk every day, we share everything. We were very active as younger women, but as older women we are more than sisters, but affections are guarded unless we are traveling. Never at home. That was our mantra. Never at home. I am married. Always at her place. No other woman slept in the bed my husband slept in.
We found cruising, we always have a nice cabin, my husband has never refused me. One bed, one week, when we can just be married at sea. On our breast we have a small tattoo, it was an indulgence. Two little hearts. My husband bit me when I came home with it, and bruised me. A hickey. But after more than 25 years with it, he runs his finger over it, and plants little kisses on my love tattoo.
He asks me if I am happy, I am. If he had known about me, he wouldn't have married me. But that night, in a Marriage Chapel, at 3 a.m. we were being naughty.
