A Married Woman’s Lesbain Fantasies

I didn’t do it. I’m back home now and it almost seems as if it never happened. I have slept with my husband, gone shopping, been at my office, gone to church, talked (not about that) with my pastor. I have had coffee with my friends and life has resumed it’s normal pace. And it’s as if… as if it had never happened. But I still have her card.

The day after I posted last I took time from business. It had been stressful and we all decided not to rush things. We weren’t going to conclude our dealings before New Years anyway and those of us far from home were resigned to it. We would begin again on Jan 3.

As for my situation with her, I’d mostly put it out of my head. I’d decided it was too dangerous. I just wasn’t prepared to cheat on my husband for one, nor to delve into lesbianism (or even bisexuality) outside my own fantasy play-land. I had gotten close enough to know without a shadow of a doubt that I was sexually attracted to, at least some, women and that given the circumstance I could act on it. It was different than with men. I am used to being looked over by men and occasionally getting propositioned. Even in supposedly non-sexual dealings such as in business I know there is an element of “I am / am not attracted to this man”. I know the feelings, can deal with them appropriately and have my defenses ready in case he decides I am “worth a shot” as they say. But despite my fantasies I wasn’t prepared for it from a real live, breathing, warm, sexy woman. But anyway…

I spent the day pampering myself. Hot bath, book, hotel spa. I’d planned an early dinner in the restaurant alone with my book but… I’ll skip the suspense building.. she walked in with a man. I was sort of off in a corner – where singles always seem to be seated in restaurants – and the two of them were at the bar so they didn’t see me. I couldn’t see him well enough to describe him other than he had no obvious features, from behind, which would mark him. I mean that he wasn’t overly tall or short, fat or thin, bald or coiffed; he didn’t strike me as particularly old or young but in a suit that could have meant anywhere from about 25 to a fit 75 I suppose. But I could see well enough to note that they seemed rather friendly. Light, casual touches on the hand, a seemingly easy and comfortable manner with each other. I found myself getting jealous. I couldn’t read nor think of anything else. Again, she was filling my head. I concentrated on my drink and bowl of peanuts and forced myself to not stare. I glanced at a cultural guide – pretending to decide what I’d do with myself in a familiar yet foreign city for the next couple days. And then she rose and went to the ladies. For a couple minutes I think I understood what a pubescent boy must feel because suddenly my mind was flooded with the knowledge and image that she was removing her pants and that That Ass would be bare – if only I were in a position to see, to touch it. I have to admit that I was rather stunned by the intensity of that image and my reaction to it. I had it for perhaps 3 minutes – I can’t imagine going through all of puberty (life?) like that. Anyway, I’d regained myself by the time she returned. It wasn’t long after that he patted her hand, gave her a decidedly innocent peck on the cheek and left her alone at the bar. I wondered what I should do, what I wanted to happen, if I’d simply tossed all my morals out the window, and I ordered myself another drink from the waiter. It seemed like someone else had taken over control of my mouth for the 2 or 4 seconds it took to order her one too. I saw the barman hand it to her and point in my direction. I saw her turn on her stool to look. And when our eyes found each other I saw a bit of surprise, a bit of confusion, and finally, to my relief, a smile which conveyed more than simple pleasure but I am not sure exactly what. A secret of her own. Anyway she sat down with me.

It was strange and uncomfortable. We made painfully meaningless small talk and I was beginning to think I shouldn’t have invited her over. Finally I said, “Look, about the other day…”

She stared at me, expectant. I stopped because I had been going to say something like, “I don’t know what came over me… I don’t generally have erotic fantasies about the women next to me on airplanes… It must have been the gin and jetlag…” blah blah blah. But her look seemed to anticipate that sort of thing and at the same time prevent me from continuing with it. It took me a couple seconds to recover. But I went on, looking into my glass, not at her, “Ok, I was going to say something dismissive. But the reality is that had you said the word I would have gone with you. Despite my husband.”

I thought I could feel her eyes boring into me but I don’t know. I was still staring away from her when quietly, gently she asked, “And now?”

I found myself rather angry all of a sudden. Surprisingly so.

“What do you mean ‘and now?’ I go to church. I’m married. I love my husband. I don’t go to bed with women. How can you ask me that? Is this how you seduce women in hotels?”

“I’m sorry”, she said still speaking very softly, “it’s just that I’ve thought about you a lot since our lunch. I would have gone with you too, you know. It’s easier for me I suppose, I’m single, but I’ve never been to bed with a woman either.”

My anger fell off as fast as it had risen. I finally looked her in the eye and saw her uncertainty, her vulnerability.

I took her hand, “No, I’m sorry. This is all a little much for me. I feel like you’ve been making the offers – not unwanted offers, mind you – and that I have been playing the passive role. It’s not fair to get angry with you.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And now?”

I guess I looked like I might get angry again so she continued, “You know I’m confused too. I consider myself straight. I like men. I like fucking men. And beyond a couple drunk nights flirting in the dorm I haven’t thought about a woman like this. I’m not trying to force myself on you. I mostly want to know if I’m the only one.”

My grip on her hand tightened, “No. You’re not.”

We talked some more, mostly in general and safe terms about our feeling regarding sex, lesbianism and the lot. We talked of the strangeness of wanting a woman, of the strength of the feeling. We laughed about the possibility that men have to feel like this all the time. We decided that it was ok and we didn’t need to feel uncomfortable with each other. We decided to have dinner. And this time when she asked me how my business dealings were going she was asking about business. And when I asked how her trip was I only wanted to know how she was enjoying her stay. And when she told me that the man I’d seen earlier was her uncle I was so relieved that it must have shown. She smiled but said nothing. And I asked about her plans for the evening because I was only curious. I had absolutely no intention of suggesting renting a movie in my suite. I really didn’t, but when I did just that and she accepted I honestly only meant renting a movie, perhaps getting a bottle of wine or whatever and then maybe some TV.

An hour later she knocked on my door. Dressed comfortably in lose slacks and a light blouse she seemed as innocent as could be. I wondered if she too had spent most of the hour agonizing over what to wear. Is this suggestive? Is that too plain? Should I wash off all my makeup or put on a dash of Poison? If I don’t put on shoes will it look bad? By morning I would know that in fact she had but I didn’t know yet.

The selection of movies was pretty dismal. Family, romantic comedies (chick flicks?), action, and porno. Though we quickly mentioned and dismissed the above categories, save one, neither one of us mentioned that last. The omission almost made it the only choice we had. But – being ladies we did revisit our more wholesome options and decided on the Hugh Grant one. I don’t even remember which one – to be honest they all seem like the same movie to me… all made as some continuing penance to womankind for his “indiscretion.” But it was relaxing and sort of fun to make fun of his Oh-so Sincere and Sensitive looks and his charming wit. We got very giggly. By the end of the film – and second bottle of wine – we were wrestling in the 3 inch shag on the floor. I felt decidedly school-girlish. I think it was the harsh glare of the “Offerings screen” prompting us to rent another movie for about $12 which made us realize what we were doing and what it might look like. We settled down and grinned at each other. No embarrassment now just the grin of an open secret – not yet ready to be spoken but far beyond denying its existence.

“So now what?” I asked. “It’s still pretty early.” It was only about 9:30.

“I dunno. Any suggestions?” she replied, flopping down, laterally onto my sofa.

“I feel all sweaty after that.”

“I think you smell nice.”

“Well I feel sweaty. I wonder if the pools open.”

“I didn’t bring a suit.” She said.

“Neither did I”

“You don’t think we could…” she began but we both started giggling – thinking about trying to skinny dip in the hotel’s indoor pool.

I sat on the floor in front of the couch and poured the last drops of wine from the bottle. “Well, I think it’s time for decisions. It’s too early to sleep.”

“What,” she said, “about another movie and more wine?”

“I’m not against except for that dreadful selection we’ve got.”

“Well… We don’t have to tell anyone…” and she looked at me with her sly, secret smile.

I gave it a bout 7 seconds of thought and said “OK. Have you ever watched one?”

“Sure, back in school me and my roommates were curious. And a couple boyfriends liked too…”

“Ya, me too,” I admitted “but never – you know – because I wanted too.” I hadn’t told her about my little internet habit. “I have to admit… it’s kind of exciting. “

“It is, isn’t it. What do you want to bet that this part is better than the watching?”

“One wish” I said without thinking. I was busy looking for the room service card to order some more food and drink.

“One wish?” she asked. “Like, what kind of wish?”

When I looked up she was staring at me, slightly drunkenly but with a decidedly impish expression on her really cute face.

“One fulfill-able wish. Not like a pot of gold or something.”

“OK” she said. “I’m game. But I guess we both have to agree, ya?”

“Yup. But you’re cheating. Your bet’s making this part more interesting. Makes it harder for the movie to beat.” I said and winked.

“All’s fair…”

I went to the bathroom and by the time I was done room service had come and gone. She was spreading out the goodies on the coffee table and mentioned the wine seemed a bit warm. I felt the bottle and agreed.

“Shall we hit the mini bar for a snort?” she offered.

“Sure. What’s on offer?”

“Trust me.” She said as I heard the cracks of a couple little bottles. A minute later I held a plastic cup. “My special martini.”

We drank quickly and silently. It rushed to my head wonderfully and warmed me all over. She mixed a couple more and we sat down on the floor leaning back on the sofa.

“OK. Here we go.” She said, picking up the remote and clicked to the Adult section.

It turned out that there was rather a larger selection in that category than in the rest. We flipped through the pictures with, I have to admit, quite a bit of interest and finally settled on something in the “couples” (as opposed to “teens”, “lesbian”, “mature” etc) section.

We were a bit nervous, I think, and quite a bit anxious as the film began. Music played and credits rolled against scenes of what I guess were the Hollywood Hills – it looked like a wealthy part of Southern California anyway. Our tension built in silence until the point of view led us through a modern, mostly chrome and glass mansion, into the bedroom. We both burst out laughing when assaulted with the size of the breasts which appeared on the screen. They must have been well over 100 inches and utterly absurd. We watched for a few minutes chuckling and commenting on whether anyone could possibly find that sexy. She rose to pee and get the wine and when she returned I noticed she sat a bit closer. In the next scene they set up 2 women and one man. One of the women definitely had fake breasts but at least more realistic – but otherwise she was lovely. The man was attractive in his jeans – he looked well built. The second woman was quite pretty – dark shoulder length hair and a petite but still well rounded figure. I found myself quite looking forward to watching this scene play out. I noticed my friend had quieted down and seemed more interested in the action.

“I like the dark haired one.” She said without ever looking away.

“Ya, me too. The other one’s bottom looks nice in her shorts, though.”

“Bottom?” she laughed. “How old are you, like 5?”

“There’s nothing wrong with ‘bottom’.” I replied “Nothing wrong with his either, for that matter.”

The man had now lost his jeans and we saw his, quite nicely. He did work out from the looks of it. And then the camera panned around for a frontal view.

“My god, look at that thing. How can she fit it in her mouth?” she said. “But he does have a nice ass. A toast to his ass.”

We made a motion as if to stand, clicked glasses and plomped back down – again just that much closer.

His penis must have been 10 inches long and quite round. It was more hypnotic than erotic watching it slide in and out of the big-chested woman’s mouth. But I got bored of that fairly quickly. I only started getting interested again when I saw the dark one begin to slip out of her clothes in the background. Her body was wonderful – her hips were nice and small but her waist smaller still so her figure kept that lovely roundness. She looked to stand about 5 ft tall. Her breasts couldn’t have been terribly large but they too looked like little grapefruits with truly beautiful and dark nipples. And when she sat down in an armchair and spread her legs high and wide her completely shaved mound quite held my attention. It was very plump – its shape surprised me. And I loved the view of her inner labia peeking about ½ an inch out.

“OK, call me a big fat dyke but that looks good enough to eat.” Said my friend.

Apart from bringing her glass to her lips every couple minutes she didn’t move at all. We were both transfixed by the view of this little wonder fondling her nipples, her belly. I thought I’d faint when she slipped her whole body down a bit more which made her lips part a little showing us her moist inside and my first view of her brown little asshole. With both hands she spread her pussy wide and the camera moved in close. We could hear it as her fingers went to work. Rubbing, spreading, playing with her pink clit. And then slipping a finger in. It was mesmerizing. This bit didn’t go on for nearly long enough before the scene returned to the couple. Though he was now licking the other woman’s pussy – which was nice to watch but not as captivating – our spell was broken.

“Yup, that was hot.” She said.

“You’re not kidding. She certainly knows her business. I need to cool off.” I said laughing and rising to go to the refrigerator. I found some ice and bottled water but nothing which seemed to hit the spot.

“Then take your top off.” She suggested and I noticed she’d unbuttoned hers to well below her breasts. I stood looking at her for some seconds before shaking my head to clear it and pouring more wine and dropping an ice cube into it.

The next few scenes were completely unremarkable. Various combinations of penises and vaginas and orgasmic screams so over “acted” that they even stopped being funny after a while. But during the “boring” part she had moved right over to me and put her head onto my shoulder and sort of absently toyed with my knee. We commented on his or hers and a couple truly acrobatic acts which were interesting as displays of human flexibility more than eroticism. But then “our” girl showed up again

We both perked up. The girl was in a vaguely S&M sort of outfit. Then a new blond woman entered. Without a word from either one they began undressing each other. The blond was quite voluptuous with, as we both agreed, real breasts. Her hips and bum were on the large side, at least among this cast, round, and very nice. They got right to business. The brunette began licking the other and spreading her very wide. They 69’d. They fingered. As much as my friend was enraptured the whole time, for me though, it really began to get good when the blond opened a briefcase containing several toys. She selected a very thin, slightly flexible wand. I saw my little brunette bend over a large ball with her legs spread wide. Her ass was as open as it could be on its own. The blond began licking her. Her tongue slathered the dark girl’s asshole with spit and then she ever so gently began working the wand in. I must have let out a sound and only realized I was rubbing myself through my slacks when my friend asked, “Dreaming again?”

This time I wasn’t embarrassed at all but only smiled and replied, “You better believe it.”

I didn’t even mind that she noticed me rubbing.

“You like that last bit, don’t you?” I could hear the imp in her coming out again.

“MmmHmm. I do.”

“I think you won the bet. You, little girl, get exactly one wish.” She was now all imp.

“I do?” I’d honestly forgotten our bet.

OK – I’ll blame the drink, of which there had been enough to make me a little slow but not yet stupid. But – as excited as I was, and as I knew she was, it didn’t dawn on my right off what she was saying. I suppose that even though we’d been inching toward a conclusion which for you, dear reader, might be obvious, it was nothing of the sort for me, at the time. I had already gone much farther than I would have thought possible a week earlier – hell just that morning. You must realize that never in my life had I entertained the thought of ever acting on my auto-erotic fantasies – with women or men (yes I had those too – I am much more adventurous in fantasyland). I looked at her not yet consciously understanding that she was expecting me to make a move – invite her to continue or run screaming into the bathroom – something. I was frozen. My body had left no secrets for me to keep, my actions all that evening betrayed my one goal, my excitement was as subtle as a freight train, but somehow the act which all this pointed too hid itself from me.

But it’s late. I need to go to bed. More about what happened next in my next posting.