(This story is not for minors or anyone offended by descriptions of sexual exploration between adventurous women. All characters are ... well, you figure it out for yourself. Feedback is welcome!)
Labor Day Lesbian Submission
By
Susie T. (susietreasure@yahoo.com)
When I was very young I had an experience with two older female cousins on a vacation in the country. It was brief but intense and I forgot about it as quickly as possible. But of course it left a mark. I'm now 37, divorced (my husband turned out to be gay -- and judging from the quality of our sex life I should have known a lot sooner), living alone and sick and tired of men and bars. I work in the graphics department of a medium-sized advertising firm and I recognize that my job, which can be challenging and fun and even enjoyable most times, isn't contributing much to humanity. In my off-time I sketch and for the past year I have finally let my imagination run a bit wild.
My sketchbooks are full of women, women of all shapes and kinds. I simply love the female body. And though I appreciate male beauty, it's only an intellectual or aesthetic appreciation. Men leave me cold. I suppose the fact that my sexual interactions with them haven't been terribly exciting is one reason; but there's more too it. I find them so utterly narcissistic that I can't stand them, their selfishness, their unkindnesses. Yet I've been afraid to venture into the world of lesbianism -- until very recently and in what I think was a very big way (but maybe I'm fooling myself -- you be the judge).
My sketches have become more and more erotic, and darker... I have been drawn (and drawing!) powerful, beautiful and feminine women, and I've found myself craving a taste of their control. Most of my friends are married and now raising kids, so my social circle is not the place to experiment. Although I love to masturbate, and have pleasured myself creatively, I needed more. At one point I even thought about hiring an escort service! But I'm too shy, or maybe too cowardly, for that.
Let me describe myself. I'm rather tall at 5'9", 135 lbs, very firm of leg and ass. My breasts are 34C, but my waist is very narrow and my legs slender. My belly is taut and I've taken pains to stay in shape. I have long red hair that falls down to my waist. I'm a looker, but the wrong sex has been looking at me.
What I'm about to describe occurred over the labor day weekend. I've no-one I can tell, so I thought I'd write this up behind the cloak of anonymity in the hope that readers somewhere will share in my excitement. I've never really thought of myself as a writer, so forgive me the awkwardness of expression here. And I suspect that I'm probably older than the average person who writes these kinds of things.
On the Saturday before the long Labor Day weekend I was terribly terribly frustrated. My whole body seemed to crave touch and I was on the verge of venturing to a bar to pick up a man for a night, even though I swore I would never do so again. I lay in bed gently caressing my large nipples and running my fingers along the sides of my thighs and lightly across my pussy lips, but I stopped myself short. I wanted more, I wanted ... well I wasn't exactly sure, but the thought of kneeling before a lovely strong woman wouldn't leave me. I tried to keep my fantasies in check but they overcame me and I finally gave in to daydreaming and sketching my thoughts. I sketched rapidly, my heart racing as I traced the figure of myself kneeling on the floor, hands tied behind my back, kissing the shoes of an elegant leather-clad brunette while an equally beautiful woman stood behind me, crop in hand.
I quickly shut the sketch book and took a long walk. It was a beautiful day. I considered responding to my friends' invitations to join them for barbecues and dinner, but when I returned home a burning inside me, a burning for something alive and adventurous and risky, took hold. I knew better what I wanted. As I walked I gazed lewdly at women, young and old. I wanted to be held and bound and degraded and excited and ordered about and fucked, fucked hard, and maybe even whipped... I felt as if I were going crazy. And mostly I wanted to lick the lovely pussies of a lesbian couple, one by one, and yes, I kind of wanted to be their slave for a night.
Aside from the time with my cousins I had never kissed a woman. I wished so much to feel warm succulent lips on mine, to have my breasts fondled and pinched, my flesh caressed. I finally screwed up my courage and decided to go alone to one of the two notorious lesbian bars in town (I live in a big city). I felt I could go rather anonymously and fought through the dread of being discovered by someone I knew. I had no plan except to go, and to go late in the hopes I would be picked up.
I took a long bath and nearly lost my nerve. No, I wouldn't back down now. What did I have to lose? I was an adult, 37 ... I guess I worried about rejection, about going unseen in a place full of young people. But I knew I was still attractive.
I dressed skimpily, sexily, in a way I had contemplated but never dared before. I donned a white silk camisole and didn't bother with a bra, and I slipped on a black leather vest. Then a white silk thong and a short black leather mini-skirt that I'd never worn before. And cowboy boots. I thought I would look silly at first but as I gazed at myself in the mirror I became aroused thinking of someone perhaps lifting up my skirt or gently parting my vest. I made my face up, to accentuate my hazel eyes, and yet still felt something was missing...something that would send a message. Yes!, I thought, a choker or collar... I rummaged about in vain but hit on the idea of cutting an old thin leather belt to fit around my neck. It was a braided belt and as I slid it through the buckle around my neck I thought mischievously that any domme worth her salt would leash me without thinking twice.
A glass of wine gave me the courage to leave, finally, and when I entered "Loveladies" it was midnight. I walked straight to the bar and took the only empty seat I could find. It was crowded, people were dancing, and the music was loud. I ordered tequila and I noticed that the barmistress smiled.
"You look a little nervous," she said. "Waiting for someone?"
I smiled shyly. "Not really." She left and served other patrons. As I sipped on my drink I began to relax and look around. Just as I thought, most of the women were younger than I. A lot were butch. They all looked to be in couples. I felt as if I had barged in on a party. I didn't think anyone even glanced my way. I felt as if I were in costume at a non-costume event!
The barmistress returned and served me a second without my ordering.
"This is on me," she said. "First timers special." She was about my height and weight, great figure. Her black silk blouse accentuated lovely breasts. Her jeans were tight and supple. Then as she laid the drink before me she grabbed my hair with her left hand and pulled my head back and kissed me full on the lips. A few girls started to clap and snicker as I blushed.
"That's to let everybody know that you're mine, sweetie." She kissed me again and I let myself melt into it.
"I get off at 1, so what I'd like you to do is get yourself warmed up on the dance floor before I take you home."
I knocked down the second drink and slinked into the crowd and just let myself flow to the music a bit. Before I knew it I had a partner, and then another, and another, and I danced from song to song with the anticipation of being with a beautiful woman just as I had desired. Was it that easy? A sexy blond pulled on my vest and kissed me and I glanced at the barmistress who nodded and smiled. I guessed it was OK. In fact, it was delicious and the blond and I had our arms around each other's necks, kissing and gyrating, and the music was increasing our fervor and then suddenly the barmistress yanked my arms away from my partner and put them around her waist. She ground herself into me as I held her hips and then she very lightly touched my breasts.
My pussy became wet instantaneously and when the song finished she ushered me out of the club and into the cool air of the street.
"I live a block away, sweetie, can you make it that far?"
I smiled. "Of course."
"What's your name" she asked as we strolled arm in arm in the dark.
"Susie," I answered, "and yours?"
She paused for a moment. "I think I'll have you call me `Mistress' for now."
My knees nearly buckled.
End of Part 1.