My husband Mike, after claiming that I promised to let him find me another girl to have sex with, went at his self-appointed task with his typical enthusiasm.
Amazingly, he managed to succeed. This at least showed me that I wasn't the only one who would do anything he asked. I always thought that he had some sort of power that enabled him to propose the most outlandish things to people and they would actually do them.
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My wife, Natasha, is Russian, and originally came here as a work exchange student. We fell in love her first summer here. She was a virgin, and I was her first. We kept in touch when she returned to her university, and she came back the next summer. We lived together that summer, and got married at the end of it! Our sex life was awesome from the start. But we are both very sensual people, and a dispute arose.
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Neeta stared out of the window of the coach, the mountain air cool against her warm face. As the wind fanned her face she felt all her troubles falling away far into the depths of the valley below. Looking towards the mountains, she fervently hoped that this holiday would revive her sagging spirits and confidence in herself.
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Now that I am in my early thirties ...I find that I am saying things I don't believe come out of my mouth. Like the phrase, "when I was your age ...." can come out before I have a chance to stop it if I am talking to someone from toddler on up to young adult. It is at those times I almost think I sound like my grandmother. But last Saturday afternoon, I started a conversation with Kate, 18 year old girl who is wonderfully beautiful both inside and out.
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It was 3 AM and my bed sheets were a messy lump under my back. I was tired. It had been a tiring day -- get up early in the morning, make breakfast, work eight hours, go to movies with boyfriend, have a screaming fight with boyfriend outside of movie theatre, throw drink at boyfriend, cry after being dumped, rip up photos of us as a couple... all very tiring work.
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"Oh, my family has a cabin on a lake!" I blurted out without thinking about it.
My friend Shira had been talking about how much she had liked camping by a lake. It seemed her entire childhood had been spent camping, at least until her parents' divorce.
"Really?" Her whole face lit up. "Can we go? Our only Friday class has been cancelled."
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I don't know why I did it. Okay, that's a lie, do I know, at least I think I do. First of all, it's fun to be seen as a sex symbol. Not as a porn star, hell no. I'm not a slut. Okay, maybe a wanna-be slut, but I'm a good girl. I didn't go to a Catholic school, but I was raised Catholic and I still believe most of it, okay?
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My introduction to lesbianism came a few years ago, the summer after my freshman year of college. I am 5'2, 34a, thin, short brown hair and green eyes. My mom's best friend, Catherine, is very tall, almost 6, long blonde hair she almost always wears up, blue eyes, 36d and a gym hard body.
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The last of our friends leave, which leaves us alone in her room and the entire house. I sit nervously next to her on the bed, and drink some of my beer. The only thing I can think about is what happened last night. I'm too embarrassed to bring it up, but she does it for me.
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As if in a trance, I stepped into the shower with my new goddess. It was a tight fit, the two of us in that little space. Neither of us minded; it just pushed us up against each other more and more.
Her skin was softer than I imagined it, if that was possible. Her hands were pressed against the glass on either side of my shoulders, effectively trapping me against the now warmed glass of the shower stall.
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