Date: Sun, 7 Nov 2004 13:13:27 -0800 (PST)
From: Susan T <susietreasure@yahoo.com>
Subject: Labor Day Lesbian Submission: Part 1

(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.