Date: Wed, 3 Sep 2014 21:44:29 -0400
From: Violet295@aol.com
Subject: Not Your Everyday Lesbian

Not Your Everyday Lesbian

I have kept my sexual proclivities quiet and private for  the most part. In
this day and age it is easy to go on line when you are lonely  and find
something to ring your chimes. I figure with all the headaches and
entanglements of relationships why try anymore? Perhaps it is my age, I am no  longer
naïve, and am quite worldly I suppose. Searching for the long term love  of
my life seems hopeless, so I am slowly adapting to a solitary  life.
Perhaps I am lazy, perhaps a realist but I have tried so  many failed
relationships and am quite frankly tired of the hurt and  disappointment. I know,
I know, if it always fails, you have to consider the  source, perhaps it is
my fault? I do, I am not blameless but it seems that each  new relationship
builds like a wildfire and then the flames go out, leaving just  the
property damage.
My final desperate leap of faith was to blame the  USA, perhaps I  could be
happier in another country, and perhaps the women there will be  different?
My life is in pretty good shape, so I made a decision to head to  Europe
for an extended stay, since I have always heard  the European women are
sexually freer than the uptight American  women.
I took a sabbatical from the university, for one year and  bought a plane
ticket to  Sweden. Why  Sweden, well I  have always liked the full bodied
blond look but upon research, found the  majority of Swedish women to be
brunettes and nice looking. It was a starting  point anyway; I had every intention
to sample the faire across the continent.
If this sounds like a midlife crisis, I would not deny  it, I am in a
sexual crisis and I am approaching mid life. The plane flight was  many hours, so
I splurged and bought a first class ticket. After two glasses of
champagne, the Swedish Air flight attendants did seem very exotic and quite
appealing, but eventually I fell asleep and missed most of the flight  experience. I
do have a weakness for foreign accents, perhaps because my  family traveled
a lot as a child.
When I was awakened, there was a very buxom blond flight  attendant nearly
whispering in my ear, to fasten my seatbelt and prepare for  landing. She
was quite kind and smelled magnificent. I looked around in a state  of
embarrassment, to see if I had caused a scene, as the content of my dreams  drifted
back. I was off in a world of free sexual encounters with no limits with
one or two or sometimes a roomful of female partners. I think my face was
flushed still, I finally got dragged back to reality at immigration.
I spent two weeks in  Sweden,  researching the lesbian hang outs on line by
day and haunting a new one each  night. I was a tad disappointed, realizing
that my expectations had been high  and perhaps I needed to acclimate to
the European culture before I would fit in.  Finally I took out a map of
Europe and spread it out on  the hotel bed , I closed my eyes, poked a finger
downward and opened my eyes, it  was dead center on Hungry.
Early the next morning, I checked out of the Hotel and  bought a train
ticket to Hungry, with no expectations and no idea what the  language would be
or what the women would look like. I wore a nice, but simple  dress on the
train, not wanting to look like the American tourist I was. The  disguise
seemed to work because several people, sadly mostly men, asked me  questions in
foreign languages, before I had to admit I was an English only  speaker.
The passengers seemed to be a mix of many countries but  as we made stops,
the riders coalesced into what I assumed were Hungarians. Many  seemed poor
and the women I noticed did not hold leg and arm pit shaving in high
regard, most seemed to being riding the train out of necessity, not for  adventure
or a change of attitude.
Oh well a romance on a train was a passing fantasy  anyway, so I settled in
and decided to take in the scenery. Trees and farmland  zipped past my
window, giving me glimpses of Hungarian countryside.
With out my notice, I heard a rustling in my compartment  and turned to
find a new companion that had slipped in while I was studying the  countryside.
I found my chest tight and my breathing difficult when I focused on  her.
Sitting across from me was a five foot five brunette with  the most
complimentary short and sassy hairdo, followed by a long neck, wide  shoulders and
ample breast. Unlike other passengers she was well dressed and  extremely
well groomed, be still my heart.
Her legs were shapely, her shoes fashionable and her  skirt revealing way
more leg than was safe in front of my sex starved eyes.  After a quick smile,
I returned my focus to the countryside until I could get my  breath and
regroup. Telling myself that there is no way she is gay or even bi, I  was able
to let my muscles relax and fresh air came back to my lungs.
Still forcing myself to look out the window,  despite my desire to undress
her with my eyes, I launched into a familiar mental argument. She  is so
gorgeous; there is not a chance  we can hook up, besides she is most likely
straight. On the other hand if I don't take a chance how will I know?  I will
just get disappointed so why try?
This cycle of  insecurity went on for five grueling minutes, until my
maturity
reminded me  I don't have that many prime years left. So suck it up and
start a conversation.  The worst that will happen is she  will get off the
train and I will have a memory to carry in my  mind.