Don’t tell a Soul
It is difficult for women to keep secrets. This is why I haven’t told any of my good friends. Actually, men are not all that tight lipped, either. But this is something I would not tell a man-friend for fear it would get back to my husband.
I am married. If you were to listen to all my married friends when we get together, you would not think happily married. The romance is definitely gone, but I would say the marriage is strong. I know he has been faithful to me, and I have never cheated on him with another man. In my mind I have made peace that I have not been unfaithful. But – it may be just a matter of how you look at things. Bill Clinton didn’t think getting a blow job by Monica Lewinski meant he didn’t have sex with her. Let me be perfectly clear – I have never been penetrated by another man during the time I have been married.
Sometimes I feel like maid service. My husband comes and goes just like he did when he was single. One night he’ll play cards with the guys, another night they will shoot darts competitively. His dinner is always on the table on time even though I work a regular job, too. He leaves his dirty dishes on the table for me to pick up after him. I could go on and on, but what’s the use?
The one thing I do for myself is go to the gym three times a week. The reason I know he isn’t running around on me is because the wives of all his friends go to the same gym. After workouts we will get a smoothie or something and sit around and complain to each other. They get the same treatment. The wife of the guy who sponsored cards that week gets to clean up after all of them, not just her husband. Many times we all have a good laugh about one of our husband’s stupidity.
We bitch about the lack of intimacy and foreplay. To the men, they just stick it in and get their rocks off and think they have done their homework. After they get that ring on your finger, romance goes the way of the do-do bird.
Several months ago, after our coffee-klatch was done for the evening, I was approached by this other woman. She was very trim and in great shape. She was ultra-feminine and I wanted to hate her at first sight. She genially asked if all of us were having the same man problems. I explained that our husbands were good friends and we enjoyed complaining about them. She said she knew what would solve my intimacy issues. Naturally, I asked how. She tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, looked me right in the eye, and asked me if I ever considered switching teams. Then she left.
I just sat there thinking WTF was that? Then it hit me like a tornado! That very feminine, nice looking woman was hitting on me! She looked like a normal woman – I mean she didn’t look like a manly woman athlete or the stereotypical butch woman. I was floored, but I didn’t say anything to anyone.
Several weeks later she came up to me and asked if I had given her question any thought. I told her as nicely as I could that I was flattered by her attention, but I was a died-in-the-wool straight woman. I liked cocks. The bigger the better. I like men with big, hairy chests. I was not homophobic, but I didn’t think I could switch hit.
She just smiled and said fair enough. Then she asked if I would have drinks with her after we left the gym. I said I would go – she seemed very nice, even if she didn’t like the usual man-parts.
We walked a couple of blocks to a bar which was definitely not a gay bar. Several guys came up and tried to buy us drinks, but we declined. We just talked. It was nice to speak with an intelligent woman who wasn’t part of the usual gang. I was having such a good time I wasn’t watching how much I had to drink. I had a good buzz going.
She said her apartment wasn’t that far away and I could go with her and she would fix some coffee. That seemed like a plan, so I went. I know – you think I was an idiot.
Well, as it goes we got to her place and she made the move. I was drunk and thought, so what? Let me tell you, after she kissed me the first time I understood why men like women so much. Her lips were so soft as was her tongue. It was like kissing a juicy, ripe peach. I think I could have let her kiss me for hours.
She began to unbutton my blouse and I had to stop her. I told her the kissing was dynamite, but there was no way I could service another woman. She said she didn’t want anything from me. She wanted to please me and show me how good things could be. I just had to relax. She took me to her very feminine bedroom and we got naked. She pulled back the covers and we slid onto some very luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets.
It’s one thing to feel a hairy man’s chest brush across your tits, but it is definitely a different sensation to feel another set of breasts with puckered nipples swing back a forth against your ladies. It gave me goose bumps and I must confess I began to get wet. Yes, her lips and tongue were soft against my mouth, but when she pulled one of my nipples and began sucking on it, I felt like I was on a cotton candy cloud. If you can imagine a big pink puff of the sugary concoction, then you can imagine the softness.
She made her way down to my pussy and took my clit in that soft palate and began licking, teasing and sucking. I thought I was going to lose my mind. I realized I didn’t want a woman’s head between my legs; I wanted a big cock blasting into me. She seemed to sense my needs because she stopped for just a minute and got up. When she came back she had a very generous vibrator in her hand. She used the end of it to continue to tease my clit.
Then she covered it with a condom and added some extra lube – why I don’t know because I was totally slick. She tuned the vibe up to high and fucked me with the vibrator while she still played with my clit. My orgasm hit like a tidal wave and I wasn’t very quiet about it. When I rode out the wave I looked down and she was fucking herself with the vibrator and then she came, too.
We just laid there and talked for a while. There was no cuddling, which was fine with me. But it was a great big O. I have never had one like it. Then I was sober enough to drive home.
My husband asked where I had been. I just said I had been out for drinks with a woman from the gym. No less, no more. He was watching me strangely but I did not say anymore to him. Now he tells me I have not been acting like myself and I tell him he’s just as crazy as he always is. Actually, he is being overly nice and being more attentive. I like that.
Will I ever switch to the other team? Absolutely not. Will I ever be the center of an all-female review again? I do not plan on it. I do not regret what I did. But it is like certain rollercoasters. Once is enough.
They say that married people should have no secrets. I say phooey. This is a secret I will share with no one. I’ve told you – but you do not know who I am. Certain experiences are meant to be shared.