Fucking Lesbeaux: A Love Story

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Amy stood in front of the mirror wrapped in her old flannel robe and stared at herself. “This is it, girl. If there’s going to be a New Amy you have to start right now.” It had been a month since her divorce had been finalized and she had kept pretty close to the house, rarely going out except to go to work.

Her marriage had never been a happy one. Not that Paul was mean or abusive, it’s just that Amy discovered that she didn’t love him. When she asked herself why she’d married, the only thing she could come up with was the fact that she had been twenty-five years old and everyone told her she needed a husband. They were wrong. She never felt comfortable being intimate with Paul, even though he was her husband. She’d tried, but marital sex just made her more unhappy.

And of course she’d let herself go. As the years passed, the pounds came on. Not really fat – flabby would be more accurate. Then, at age thirty-five, Paul left her. To add insult to injury, it wasn’t for an attractive young thing. Paul left her for a woman six years older.

As she looked at herself Amy realized that the shapeless robe was a shield she hid behind. Nothing could be more unflattering. Finally she got up the nerve and, with a shudder, she pulled the robe open and let it drop to the floor, exposing herself to the mirror. “Definitely flabby,” she thought, staring at the image of a woman overweight and sagging everywhere. “You are going to change – starting today,” she told the woman in the mirror. “And you’re gonna get rid of this ugly robe.” Well, sorta get rid of it. She actually stuffed it in the back of the linen closet and tried to forget it was there.

The next day she did two things: joined a health club and bought new, sexy underwear, which she had no intention of wearing until she felt she had earned them. She had a goal, and that was to be sexy and desirable.

Shortly after Amy started going to the club to work out Laurel joined. Laurel was, like Amy, thirty-five and overweight. Unlike Amy, she’d never been married. “Never got around to it,” was her excuse. “Too busy with work and stuff. Actually I never even dated much. Just not interested.” Amy wished she’d done the same and avoided the tragedy that had been her marriage.

Over the next six months the two women became workout buddies. Together they lifted hundreds of pounds of weights, climbed a thousand mechanical stairs, and tried out every machine the club had to offer. After each workout they would shower, then both would cover as much as possible with towels before going to their lockers to get dressed. Neither Amy nor Laurel felt confident enough with her body to expose it to the other women, most of whom were just as out of shape as they.

Often after their workouts Amy and Laurel would go to the club lounge where, while drinking oddly colored vegetable drinks, they would discuss their goals and progress and their lives. Soon the two of them became close friends, close enough Amy was able to confide about her failed marriage and her feelings of inadequacy. That’s also where Laurel told Amy about her own lack of a love-life. They both vowed to support the other when the loneliness became hard to take and their goals seemed so far away.

Then there was Celeste. Celeste was a little younger than Amy, but without an ounce of flab on her. Long red hair, high firm breasts, slender waist and hips that every woman coveted. Celeste wasn’t the least bit shy about showing off, usually leaving the shower to dry off in the open, then discarding her towel before casually walking to her locker, seemingly unconscious of her nudity. Both Amy and Laurel did everything they could to keep from staring at Celeste’s beautiful body.

Laurel and Amy talked about how beautiful and sexy Celeste was, each saying how she wished she was anywhere near as attractive as the redhead. “Hell, I’d walk naked through the whole gym if I looked that good,” Laurel contended. Amy wasn’t sure she’d go that far, but she’d certainly start wearing those undies she had hidden away.

It took a while for Amy to admit to herself (only herself) that she didn’t just covet Celeste’s beautiful body – she was coming to desire it. She wanted to run her hands down that perfect skin, over the soft, feminine curves of her breasts and hips. She thought about teasing her pointy nipples with the tips of her fingers, and, when alone at night, she let herself imagine what it would be like to kiss and suck on those breasts.

Since she was a teen-ager Amy had had a lover. Nameless. Faceless. Genderless. When Amy touched herself, pleasured herself, it was her lover who was touching her. When she let her fingers find the special places that led to sexual release, in the fantasy of her mind it was the lover who had brought her to climax.

Even in the early years of her marriage, when she still thought she loved Paul, his face never showed up on the phantom lover. And Paul never caused her to orgasm either, unless she closed her eyes and let her lover help him. Yet despite the fact she barely knew Celeste – they’d hardly even spoken – it was Celeste’s face that began to appear on her longtime anonymous lover. Finally Amy had to admit it, she was not casino oyna only envious of the redhead, she actually was aching to give herself to the beautiful woman.

Although they never talked openly about it, Amy was pretty sure Laurel felt the same. She could see that her friend had trouble taking her eyes off Celeste, especially when she was wandering around the locker room so casual in her nudity. Amy wondered, but never asked, if Laurel too got a little wet as they watched the naked Celeste brush her hair or apply make-up. Did that perfect body cry out to Laurel as it did to Amy, asking her to touch it, to kiss it, to make love to it?

Exactly nine months after standing in front of the mirror and ditching the flannel robe, Amy stood there naked again. “Not bad,” she told herself. “Not in Celestes’s league, but not bad at all.” Her breasts were finally pointing up rather than down, a tribute to the underlying muscles which Amy and worked to tighten. Her waist was once more in reasonable proportion to her curves. And her ass was rounder and tighter, looking even more so by the thin musculature of her legs and thighs. As a reward for her achievements, Amy stuck some of the sexiest undies in her gym bag. She wasn’t ready to wear them, not yet, but she felt close enough to at least have them at hand.

It was the following week that Amy began her aerobics class. She really didn’t like aerobics, but had joined the class because Celeste was taking it. She managed to find a place behind and to one side of the beautiful redhead and, while she didn’t care for the exercises, the view was wonderful. Especially when Celeste would turn around and Amy could detect the dampness at the other woman’s crotch. In her head she knew this was simply sweat caused by the exertion, but in her imagination the dampness had a sexual source. That night her faithful lover morphed completely into the woman she desired so much and Amy climaxed crying out the name of Celeste.

Laurel’s work schedule didn’t allow her to take the class, and she usually arrived at the gym some time after it was over. She did tell Amy that she missed working out with her. She also admitted she missed seeing Celeste in the locker room. “That girl is a real knock-out. If it wasn’t so kinky, I could get the hots for her. Amy suspected that Laurel already had the hots for Celeste – just has she had. Amy had stopped thinking of it as kinky a long time before.

Meeting in class three times a week, Amy and Celeste became better acquainted. Although she was over-endowed in looks, Amy found that the woman wasn’t particularly bright. She mainly seemed to think about her looks and whether others appreciated them. Nevertheless the two women became friendly. When Amy finally got up her nerve and ditched the towel after showering, parading her own nudity between the lockers, Celeste complimented her on how much progress she’d made. Amy glowed all over, knowing the woman she was so infatuated with was admiring her own body. That night Amy brought herself to a series of the most explosive orgasms she’d ever experienced while imagining Celeste making love to her.

It was the following Friday evening after class when Celeste and Amy were doing their hair in front of the locker room mirror that Celeste said, “Say, why don’t the two of us go down to the lounge for a drink. Maybe we could go out later and have some fun.”

Amy thought she’d died and gone to heaven. With her heart in her mouth she managed so say, “Sounds great to me. Let’s get dressed.” Reaching into her gym bag Amy finally let herself pull out the sexy lingerie she’d been promising herself. “Finally,” she thought. “I’m finally ready.”

As she pulled on the tiny thong panty Celeste glanced over and whistled. “Wow, great knickers. Someone may get lucky tonight.”

“Shit, I hope so,” Amy thought, smiling at the compliment. “And I hope it’s me.” Amy felt like a high-school girl who had jut been asked by the captain of the football team if she would carry his books home.

Sitting across the table from Celeste in the lounge Amy sipped at her drink which looked like a raspberry shake but tasted suspiciously of beets and carrots. The redhead took a sip of hers and made a small face. “I know this stuff is good for you, especially after a workout, but it sure leaves a lot to be desired in the taste department. Let’s finish these and go somewhere we can have a real drink.”

“Sounds good to me. Where were you thinking?” Amy herself was thinking of a bar called ‘Jeune Filles,’ where women were said to feel free expressing their feelings for other women. Instead Celeste said ‘Bobbysox,’ a well known ‘meat market.’

“As good as we look, bet the guys’ll be drooling all over themselves to buy us drinks.” Even that thought excited Amy because she would be the one the guys envied, the one with the most beautiful date in the place. She was still smiling about that when suddenly Celeste said, “Look over there,” directing her attention to a booth in the corner. Turning Amy saw two young women sitting side-by-side, holding hands and staring lovingly in each other’s eyes.

As she watched the two began kissing. Amy was so turned on by what she was watching canlı casino she had trouble breathing. They were doing exactly what she imaged she and Celeste would be doing soon. But her companion’s next comment hit her like a blow to the stomach. “Fucking lesbos! That’s disgusting.” As the kiss got more passionate Celeste added, “They ought to throw those freaks out of here.”

Turning back to the table, Amy took a long sip of her drink, hoping to disguise the humiliation and disappointment she felt. “I can see they make you sick, too,” Celeste said. “C’mon, lets go hit the bars. Maybe find a couple of young studs to help us forget those queers. God, that’s repulsive.”

Amy was mortified. Did Celeste know? Know what she had been wanting? How could she have been so stupid, so blind, to hope that the beautiful woman would even be interested in her. Especially when it was clear what the redhead thought of women who loved each other. It was all Amy could do to talk. “I better not,” she managed to say. “I’m . . . uh . . . not feeling good.”

“Oh honey,” Celeste said, taking her hand. “Did those freaks upset you that much?”

“No, not them,” Amy said, trying not to recoil from the touch that only moments before she had been longing for. “I think I shouldn’t have worked out today. I guess . . . I guess it was the wrong time. You know?”

“Baby, I’m sorry. I know how sometimes that’ll sneak up on you.”

“Yeah, I better go home. You go on and have a good time. Don’t worry about me.” Amy was sure she wouldn’t.

Somehow she made it to her car without losing too much composure. But once there the flood gates opened. Leaning her head against the steering wheel, Amy was wracked with sobs. “So stupid,” she repeated to herself. “You stupid, stupid freak.” Her bawling had subsided to a steady weeping when there was a rap on her window. Amy jumped, afraid she’d see the redhead at her window. A wave of relief flowed over her when she saw it was Laurel instead.

Rolling down the window, her friend said, “Amy, what’s wrong?”

“N . . . n . . . nothing,” Amy lied unconvincingly.

“Yes there is. Unlock the doors and let me in with you,” Laurel insisted. Amy hit the switch for the door locks while Laurel walked around the car. As soon as she was seated Laurel put her arms around Amy and made soothing sounds. Amy let Laurel pull her to her and began weeping again on her friend’s shoulder.

Slowly the story came out. How Celeste had invited her out for drinks. How excited she had been and what she had hoped for. “I thought it was a date,” she confided between sobs. “I wanted her. Wanted her to touch me, and let me touch her. Oh shit, I wanted to make love to her.”

Then she told Laurel about the two girls kissing. “I was so excited. I thought it was turning Celeste on. Instead, ‘Fucking Lesbos,’ she called them. Queers. Freaks. Disgusting.” With that, Amy started sobbing uncontrollably in her friends arms. “I never felt so humiliated in my life. She hates me. Hates what I’m becoming.”

“Oh honey,” Laurel said soothingly. “She wasn’t talking about you. She didn’t even know.”

“She didn’t have to. I knew. And I knew I was nothing but a fucking lesbo. And I didn’t even get fucked.”

“Amy darling, I hate to tell you this but women don’t fuck each other. Not possible,” Laurel said trying to lighten the mood.

“I know what women do. What I wanted to do. But she hates that, and she’d hate me if she knew that’s what I wanted.”

“Hmm, ‘lesbos,” Laurel said, still trying to cheer her friend up. Bet that’s French. Probably spelled L-e-s-b-e-a-u-x. Wonder what it means.

Her attempt at levity didn’t work. “It means ‘dykes.’ Like me,” Amy replied, sobbing again.

The two women sat for a while with their arms around each other. Finally Laurel spoke up and said, “Let’s change places and I’ll drive you home. You need to get cleaned up, darling. You look like hell.”

“Thanks,” Amy said. Then she looked in the mirror and saw her own tear-stained face. “You’re right, I do look like hell.” After agreeing that she’d bring Laurel back for her car later, Amy let her friend drive them to her house.

Once inside, Laurel told Amy to get cleaned up while she fixed them some tea. “Bring it to the bedroom, okay,” Amy said. “I want to lay down a while.”

As Laurel went to the kitchen to boil water Amy went into the bathroom and washed the runny make-up off her face. Stripping, she looked at herself in the mirror and found that her skin was covered with red splotches from her bawling.

Still holding back sobs, Amy took off her pretty underwear and stuffed them in the hamper. “You don’t deserve these,” she said, “and maybe you never will. Then she dug her old flannel robe out of the closet and tied it around her.

When Laurel got there with the tea Amy was sitting on the bed, her back against the headboard. After putting the cups down on the night stand, Laurel sat on the edge of the bed next to her. The two women drank in silence a few minutes before setting their cups back down.

“Thank you, Laurel. For being so kind and understanding.”

“Amy darling, I’d do anything for you. You are the best friend I’ve ever kaçak casino had.” Despite what she had gone through, Amy felt herself smiling.

“Besides, you are a such a lovely woman,” Laurel went on, brushing Amy’s hair back with her hand. “So lovely,” she said as her fingertips touched Amy’s cheek.

“I don’t feel lovely,” Amy said. “I thought I did, but I was wrong. I’m certainly not beautiful, like Celeste.”

“Honey, Celeste is gorgeous because that’s all she wants to be. There’s nothing else there, only her looks and her self-absorption.” Amy nodded, trying to be convinced.

“But your beauty,” Laurel went on. “Your beauty goes much deeper. You are a beautiful woman inside as well as out.” Then she touched the collar of Amy’s robe. “Of course, this thing sure hides that.”

Amy smiled and said, “It’s my coat of armor. I used to wear this hoping it would turn Paul off and he wouldn’t want to have sex.”

“I bet it worked,” Laurel said with a laugh.

“Not often enough,” Amy replied.

Looking more serious, Laurel said, “I want to see the real you.” With that she untied the robe and pulled it open, displaying Amy’s full body. “So lovely,” she said quietly. Amy held her breath as Laurel’s hands traced their way down her cheeks, along the sides of her breasts and the outside of her thighs. Then slowly Laurel moved her hands back up over the tops of Amy’s legs. Her fingers lightly brushed the curls at Amy’s crotch before sliding over her belly and coming to rest on her breasts. Amy looked down and saw her friends hands cupping her boobs. She gave a short intake of breath as the fingers softly rolled her nipples. Amy could feel them harden under the woman’s caress. Laurel touched each of the hard points with her lips. Then she placed her lips against Amy’s. Amy held perfectly still, afraid even to breath, afraid to break the spell. It wasn’t really a kiss, just two women sharing the touch of their lips.

Finally Amy put her hands on her friend’s shoulders and pushed her back upright. “My turn now,” she said softly. “I want to see you.” Laurel sat still while Amy opened the buttons on her blouse, then pulled it back. Reaching around her, Amy started trying to unhook the bra. “Damn,” she said as she struggled with the clasp. “Teen-aged boys can do this one-handed.”

“Well, you’re not a teen-aged boy,” Laurel said with a grin.

“How can you tell?”

Reaching down and patted Amy’s crotch, Laurel said, “Because if you were there’d be something to hang on to here.”

Amy put her hand on Laurel’s and moved it to her breast. “Well, you can hang on here anytime you want.” Then, as Laurel squeezed her tit and pinched the nipple Amy sighed, “Oh yeah, anytime.”

The clasp finally mastered, Amy pulled the bra down and took Laurels breasts in her hands, her thumbs rubbing the nipples. She leaned forward and sucked the tip of first one, then the other between her lips. Laurel let out a low “mmmm” as Amy ran her tongue over the sensitive skin.

Laurel let Amy remove her blouse and bra. Then Amy asked, “Would you mind getting naked for me?”

“Honey, I wouldn’t mind at all.” As Laurel stood and removed her shorts and panties, Amy got the robe out from under her and handed it to her friend who threw it across the room. “Don’t think you’re gonna be needing that for a while,” she said with a smile.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Naked, Laurel laid down on the bed next to Amy and took her friend in her arms. They lay together, their breasts and hips touching, and looked in each other’s eyes a few moments. Then Amy opened her mouth and put it over Laurel’s. There was no pretense or hesitancy this time as they kissed passionately, their tongues exploring each other. Amy’s hand went down Laurel’s back until she was cupping the other woman’s butt, pulling her hard against her. She opened her legs slightly and soon each woman was rubbing her most private parts against the other’s thigh. Amy could feel the heat and moistness of the other woman’s sex and knew her own pussy was equally wet and hot.

Finally Amy asked quietly, “Have you ever . . .?”

“No. Never,” Laurel responded. Neither had to state out loud what she was asking but they both knew.

Amy pushed Laurel onto her back and pulled her body up on top. Holding Laurel’s face in her hands she looked her in the eyes and said, “I’m going to make love to you now.” Not a question, just a statement.

“I want that. Oh god yes, I want that so much.”

Amy pressed her mouth to Laurel’s once more, then moved downward, kissing her chin, then the curve of her neck. She stopped her downward movement long enough to suck hard on each of the other women’s tits, encouraged by the happy sounds this caused. Then down again, planting tiny kisses over the soft belly of her lover. Finally she knelt between Laurel’s open legs and just looked at the woman’s sex. “So beautiful,” Amy said quietly. And it was. She had never seen a vagina that close before and it was even more inviting than she had imagined. The labia was red and swollen, in anticipation of what would come. She could see the clitoris, pressing up against its hood as if looking for attention. The scent of her friend’s desire intoxicated and emboldened her. “Mmm,” Laurel breathed as Amy ran her fingers up her moist lips. Then the moan turned to a growl as Amy pressed the flat of her tongue against the Little Man.

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