Letting Go With Cyndi

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A woman fulfills inexperienced desires with another woman.
6.7k words
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My name is Courtney. Until last week, I was the picture perfect example of your everyday run-like-crazy soccer mom, with too much to do and too little time to do it in. My husband and I try to make time for each other in the time we have but, as with most marriages, the time spent seems too far apart and often rushed. Don't get me wrong, we love each other dearly but it seems like we struggle to find that extra bit of excitement that we had when we were just starting out. His name is David, he works out, takes care of himself, and is frightfully handsome with dark hair and eyes and a great body. I often times masturbate at the thought of him making love to me, his toned body thrusting that beautiful penis in me and his wonderfully intense eyes as he orgasms and fills me full of his cum. As a salesman, he travels extensively though I have never worried that he would seek to fill the void that we have at times in the bedroom. After the events of the last month, I know for a fact that he would never even try.

As for me, I am told that I have held up very well despite having three children, the last one having been born a little over four years ago. I work out as well, though I think my busy schedule and constant intake of caffeine to be the real reason why my baby weight shed so quickly. Like I said, I am that picture perfect soccer mom, with blonde hair and blue eyes and a pretty little figure that I have always been proud of that catches the eye of both men and women alike. I thrive on the attention I can bring with my body. During those days that I am feeling really sexy, I sometimes will dress in an outfit that brings out my best assets and just go out shopping, or whatever, in order to see what reactions I get. Secretly, I am incredibly turned on by the looks and glances that I receive. It is an incredible turn on. I often wear a short skirt without panties and this adds to the excitement, so much so that I have masturbated in more strange places than even my husband knows of, not that I intentionally keep anything from him. I am not gay or even bi for that matter as I love the male form, especially David's, but I very much like it when women pay attention to me. This, by far is, one of my biggest turn-ons. I guess I have just been curious about what it would be like to experience a woman, more so, how it would feel to have another woman's skin next to mine. This is a fantasy that I had kept to our bedroom, and David is the only person in the world that knew that I harbored those feelings, and much to his excitement, we used it in role play or dirty talk on occasion.

About a month ago, I was in one of those moods. I had gotten up early and gone for a short jog after getting our kids to school. David had left on a trip to a convention in another state and I missed him. Our conversation had turned explicit the night before and I had talked dirty to him on the phone just before he went to bed. I brought myself to orgasm while he listened to me and I could hear the quickening of his breath and sounds of him stroking his cock as he did. I could almost feel his release as he came as well, and could just picture the semen flowing over his hand as he tensed up. We had the ability to please each other, even if we were 1000 miles away from touching. Even so, I went to bed with sex on my mind and it filled my dreams that night.

So, I got up, took the kids to school and put on my favorite pair of shorts. These were just the right length to catch the wayward eye and just a little too tight in the crotch, which made for orgasmic friction if I ran just right. I jogged for about 30 minutes and instead of turning back into our subdivision, kept heading to the corner where there is a Starbucks Coffee shop that I frequent. I ordered my usual and had a seat on the patio.

I love to people watch and this day was no exception. Along with the morning regulars, there was a woman that I had never seen. I don't know what caught my eye and made me pay attention to her like I did, though I am very glad looking back. She was in her mid-twenties, I guess, with very long, straight, blonde hair that fell over her head as she was looking down at something. Dressed in yoga pants and a shirt that held tightly to her body, I was immediately drawn to her slight curves and figure. She was very pretty, and as I looked, I traced her lines and realized that she wasn't wearing a bra, as I could pick out a faint outline of a nipple. Her breasts were perky, with that French curve that David likes, hell, even I enjoy looking at. I traced my eyes around her body, now partially exposed in my mind, and let it wander as I sipped my latte.

Like I said, I had never considered myself anything but curious when it came to women. I think all women are that way in some way or another. I appreciate the soft beauty that a woman has, her shape, and her hair. I am a big fan of the doe-eyed faces some women have. I think it is the innocence that these features portray that I am attracted to, even if it is merely superficial. I would be lying if I said that I didn't often times masturbate at the thought of another woman's body on mine. Her touch, the way she smells, her hair, oh my God her hair! The way a woman's private parts are so intricate and delicate, like a flower. This thought is incredible arousing to me and even writing this, my own clitoris begins to swell. I have on more than one occasion sat with my legs spread in front of my mirror while I touched myself. My own hair hiding my face as I peeked out to watch another woman show me her body. The fantasy there is something that I had, to this point, never even shared with my own husband. Though I played with these thoughts in my head, I never could see myself reciprocating pleasure for a woman in return. I think the thought was intimidating to me, or maybe I had just repressed thoughts that I deemed to be too taboo to discuss or even think about. Maybe I was scared, maybe I was afraid of what I would unleash should I ever try to let go. I don't think I will ever know.

Eventually she looked up and I almost gasped at her facial beauty. This girl was absolutely gorgeous. She had large eyes, though I couldn't tell the color. She had been staring down at a piece of paper and as she looked up, and out past the crowd on the patio, I could tell that she had been crying. I guess it's the mother in me that eventually made me get up and introduce myself. I think moms are programmed to help when they see tears.

"Excuse me, are you OK?" I asked as I approached her table.

She looked up at me, startled at first, and gave me a half smile. "Um, yeah, I'm sorry..." as she wiped her face. "I'm OK, I didn't know it was that obvious." She said meekly and tried to avert her gaze. "I'm just dealing with a lot right now and it all just hit me at once."

I don't know what made me want to approach her the way I did. Sure, she was very pretty, but there was something else. "My name is Courtney," I said "Can I get anything for you? I saw you from over there and it just seemed that you were sad."

She looked up at me with her big eyes, now defined by an ice blue color bordered by the irritated red, skin caused by her tears, "I'm Cyndi, thanks... But I'll be OK. It's just that..." she began.

What would have been a normal, concerned conversation from one strange woman to another that should have lasted 5 minutes, turned into 3 hours with her on that patio. Cyndi related to me how she had moved from her home state to be with her boyfriend of six months and settle down. Like most relationships of this kind, it ended as fast as it started. The paper she had been reading was a letter that she had found on her pillow. Her plans had been to just pack her things and go home but she had stopped by Starbucks to think. All of the possessions that she had accumulated over her 26 years were in her car, a beat up Ford Bronco in the parking lot.

We continued to talk, and as we did, I began to realize that I really liked this girl. She was very sweet and managed to put on the cutest little smile from time to time as she listened to me. In spite of what was an obvious set back in her life, she was keeping a level head and was, at the very least, trying to be positive. I immediately felt a bond and thought I would try to help her out.

"Hey, just a thought, but if you need to recoup your thoughts and hang out for little while and figure out what you are going to do, my house is just right up the street." I said.

She thought for a second before responding, "You know, I really couldn't. I appreciate your help and talking to me and all, but I don't want to get in the way." Then she added, "I think I just need to go and get home. I am a mess right now."

Not taking "no" for an answer, I told her that it wasn't a problem at all and, in fact, my husband was out of town for a few days so she could even stay a night if she liked. Apprehensively, she agreed, "OK, I appreciate it, but just for a few hours. I really do not want to get in your way." I could see the faint smile of relief as we headed out to her car. From past life experience, I knew exactly what she was going through and was glad I could provide some relief.

We were quiet as I led her into our housing area. Turning on our street, her eyes dropped at the size of the houses. I have been incredibly blessed when it comes to being able to live in such an area and sometimes a reminder is all I need to realize how lucky I am. For some reason, I wanted to share this with her, though I had not figured out why.

We spent the day just talking like old friends. She came from a poorer family and had two brothers. I think we really hit it off. As the hours ticked away, I realized that she would not have time to complete her drive and offered a guest room to her for the night, which she accepted with a look of relief on her face.

She brought her clothes in from her car, and sheepishly asked me if there was any way that she could put a load of laundry in to wash as she had not been able to do any before she left. I told her that my home was hers and that she need not ask for anything. I then pointed out that if she needed a bath, that she could use my bathroom.

It was then that I realized that it was almost four o'clock and I was going to be late to pick up my kids. This wasn't a first for me, it seemed like I was always late doing something! I left her as I bolted out the door to try to make it on time. Of course, about half way to the school, I realized that I had left my purse on my counter top and turned around to retrieve it, as I wanted to pick up a few things for dinner along with a bottle of wine.

Entering the house, I could hear the bath running in the master bedroom and as I turned to leave again, I was suddenly struck with the thought that this woman was about to be, or was already naked in my bathroom. I don't know what got into me as I again turned and quietly walked in to the bedroom.

The water was running, and I could smell the soap that was already in the water. The door to the bathroom was cracked slightly and I just stood, searching for movement on the other side. As I began to approach the door, a shadow on the other side signaled that she was not in the bath yet, but probably putting her hair up like I did before I bathed. I peeked in though the crack and saw her there, standing in front of the mirror, nude.

I gasped at her beauty. Her skin was toned and fair, soft in the light of the room. I was watching her from behind and her lines were just as I expected and very appealing. I felt dirty, like a peeping Tom, looking at her as she stood there not knowing. I didn't want to violate her privacy, but I could not avert my eyes from her body. I felt naughty, excited.

Her legs, toned and smooth, led up to the tight crack that began the cutest little ass. Looking through to the mirror, I saw her features from the front. Her wonderfully perky breasts were tipped with small, pink nipples that seemed to stand tightly erect. My eyes flowed over her soft mounds and down her belly, framed with definition and then further down to a very small and neatly trimmed patch of hair that sat atop puffy lips. I could see that her inner labia, like mine, extended past her outer lips only to disappear where they joined at the top. I was intrigued, and very aroused. I was also very late, and turned quickly to leave.

On arriving home, I introduced the kiddos to my new friend. We had a nice dinner and afterwards, got everyone ready for bed. As the night hours hit, and the children were in bed, I took a bath myself, and changed into my sleep clothes, basically a t-shirt and panties. Cyndi didn't have anything that she thought she could wear and walk around the house in so I gave her an old button up shirt of my husbands and some boxers. She looked very cute wearing them.

I opened a bottle of wine and we began to talk again. I swear talking to her was like talking to an old friend. Coupled with the wine, we really opened up to each other.

"So what happened with this guy?" I asked.

"He was a self-absorbed asshole," she began, "one of those types that only thinks of himself. You know, great to look at but selfish in every way, including the bedroom."

She went on to say that he was into video games, fucked her when he wanted to and never, ever thought of how she felt. "He never even tried to please me, I felt like I was just his sex toy. He had absolutely no interest in spending more time than it took for him to get off..."

"Typical guy that will never grow up." I explained ," I am sure that he will one day figure out what he left behind." I continued by saying, "Cyndi, you are absolutely gorgeous, any man would be so lucky to be with you. Never take anything less than what you want in a relationship."

By this time, the wine was really starting to wear on us both. I thought about what I saw in the bathroom earlier that day and it stirred me in a way that I have not ever felt. I wanted to feel this woman, I wanted to hold her. I wanted to give her pleasure, but I had no idea how to.

Looking over at Cyndi, I could see she was beginning to nod off. The poor girl must have been exhausted. After all that she had been through and of course the wine, she was ready for sleep. I helped her to her room and laid her down on the bed and began to tuck her in. I asked her if she needed anything, to which she did not respond. She was asleep.

A sat on the edge of the bed and just looked at her. I knew I shouldn't even be feeling the things I was but I could not help it. She was there, vulnerable, eyes closed and beautiful even as she just laid there. I traced my fingers around her pretty face, soothingly, as I would put my own child to sleep. She was stunning, laying there in my husband's shirt and boxers.

Without really thinking about it, my hands fell from tracing lines on her face to the first button on her shirt, which I carefully and slowly unfastened. I moved to the next, and then the next until all had been undone, leaving only the task of carefully parting the garment. I opened the shirt and exposed her breasts, now wonderfully positioned in the light. She was truly angelic lying there, nipples taught like little pink balls surrounded by delicious white flesh.

I have never felt another woman's breast before in my life and even with a pair of my own was unsure of how hers would feel as I cupped the underside of one and ran my hand over it. I had become so aroused by the thought of what I was doing, the secretiveness, and the forbidden nature of it. I was throbbing between my legs as I leaned down and gently kissed, and then took one nipple into my mouth. The feeling was of pure ecstasy as I felt the little nub against my tongue. Without really thinking, I removed my shirt and just laid my chest on hers, our nipples touching each other's. Her skin was soft, and freshly lotioned, I could not help myself as my hand wandered into my panties and found my clit. I rubbed softly, yet quickly to a hard orgasm. My body shook as I felt her soft breasts press on mine.

As soon as I came, I immediately knew that I had done something wrong. I buttoned her shirt up and left, looking back to make sure she had not been awake. I felt dirty as if I had just used my new found friend for exactly the same reason that her boyfriend did. Even so, I was still so incredibly aroused and confused. What on earth had I done?

That night, before bed, David called and I told him about the house guest. I went as far as telling him about the view in the bathroom, if for nothing else, to get a rise out of him. Just as I thought, he was incredibly hot at the idea of another woman in the house. I couldn't bring myself to tell him about my orgasm with her. I don't know why, I know that he would have been as excited as I was.

Cyndi ended up staying with us for a few weeks. She decided that she liked the area and was going to continue with her search for employment in the area, and we allowed her to stay. I never mentioned the night where I violated her space. I know it's because I felt guilty for having broken that trust.

I still wanted to be with her though. I yearned to feel what it would feel like if she could only go down on me. I feared that I was becoming obsessed with her. David returned from a trip one afternoon and I asked him what he thought about her. I got the typical male answer, "she's hot!"

As David and I went to bed that night, I got in bed and snuggled up to him. My hand moved across his belly and then quickly caressed his dick through his shorts. That was usually my sign that I wanted more and was never refused. We began to make out and kissed deeply. I wanted to experience this woman but had come to the conclusion that in order to do so, I would have to involve him, even if just by telling him. As we made out, I slipped his shorts off and exposed his half erect penis. I love it when it is this way, the veins seem to softly pop out and it's the arousal of my husband that I can get a huge kick from. He sighed and lay back as I took his semi-soft cock in one hand and kissed his belly on my way down to meet it. Gasping as I drew his soft head into my mouth, I could feel his body relax even as he began to swell and harden in my mouth. I rolled my tongue over his tip and then down his shaft, making sure to pause at that sensitive area just under the tip. As he grew, and his excitement built, he began to move his hips, rhythmically thrusting his cock into my mouth, letting out little moans of pleasure as I brought him closer to climax. As he neared orgasm, I could hear his breathing quicken and then felt the tell-tale swelling of the tip of his penis as he came, a dribble at first followed by long spurts of thick semen which I felt in my mouth and allowed to run down his shaft. He shuddered as I sucked the last few drops from him.

As we drifted to sleep, I wondered if he would even be open to the idea of a possible threesome with Cyndi. On top of that, I had no idea if she would want to or even how to bring it up to her. I dreamed of her body next to mine and woke up guilty for doing so.

A few days later, Cyndi and I were in the kitchen and talking about her plans to take a job in a neighboring city. She had scouted out an apartment and we joked about how we would never see each other again, even as close as we would live. One thing led to another and I finally just had to let it out, I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Cyndi, I have been meaning to tell you something" I stammered. "I don't know how to get this out but it has been bothering me since the first day you were here"

I continued in broken sentences but managed to get out how we had drank that night she arrived, and that I had taken her to her bedroom. I started to tell her how I had violated her trust when her eyes softened and she held out a finger.

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