Crickets Ch. 01

Lesbian - Bi-curious wife Jessica is seduced by Kristina

Author's notes: Warning! This is a lesbian sex story, without any direct male sexual involvement. This hopefully will be hot enough to be a 'Jill' off story for the people who like these themes, as it does have a lot of sex in it. For those who don't like these themes please move along. Constructive comments are appreciated, hate speech will be deleted.

All characters are eighteen or older at the time any sexual contact in this story takes place.

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I'm Jessica and I am told I look a lot like the character Penelope Garcia from the show "Criminal Minds". I even sometimes get mistaken for her at malls and such, it's quite embarrassing. I've been going to Weight Watchers (WW) for years, but only in the past year have I made any real progress. Real fucking progress, 100 pounds worth of every damn day hard work and exercise progress. I owe most of that to two people, my WW friend Kristina, and my husband Jim. Jim has been so supportive, cooking his own meals, and redoing our budget to afford the new wardrobe every three months. Kris has been my coach, my friend, my confidant.

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It all started last year when Kris and I met at Weight Watchers. She'd just moved to our city, but she'd gone from 300 pounds down to 150 (over three to four years). Then after some lipo and skin tuck surgery (plus breast implants) she looked like Kirstie Alley, crossed with Christie Brinkley. We are talking supermodel hot, super sexy, and super fun to be with. She needed someone to show her the town, and she picked me. I may never understand how I got that lucky, but I did.

I never got the sense Kris is a man hater. She hangs herself all over Jim when we are together, making me jealous of both of them. She spends just as much time all over me. Kris is a very touchy-feely person with everybody, without much in the way of boundaries, or filter for conversations.

Luckily we don't live far from each other, the town is so spread out, but her apartment is walking distance from our house. So we started going to breakfast after the early morning Saturday meeting we met at, then soon we were car pooling. I'd pick her up and then drop her off at her apartment. We'd kiss each cheek, very continental.

We often have her over for dinner, since she and I ate from the same menu. Jim didn't mind, since the first time she came over she gave him a hug, and his is all gentlemanly, so she moves his hands to her ass and tells him to give her a good feel. She explains she was the ugly ducking for so long, nobody wanted to touch her, now they think she is too hot to touch. Gawd, I craved to know just how that felt! But I pouted for two weeks, while Jim was squeezing her Charmin. He noticed right away and started being much more grab-ass with me, but it wasn't until Kris sorted me out that I actually felt better about myself.

The next time she came over, she asked me what is wrong. We dance around the issue until she finally pins me down.

"Jess, you are such a mess! Jim touches me a little and you get all jealous?" Kris chuckles, in amusement at my predicament.

"No, that isn't it at all. I couldn't blame Jim for wanting to be all over you. I've even given him a 'Hall Pass' with your name on it. It's true, he keeps it in his wallet!" I defended, nearly in tears.

Sure enough, Kris checks. Then she grabs Jim and kisses him so hard and for so long I thought they were just going to go at it right there. Jim is certainly ready to do so, if your know what I mean, with a missile ready to launch right in his pants! I couldn't blame him. I often get wet for no real reason other than Kris being around, so I am not the least bit surprised that he is hard. But it did take a long time to go back down.

So Kris goes into the house, probably needed to use the loo, and comes back out with a piece of paper, then has Jim sign it. She returns to me, tears streaming down my face, as I'm sure I'm going to lose my husband to this super vixen.

Kris promptly kisses me hello, just like normal except this time on the lips, but she grabs my butt and massages it after putting my hands on hers. She is so firm from her workouts, and I'm still fluffy butt, but at least I'm on equal terms with Jim. Pulling my chin up to look at her, she gives me a brief brush of her lips, that electrifies my soul. Our eyes meet and I'm sure she can see my soul.

"You now have a hall pass, just like Jim's. You can do anything you want with me. So sometime in the future, when you are ready for it, you are going to give me a kiss as good or better than the one I just gave Jim. Let's just be nice to each other, eh? Deal?" Kris says brightly.

I am in shock. I get to kiss this gorgeous angel anyway I want, fondle her, touch her, have her fondle me, touch me... It is like a bomb of awareness lights up my skull. I have the hots for Kris, and she likes me enough to let me have a go.

I don't know what the roots of my attraction to women are, or where they came from. You hear the stories of the girls who practice kissing with each other, so the guys won't know how inexperienced they are, or the ones who make out with each other for the same reason. If I wanted a boy, I just planted one on him, hoping he wouldn't reject me until he'd used me as much as I am willing to be used. My kisses quickly escalated to blowjobs, and most of my girlfriends kept up, so despite not being the best looking, hottest girls, we were pretty popular until Becky started putting out and the stakes went way up. Right about that time we moved to the city where Jim lived, so even though I'd given up my virginity years before, I didn't have to give it up on every date with every guy, which became the fate of my 'slut sisters', something for which they blame me to this day.

But movies and culture changed. Sigourney Weaver (in the Aliens film), Xena and Gabrielle (which I can watch over and over), Scarlett Johansson (in Vicky Cristina Barcelona), Charlize Theron, Peg Bundy - women could be strong, hot, and even a lot of slutty and still be erotic. I started watching the newer movies about women that liked women, and even the ones that also liked men. I am feeling more bisexual by the day. This idyllic exploration of my own sexual identity lasts about six months.

It didn't help during this period that Kris became my workout partner. Even though we went to the local neighborhood gym that caters to women, I felt like everybody knew. One class I would be in front, and the next Kris would be in front. I could see her nipples poking through her sports bra. I could see her vulva thru her yoga pants, which always makes me wet. No doubt I have exactly the same effect on some of my classmates until the day one of the other class mates gave me a heads up.

"Girl, if you're all stiff and wet because of John, just ask him if he'd like a blowjob after class. His big old cock can take it. If he likes it, he might even give you a private lesson at home. He prefers married women, especially ones who need an incentive to keep coming back. Why do you think I'm here every week, besides hoping for another ride on the best cock I've ever had in my life?" she confides to me and in a heartbeat, with a bob of her ponytail, she is gone.

John is of course deep in conversation with Kris. He always makes time for Kris. He doesn't even know I exist. I would have to offer him much more than the blowjob blondie was talking about. I would have to offer him ... a threeway with Kris! It struck me like a lightning bolt, so hard I have to sit down on one of the benches against the wall.

I fell down the rabbit hole after that. Morning, noon, and night I started thinking not about what I could offer John, but what the hell could I offer Kris? I knew nothing about making love to another woman. My performance at work suffered, I am distracted in every conversation, I am on the verge if not already well across the border to being obsessed with my plans for my reward to Jim. For being the best husband ever. For being with me literally through thick and thin. For loving me when I saw myself as an ugly pile of fat, yet always seeing me as beautiful. That deserved as many threesomes as I could arrange between Kris, and I, and Jim.

So I spent a lot of time watching lesbian porn. Plus FFM porn. It may surprise you, but most of the girl/girl porn is oriented for men. You have to really look to find the good stuff, the girl/girl stuff made for and bi (pun intended) girls. I really looked, and I really found it. I really liked it, it made me SO wet. I gladly paid for some of it. I also spent money on flavored lubes, both to orally service my husband's cock to assuage my guilt, and for the very practical purpose of cooling down my overheated pussy which had to endure hours upon hours of porn using my multi-speed Hitachi Magic Wand vibrator. Seriously, if I could only bring one thing with me to a desert island it would be a nuclear powered version that could run for 10,000 years without batteries or a cord. If I must die, I want to die happy.

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So one day a week, I get a long lunch, and I have been taking it at Toni's, a great little place not far from work with a fantastic salad bar (WW points friendly). Also, my midweek fix of time alone with Kris. Today she pops in wearing a knit dress so tight I can read the serial numbers on her breast implants and also tell she did indeed shave her labia today. Oh my Gawd! I have just seen Kris's bare pussy for the first time!

"Girlfriend, you have been staring at my pussy for way too long. Did I miss a spot?" Kris says, as she lifts her leg to cross it on her other knee, giving me a very complete view of her privates.

"No...No... Uh, No... you look great. Divinely edible in fact." I stammered, then tried to recover.

"Good. Take a picture. Send it to Jim. Tell him you are very close to getting that threesome... Wait a second, let me adjust first..." Kris responds, then drops her hands into her lap, and plays with herself for a minute under the table, then smiles and says more forcefully, "Take it!"

So I take the picture, and we have an otherwise normal lunch, until we are getting ready to leave. I send the picture to Jim when she leaves to use the restroom. My phone dings about 50 times as she walks slowly through the restaurant, I don't even bother to look at them. Kris also walks slowly back to the table, like she hasn't got a care in the world. Her bright smile when she turns to see me just makes me turn all gooey inside.

"Babe, I need, really fucking need you to do me a solid. I'm going out to Cricket's for dinner and drinks Friday night. I need you to be my wing woman so I can get laid. Help a friend out, willya?" Kris begs.

"So what do I wear?" I ask hopefully, stalling for time.

"Something hotter than what I'm wearing right now. I will be. Thanks, babe, you're the best! Luvya babe, gotta run." Kris kisses me, and is gone before I can ask her any one of a million questions rattling around in my skull.

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There are very few things hotter that a deep v neck painted on knit dress with a hem right at the crotch, supported by thigh highs and four inch fuck me heels. Unless it is Kris wearing said outfit. While I, the ugly duckling, would need a fairy godmother, ballgown, and glass slippers just to get to the area code of that much hotness. The poor little teen clerks at the mall stores kept pointing me to Torrid and the other Heifer stores, but believe it or not I am now just a large, not XXX rated anymore.

One of the clerks, an older woman, pulls me aside and said "The store you want is Jill's on Central. I'm not supposed to even mention it, but all the best escorts in town go there. Good luck honey, and I hope your hard times are over soon.", she said with a 'seen it all before' sadness in her voice.

So I end up at this store which caters to the hooker crowd, and damn if there isn't a beam of light shining on two dresses in my size, one red, one black. Lace, see through dresses, covering just enough to be street legal, yet showing enough to make my inner slut howl. I am definitely going to get laid if I wear this dress. I'll be dripping the whole time I'm wearing it. I don't have any red hose, so I pick the black one and will have to pay three prices for it. But I have to wear it tomorrow night. I take it into the changing room and try it on, and everything has to come off. Panties leave unsightly lines and weird bulges. Bra is worse, all the panties did plus shining out like a searchlight. When I finally give in and take everything off, I look in the mirror to see my slutty self. My hot slutty self. The slut lost all those years ago. The slut buried under a mountain of fat until her cravings could be forgotten. The slut who wanted to howl again. The slut who demanded to be free again. The slut paid the three prices for it, knowing that just the one look in the mirror to reclaim herself would have been worth three times more.

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Friday night came and I took off work early, saying I have an appointment, which is true. Dinner and drinks at Cricket's. The website is very non-descript, but the blog makes it clear this place is for out lesbian and bisexual women. I felt confident after my porn explorations that little I could see would even surprise me, much less shock me. What I would experience is another matter.

We took a Lyft to the club, knowing full well neither of us would be sober enough to drive later. I stare at Kris, in the red version of what I am wearing, like I have won the personal goddess lottery, while from what she said, she feels the same way about me. We hug throughout the short drive, and tip the driver a 20$ bill for taking up his time on such a busy night.

We grab a table at the back corner, and Kris sits where I would need x-ray goggles to see most of the place through her. I give up on that as our drinks arrive. We order a fairly heavy steak dinner in half portions, and it comes quickly. Both famished, we make quick work of the delicious meat, only to start playing our favorite game.

"What about her?" Kris says as she points across the bar.

"Its too hard to see through you babe." I gently chide her.

"Lean Out. I'll hold you." Kris offers.

So I lean out, finding Kris has an ulterior motive. Her arm has to wrap around me, holding me by the breast to keep my ass from falling onto the floor. As she withdraws her arm, she gets a two-fer, fingers very gently gliding for a discrete feel of the other breast as I sit back in my chair.

"Well?" Kris asks with a Cheshire Cat grin she'd done nothing, as if there is nothing going on.

"I think she's pretty hot. I'd do her. But she looks too sad, very unconfident. I don't think tonight will go well for her." I propose.

"Let's see if we can do something about that. Stay here and give our waitress our drink orders when she comes back. I'll only be gone a couple of songs." Kris says as she bounces out of her seat.

Sure enough, she went to the poor waif and asked her to dance during a slow song, who cannot believe her luck at being hit on by this goddess class babe. Kris put the make on her like they were already coupled up. Hands all over her ass, her breasts, kissing her. It is making me very jealous. I wanted to be the one kissing her. I wanted to be the one being felt up. And in the second song, I wanted to be the one with my fingers inside her (pick a her, any her). I am grateful that I didn't wear panties, because they would have been hopelessly drenched, and I am running out of napkins to dry my dripping cooze.

"So you're new. What's up with your girlfriend? She looks fem and acts butch? Plus why, when she's got a hottie like you, why does she go sniffing around the trailer trash?", a nearly bald very short haired dyke asks me with a ten thousand yard death match stare.

"She's just doing an old friend a favor." I covered for Kris.

"Give me those wadded up napkins.", she demands.

"Sure." I say pleasantly, as I see Kris heading back our way.

"I'm on your scent. Like a bloodhound. I will come and find then take your pussy. Let your friend know her days with her tongue in your slot are numbered." she walks away, sniffing the napkins.

Kris arrives back at the table and asks "What was that all about?"

"She said your days with your tongue in my slot are numbered. Apparently, she intends to take me away from you." I offer brightly.

"Can't take what isn't mine. Plus the number is zero, so good luck with that, dyke bitch!" Kris practically spits out.

I start sobbing. Kris pulls me to her cleavage, which combined with the tears, spreads my makeup all over her tits, completely wrecking the half hour of work I put into looking good for her. But I'm not hers. I start sobbing again. Kris rubs my back.

"Get it all out. Then we will talk while we fix your face." Kris says softly.

Nodding, I take my place behind her, involuntarily staring at that delicious ass, that once again, I don't belong to, yet somehow, I manage to choke down the tears. Then I realize, I have no makeup, since our purses got checked at the "Cooch Cage", their version of a coat check. I have a little pinned tag with a number on it on my hip, but no cosmetics to fix my face.

But the huge, convention hotel scale bathroom has a long wall devoted to fixing your face, with a bathroom attendant who provides basic cosmetics, putting them on your tab. The counter is clear except for towels or cosmetics being used by the patrons, and the long mirror in six foot segments is surrounded by white globe lights. I saw something like that once in a magazine featuring one of the dressing rooms for showgirls in Vegas. Kris gets what I need and uses a towel to clean me off, then goes to work fixing my face.

"You can't talk while I'm fixing you up, so just listen. There is a woman here tonight, I think she's my soulmate. Like I said, I intend to get laid tonight, by her, and you are going to help me do it. See, if I show you a good time, she will get jealous, and then she will want to claim what is rightfully hers. At least that's what I'm hoping." Kris pauses to fix an eyebrow, then I start bawling my eyes out, wrecking all her work on my foundation and blush.

Cleaning me off with a towel, then starting over Kris says, "I'm just like you. I never think I am good enough. All those men I chased told me I wasn't good enough. Piglet, they called me. Fuck pig when I got older. Then one night two of us sluts had to eat each other out for their entertainment, and we became best friends, then best lovers. She taught me to see myself as enough. She taught me to love and accept love. She taught me everything that I hope you will learn about being a full and complete woman." Kris pauses as she works on the eyebrow that has triggered my last meltdown, and then decided it is fixed and moved on.

"So let's make a deal. Just for tonight, we will pretend that you kissed me back. You remember that night all those months ago, when I kissed both you and Jim? I've been waiting for that kiss back, and you either forgot about it, or weren't interested. But that woman that is here tonight, I'm hoping that she will remember, and she will kiss me back to claim me right in front of you." Kris said as she started in on my lips, so I couldn't reply.

"She's just like you. She was heavy, like you and I. She was a slut, like you and I, just to be able to get any attention at all. Now she has remade herself, just like you and I, and she still does not know how gorgeous she is, especially on the inside, to me. I'll do anything for her. She's married, like you, and she has basically promised a threesome to her husband. I'm not really interested in men anymore, but if she asked, I would be in their bed making him feel like a king every night from here to eternity, and her my queen. I'd take her fitness instructor to bed with her, just because she said with a wink 'Lets do him!', and I'm quite certain we might have to perform CPR on him when we are done." Kris said in very husky tones, as she is finishing up.