Lesbian Friends Pt. 02

Ebony Housewife Weekend #2

Patricia's Lesbian Awakening

Hi my name is Patricia, and I live in Eatondale Canada. A few years ago, my best friend Cheyenne and I began to hang out with these two ladies from our neighbourhood: Abra and Saffra. I immediately thought how funny the pair seemed: two tall, gorgeous black women who really seemed like sisters or cousins.

I was in the market for another affair. After being in the spotlight for so many years with my first husband, I settled down with my second husband, Nate, and found myself bored. He makes a lot of money as a dentist- which is great! But how much shopping and travel can a gal really handle? Especially when my husband has to work to afford the nice things that I'd rather be enjoying with him.

Before you start to hate me, please just know that money is not a substitute for attention and desire. There are things that a lot of women would take over money- we aren't all gold-diggers.

Before I ever started cheating on my husband, I did everything in my power to get his attention. I changed my hair, I started new hobbies, I spent too much money, I put on weight- all without any effect. He is a workaholic, and I am but another trophy for him to put on his shelf.

When we met, Nate pursued me long and hard- literally. We fucked on every flat surface in his condo, and against every soft surface in mine. We met as neighbours in the upscale building I was living in after my divorce. He was the cutest white guy I had ever seen. He brought me home to meet his mother after a whirlwind courtship, and proposed to me soon after. I was the ebony princess he brought home with him; the cheerleader he finally got despite never being overly cool or popular growing up. I was his trophy- the one he earned for having a successful life.

Unfortunately, like many trophies, I have rarely seen much action after being won by my husband. Most nights he falls asleep on the sofa in the living room. He will usually be logged into some first person shooter on his laptop, or watching a mindless action movie on the television. Most nights my needs go unfulfilled and my passions are subdued.

The passion I was longing for presented itself in a really unusual way a few years ago. I began to feel so horny and put off by my husband that my sexual thoughts wandered into fantasies about Nate's gorgeous younger step sister who was then only 22. Nate's family was blended, so his little sister was mixed with Jewish and Persian. Her long dark hair was tied down her back in a braid.

Last summer though... I don't know what happened. It may have been caused by too many drinks by the pool, but she bent over in her swimsuit and I couldn't believe the ass I was staring at. Picture me: ebony goddess with a fantastic petite athletic body lounging by the pool with her mouth hanging open. Salivating at the ass that barely concealed the outer lips of a tight 22 year old pussy.

I could see that she shaved her twat, which only served to make me feel more desire for her youthful skin. I knew it was wrong, but behind my Dior sunglasses, no one could see where my eyes were pointed. From then on, I wanted nothing more than to explore the sexual appetite that had wrenched within me.

I had my opportunity to make it with my husband's little sister, in any event. It was after the Lesbian Friends birthday event we had for Saffra. I was still savouring the fun I had with my friends when Nate's sister Emma showed up unannounced in her car. She had broken up with her latest boyfriend and wanted a shoulder to cry on. Nate stayed up until 10 p.m. so he could be ready for work the next morning, and by 10:05 I was filling Emma's wine glass up to the top whilst making ridiculous statements to rile her up.

All of this was to manipulate her to temporarily remove her allegiance to men, and to come join me in a garden of delight.

It really didn't take very long before my "man-bashing" had a slightly tipsy Emma offering to trade pyjama tops with me in the midst of our Adam Sandler "Post break up movie-a-thon".

She was so obliging- offering me a back massage, and asking to paint my nails. Regardless of her relation to me, it was obvious that she was as interested in my attention as I was in her.

Besides, there is no law saying I can't fool around with my second husband's younger step sister, who is also an adult.

If I wasn't supposed to fuck her, why was she so damn hot?

Obviously, I couldn't come up with a reason not to; so I fingered her on the Lazy-Boy recliner in the TV room. The whole time, her older step-brother, aka my husband, slept with his meditation music playing in the background.

After exchanging some sweet and playful kisses, she put her hand down my pants and I responded by sinking down to my knees in front of her legs. She was only wearing her panties and my black pyjama top.

Her hooded eyes and the spread of her legs invited me in, so I slid the crotch of her panties to the side to take a look at my prize.

Her cunt was immaculate. Hairless, except for a small landing strip that looked like a manicured lawn.

Young people these days are so confused in their priorities. Emma kept her cunt so clean and pretty, that I thought I might need a security check to get it to open.

Yet, her cellphone screen was cracked beyond the point of proper usability. Perhaps young people got through life based on what their private parts look like? I wondered: are 22 year olds having that much sex?

Perhaps they were on to something. I was 44 and not having any sex in my marriage and perhaps I wasn't in any position to judge anyone, especially not Emma.

The scent of her aroused vagina pulled me back into the moment and I went to work on Emma. It tasted better than I imagined, and I was impressed by how tight and supple her juicy folds were. I don't know if she came at first because, like I mentioned, she was making this weird yawning face that made me think she was getting tired. So I licked her clit faster and faster to wake her up and bring more energy into our sex.

She kept getting wetter and wetter, but when I looked up, she was still making that stupid fucking face.

I hastily repositioned our bodies in response to pull us into an open "trib" position. She laid on her back with her legs up, allowing me to sandwich our clits together in a scissor configuration.

With our pussies already wet from her cum and my saliva, the friction was perfect!

I liked to be in control, so I alternated between hard grinding and soft rocking that allowed just our clits to kiss with a train of wet cum sticking between us. When we finished she made me promise not to ever tell her mother, my husband, or anyone really for that matter.

The money she got from her parents kept her comfortable without needing to work full time while she was finishing school. I could afford a divorce from my second husband if anyone found out, but she could not afford to be written off by her family, which is surely what would happen in the worst case scenario.

We agreed that we would never discuss that night ever again, and that it would stay buried in the past.

Anyway...

As cliché as it is for a trophy wife to cheat on her husband, I didn't want to keep doing it forever. I wanted a stable lover that I could clandestinely conceal, who would offer me all of the things I was missing in my relationship with my husband. I never thought that I would find what I was looking for in the arms of my female best friends.

In the past few months I have really started to explore my sexuality in ways that I never had really dreamed of. When I was in university, I dated one of the best football players at Western University. I was an assistant head on the cheerleading and gymnastics squad, so we were always together at games and on the road.

For four years we stayed strong, and he proposed to me when he was drafted into the CFL as a starter for the Hamilton Tiger Cats. We had two sons, and really lived the perfect life until everything fell apart.

My first husband Tyrell was a big man, and after five seasons in Hamilton, he got a back injury after getting into a car accident on the Red Hill Parkway.

After failing to recover, her lost his spot on the team and the very night that he was let go, he went to a bar and nearly killed a man in a fight. Open and shut case. We were fortunate that the victim of Tyrell's rage did not succumb. But the medical bills and lawsuits that followed the tragic event caused misery. Because of Tyrell's celebrity, they thought he had endless accounts and kept suing us, but refusing to settle.

Tyrell was sentenced to four years for his crime; but in order to hold on to some of what we had built, we had to divorce to protect the larger assets from being liable to the lawsuits from the family of the man who nearly died. I was able keep the house, but everything that was in Tyrell's name was lost.

Our marriage didn't survive. Tyrell didn't blame me. Our youngest son lives with me and my new husband now, while our oldest took off as soon as he could go. He lives in Japan now, and I see him only at Christmas.

Tyrell was the only man I had ever been with. I lost my virginity to him in the first year of university, and we promised each other we would be together for ever, back in those days.

I am older and wiser now- so I realize that I have repressed my sexual desires on account of being the faithful wife to my superstar first husband. All we ever had was vanilla sex and did it in the missionary position.

When the divorce was finalized and Tyrell was still in prison, I sold the matrimonial home and bought a sleek Toronto Condominium in South Etobicoke.

I joined a fetish website, and saved some of the listings for events I wanted to check out, but ultimately the day to day business of being a mom over shadowed my desire to explore. I needed to wait until my son was old enough to allow me the time and freedom to delve into the repressed avenues of my sexual psyche.

Not long after moving into the condominium with my youngest son, I met Nate.

We fell in love, and here I am. A 44 year old black woman with a cheerleader's body and a white Jewish husband.

Nate is a great guy, an amazing step-dad, and funny as hell. He has wit and great timing, he's rich, and not a bad looking guy when he's combed his hair in the morning. I still love him and find him attractive...

...but it's just the spark. We are missing the spark or whatever that thing is that makes me want to drop to my knees to suck a dick because he did something "just" right. Mm.

When I brought it up to my friend Cheyenne, she suggested that Nate might be losing interest in me. I felt like her words were harsh, but I needed to hear it- even if it was just so that I could rule it out.

Cheyenne had been a great friend to me, but had a tendency toward being domineering. It was a tiny aspect of her personality that could drive me crazy.

She was always pushing me to do things her way. She was always testing my limits.

I was actually about to call the entire friendship quits and start phasing her out when she opened up to me:

Cheyenne: Have you looked at his phone?

Me: That is such an unfair thing to do.

Cheyenne: That is a yes or no question.

Me: I looked but I didn't find anything like that.

Cheyenne: Did you try the "receptionist slip up" tactic?

Me: Is that the one where you try to trick his receptionist by disguising your voice and giving a different name from your own?

Cheyenne: Ah, so you are familiar. Did you gather any information?

Me: No, she was tight lipped. I looked through his Instagram as well.

Cheyenne: And?

Me: He's not cheating. What am I going to do? I have these needs and I can't let go.

Cheyenne: I think I know what will help you. Are you into having sex with other women?

She was so direct in her question that it took me a few seconds of indirect babbling to admit that: yes I did think about having sex with other women, but at that time had never acted on the thoughts.

We had a long conversation and began to plan the birthday weekend for Saffra. Abbra had given the idea to Cheyenne, and once I was onboard with opening myself to my new friends by committing to a lesbian sex weekend, the plan was set in motion.

The rest of the events of that weekend are now history.

After giving in to my horny lesbian lust with my friends, I furthered my exploration by bedding my husband's younger step-sister.

The secretive nature of my activities had me fantasizing about other women I could begin to sleep with in order to feed my hot desires. I had sex with four women in total, and I was looking forward to much more.

During the days and weeks that followed, Nate did not express any interest in having sex more than once or twice. I was lonely, horny and left out of the marital intimacy I longed for.

One month later, I received an e-invite from Cheyenne to meet up for drinks at her house.

Cheyenne's forcefulness toward me had increased since the lesbian weekend. She had called me a few times asking what I thought about the party, and when we could get together again. I wasn't opposed to meeting up again, but weekends away from home are not easy to come by as a mother and a wife.

Cheyenne was divorced and didn't have any children. Her priorities allowed for her to plan weekends doing whatever she pleased...and it seemed with all of the calls and texts she sent me in the weeks following that she wanted to please me.

One night Cheyenne sent a text that came with nude photos of her body from the neck-down. The three photos included an oiled up Cheyenne wearing a strap-on harness with a rather large dido attached. On one of the photos she included a caption that read:

"I'm going to sink this deep into your pussy, you cock teasing bitch."

I was turned on by the subject matter of the communication, but also a little taken aback by the aggressiveness. She was harbouring some unresolved issue toward me, and this was another way it was coming out.

I couldn't deny that we had sex- great sex- while sharing a room with our other friends who were also having sex nearby. We both had a great time in bed, but her insistence in dominating me was showing to be a little bit too much.

When I got to Cheyenne's, there were no lights on in the house. I could see Cheyenne through the window of her home sitting near the fireplace.

I tapped on the window to get her attention. She turned to look at me as though she had anticipated my unconventional knock.

She handed me a glass of wine that had already been poured.

I remember the peculiar taste as I took a long sip after toasting to our friendship. My eyes were closing lazily and I blacked out around this time.

When I awoke, I was in a different area of the house than where we were before. I was lying in a sling that was suspended in the air. I could see various objects hanging from the walls that were painted a deep burgundy colour. My nipples were bound in some kind of soft coated rope, and my wrists were tied up underneath me somehow.

I was feeling like a stuck pig, and I didn't have any memory of signing a consent form for this level of play.

Me: Cheyenne what the fuck? Get me out of this thing. Where are you?

Cheyenne emerged from behind an antique changing screen in the corner of the dungeon room I was being held captive in. She was wearing a full leather body suit, complete with a dildo attachment.

Cheyenne wore a mask that completely obstructed her face from my view. I tried to reason with her and get some answers for why she had lured me to her home to drug me and commit an unlawful confinement of my person!

Cheyenne just stared at me and said nothing.

It was definitely her behind the mask, although it was unsettling to have her silently stare at me when I spoke to her. I decided in that moment, that with her odd behaviour it would not be wise to say or to do anything that could upset her.

Her demeanour was trance-like. It was as if she was under a spell.

I braced myself for whatever was about to come. Ready or not, I was going to be fucked like a pig in a sling by Cheyenne.

I felt aroused. I had never really given up all of my power in a sexual exchange. I mean, really I never gave up power in any part of my life. The violating nature of how Cheyenne set me up into this position also served to intoxicate me.

After a few minutes, Cheyenne removed her mask.

Once her face was free, she became extremely verbal- almost to the point of abuse.

Cheyenne: You're gonna wish you didn't come over Pat.

Me: Why is that?

Cheyenne: I'm going to use you tonight. I'm going to fuck you raw.

Me: Yes please.

Cheyenne: You had better start calling me Madame C. Ok?

Me: Yes Madam.

Madame C slathered lube all over her strapped-on dildo. It was a better choice than waiting for my wet cum to make things slippery. Starting off in the obvious places, she twisted my nipples and eased the big cock into my lubricated entrance way.

I felt nicely stretched by the size. I could easily accommodate it. She used the free swinging movement of the sling to rock me back and forth on her plastic cock, while she stood stationary. Her biceps flexed with the movement, allowing me to take admiration of how well defined her arms were. I let my body relax, taking in every inch as it was pushed into me.

The lubrication was beginning to mix with my own wetness, and the feeling of the plastic cock sliding in and out of me was exquisite.

Madame C was so good at pleasing my pussy. I knew she was a professional when we had our group sex fun during the lesbian weekend; because she seemed to want me all to herself. Something about the way my body responded to her touch... it was special. And I know that she could sense it too.

I've heard men describe the concept of fucking a woman so well that she falls in love- and I think the same thing is true about lesbians. When someone makes you cum really hard, it's as if the brain releases extra chemicals that make you turn into a fucking idiot.

That's my non-clinical description of love.

I think most people who have been in love, and are now married would tend to agree.

Madame C could have been falling in love with me, but her brand of love was a bit controlling for my tastes.

Case in point: she had drugged me, taken my clothes off, and was now fucking my tied-up and drugged-up body in a hidden room somewhere in her house. This was definitely a hidden room, because I had never seen it before when I had visited her home, nor was it a closet, judging by the size of it.

If this very drastic move on her part was any indication of our future, it would be wise for me to tread softly with this person.

Meanwhile, while getting fucked, Madame C was really close to making me cum. Because she was stationary and moving me on her plastic cock with the motion of her arms pushing and pulling the sling, there was a long road to go before she became exhausted.

I let a groan escape from my mouth, and she promptly stuffed my own panties in. I was now partially gagged by my own panties, and on the brink of orgasm. Madame C slowed her pace.

My excitement was downgraded from pre climactic to a less intense but still incredibly wet baseline.

Madame C withdrew the plastic cock from inside of me, and bent down to lick and to taste my pussy. She swirled my clit with her tongue like a pro. I was totally open at this point and hoping that her next move would make me cum. I spit out my panties at that point.

Using the lube that was nearby, Madame C readied my ass hole for penetration. I would have preferred that she had licked my ass too, but I was not in any position to make demands. I liked to have things my own way, and I could clearly see that was not going to fly in this scenario.