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Posts Tagged ‘bisexual women dating’

  1. Date Night

    April 30, 2016 by Heather Cole

    Depositphotos_BED

     

    I have been experimenting with kissing girls since I was in grade school. I used to sneak into the woods with my friend Christine, and we’d try different ways of kissing on an old picnic table beneath the screen of a drooping dogwood.  Although I found women attractive and really, really wanted to kiss them as I matured, it wasn’t until I was in my forties that I finally acted on any of those impulses. (It’s funny how I didn’t do a lot of things until I was in my forties.)

    Running into Mims at a party one night seemed destined from the moment I walked through the door. Only minutes before I had been perusing her profile (and that of her boyfriend) on Fetlife. I entered the house, and three minutes later I stood face-to-face with the couple I had been digitally ogling. I made some silly, and probably dorky, joke about stalking their Fetlife profiles, and they laughed, kindly taking my exuberance in stride.

    Mims was tall with a mane of gorgeous red hair and wide eyes that you could drown in. I don’t remember what we talked about or what we were wearing, but somehow we ended up in the upstairs master bedroom having sex. While her boyfriend filmed it.

    The feel of her skin beneath my fingertips was branded in my brain that night. The memory of her scent and the feel of her hair sweeping my face is enough to make my pulse quicken. She climbed my body like some exotic, silken cat, kissing and nipping her way into my embrace. Even though it has been two years since that night, she possessed a presence that lingered with me.

    After that erotic evening together, Mims and I periodically double-dated, her with her (now ex) boyfriend and me with sir. Inevitably we ended up naked and kissing, sometimes after a flogging or an interlude with a violet wand, but it was always with a male audience. And although I had fun with the four of us, part of me wondered how things would go if it were only me and Mims again.

    Since sir moved overseas, Mims and I have seen each other every couple months. She house sat while I was overseas and chaperoned Catsquatch. I have invited her to dinner at my place and sometimes we’ve gone out. And always we have flirted, dancing around the question we both silently entertained. Would we? Wouldn’t we? I tried to mentally map out a not-too-obvious approach to ask if she would like to have sex again, but I lacked the skills to articulate something even halfway coherent or seductive. I seemed to be able to talk about everything but sex. It didn’t help that half the time one of us had our period or had a head cold.

    The sad fact was that I had no game when it came to women. I haven’t had an actual date since before sir left, so I lacked practice too. I was a bonified goof around women in general. My game plan fell to pieces when confronted by their feminine charms and flirtatious smiles. So I would plot and plan about what I would do to Mims when I saw her next, and then fail to actually do any of it when she was within arm’s reach.

    That changed one night last month.

    I don’t know if it was because I had a couple glasses of wine to bolster my courage or if the joy of eating Lebanese food buoyed me forward into propositioning her. Instead of going for an after dinner drink I suggested that we go to my place to watch Supernatural and make out on the couch. Yes, dear readers, I am that suave.

    Thank goodness Mims liked me despite my clumsy wooing, and we ended up half-naked on my couch while Sam and Dean discussed something about the end of the world in the background. We tore off each other’s clothing while our tongues tangled, eventually getting so frustrated with the process that she gave up and pulled me to my feet. I protested even though I knew she was right. There was no sense fighting the clothing and the couch when I had a perfectly functional bed upstairs. My heartbeat ratcheted up a notch when it finally hit me that we were going to have sex again. It was finally happening!

    She led me to my very messy bedroom (I still hadn’t unpacked from my month with sir) where we shed the rest of our clothes easily and crawled beneath the quilt.

    Have I mentioned that Mims was an amazing kisser? Her lips were soft but firm, and she knew exactly how long to hold a deep kiss. This time her kisses held the sting of teeth, and she left marks over the freckles dotting my chest. I squealed and squirmed, gathering a thick chunk of hair in my fist to raise her face to mine. The floral scent of her hair lingered in my nose as the long tresses rained down around me in a private canopy.

    Her body was luscious with curves in the very best places, and I flipped us over so that I was on top. I kissed and lapped at her tender skin, sucking her nipple into my mouth and gently biting it until she moaned and writhed beneath me. I felt high with sexual connection; that golden place when the energy sparked between us and held us together in a hue of physical and emotional desire. I don’t get to that place often, so when I felt it with Mims, I released the last of my restraint. I devoured that woman, smeared her juices all over my mouth and cheeks trying to taste and consume as much of her as I could. And I reveled in the moment, drinking deep the smells and sounds that we created together. I relished it all.

    Mims left several hours later. I considered asking her to stay the night but ultimately decided not to. As much as I adored Mims, I was in no place where I felt prepared to handle another relationship. Spending the night in my bed felt like relationship zone, so we said our goodbyes and kissed one last time. I’m now thinking about what I want to do to her should the opportunity arise again and crossing my fingers.

    I really hope it does.


  2. Plays Well With Others

    June 13, 2012 by Heather Cole

    Me: [picks up pen] [scribbles recklessly] Bisexual, thirty-something, divorced, mother-of-one seeks a bisexual female for friendship and lady-loving*.

    *means that I would like to learn the arts of lady love. I have very little practical experience with women aside from the occasional stolen kisses as a young girl and drunken breast caresses at parties in high school. But that doesn’t stop me from lusting, from yearning. OH THE YEARNING!  [crosses out last sentence. Note to self: shouting doesn’t attract the ladies.]

    Warning: I’m frickticulously complicated. I think about everything which means that I will think about making a move on you a hundred times before actually doing it. I also demand a variety of different beverages at breakfast. Coffee, water and a bloody mary for starters.

    In fact, you should probably only answer this ad…

    [Writes second note to self: will this be a personal ad? A dating site? A placard outside the neighborhood deli?]

    …if you want to have a lot of sex, albeit beginner sex, because my situation involves two boyfriends.
    Yes, you read that right.
    One of whom is also my Dom.
    Yes, you read that right as well.
    And both of them live long distance.
    Yes…complicated…

    Perhaps you’ll understand better when I explain that I love my male partners, one of whom is kinky and who is helping me explore and expand my kinky self. They both know about my wish for female companionship-sex… [why do I sound like an 1800’s governess when I say that?] …and we talk about it. Quite a bit. And for the record, I won’t proceed with any of this if one of them objects. Yes, they’re that important to me.

    I feel like now is the time to explore my bisexuality, because I’ve denied it for years and years. I love women; I love their curves and soft skin, how they move and how they think. Why shouldn’t I act on it? Maybe I can take action with you? [Crosses out last sentence. Meaning unclear and generally too pervy-sounding.]

    I refer to it as “companionship-sex” because I suck at casual sex. I’m absolutely no good at not caring. [Note: this should probably go under the warning part.] I would like us to be friends and genuinely enjoy hanging out together. Ideally you would meet both boyfriends and like them. Not liking them is bad. Very bad. [Crosses out last sentence as sounding too Godfather-ish.]

    So about the companionship sex…this is what I envision: you come over for dinner and a movie. I make the world’s best chocolate cake, by the way. Maybe a bottle of wine? One thing leads to another and we end up making out like horny teenagers on the couch. [Thank goodness you can’t see how red I am writing that!]  The couch is very uncomfortable, generally speaking. I apologize in advance. Eventually we graduate into the area where I have no practical experience except for my lovely Liri making me orgasm… [you can read about that adventure here] …which ultimately leads to orgasms all-around!

    What I can offer: a lively sense of humor, the company of an aging and mildly retarded greyhound, medium tits, round ass (perfect for spanking), loyalty, intelligence and a willingness to learn. Also, I will cook you into a stupor given half a chance.

    Please don’t reply if you make loud mouth noises when eating, think Mittens Romney is anything other than an alien parasite or believe that food is irrelevant to joyful living.

    Please DO reply if you think nerds are sexy, have an undying passion for beverages and have read The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows.

    xo Heather