The Lesbian Exchange - Sex Stories

The Lesbian Exchange

I couldn’t get the image out of my head. It’d been a week since I’d seen her. Since she’d kissed me. And I still couldn’t get that image out of my head. Us. Together. I’d never been with a woman before. The whole idea seemed absurd. I was married. I was happy. My sex life was great. But the thought of being with her – kissing her, touching her, licking her – I just couldn’t get her out of my mind. I wanted her. I wanted to taste her. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted her to fuck me. I picked up my phone. It was 9pm on a Saturday. I was home alone – my husband was away on a business trip – and I was starting to feel tipsy halfway through my third glass of wine. It was only 8pm on the West coast – where my husband was for business – so I called him. “Hey Emma.” he picked up after the second ring. I could hear bar noise in the background. He was obviously out having drinks with his work buddies. “Hey,” I squeaked. “What’s wrong?” He could instantly tell something was up. I wasn’t my usual bubbly self. “Nothing.” I wondered how the hell I was going to ask my husband if he was okay with me fucking another girl! “You sure?” “Well… Ummm… I have something to ask you.” “Okayyy…” He sounded worried. “Do you mind just going outside for a sec.? I need you to hear everything I have to say and I don’t want anyone to be around.” “Ya. Gimme a sec.” With the worried tone in his voice, I could hear him moving through the bar until the sound grew quieter and I knew he was outside. And then I told ...

... him. I told him how two months ago I’d met a girl named Tori in my hot yoga class. He’d heard about her, but he’d never heard the whole story. There was a problem with the computer sign-in system and, while we were both waiting to sign in, we got talking and we hit it off. After class we decided to shower and grab a coffee. The more we talked, the more I realized that we were meant to be friends. Really close friends. We had so much in common. We just clicked. We started hanging out a lot. Yoga, dinners, late night confessionals over wine. It was during one of those late night confessionals that it happened. We were snuggled under some blankets on her couch, enjoying some pinot grigio, when all of a sudden she leaned over and kissed me - her tongue pressing against mine, her lips devouring my mouth. At first I kissed her back, but then I pulled away quickly. I was stunned. Instantly horny. Speechless. I jumped up, stammered some sort of excuse as to why I had to go right that instant, grabbed my purse and bolted out the door. That was the last time we saw or talked to each other. “And now I just can’t get her out of my head - the image of us together. I want to be with her, Mitchell.” I could hear my husband breath in sharply. “Are you asking my permission?” he asked. “I guess,” I said timidly. He laughed. “Em.” He always called me Em instead of my full name, Emma. “You do realize you’re asking me if you can fuck a girl?” “Yes,” I whispered. I was worried. I wasn’t sure where ...