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From: Ginny Walker <wcollege2001@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 23 Dec 2002 22:19:40 -0800 (PST)
Subject: {ASSM} STORY - Moral Dilemma
Date: Tue, 24 Dec 2002 04:10:07 -0500
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<1st attachment, "moraldilemma.txt" begin>
WARNING: READ THE ENTIRE INTRO THOROUGHLY BEFORE READING ANY OF
MY STORIES SO THAT YOU WILL NOT BE OFFENDED BY THE MATERIAL.
This story contains the graphical account of consensual sex
between two women, one married, and the moral struggle facing them.
This story is a slightly embellished account of a true
experience. I am grateful to those who have shared their
experiences with me to serve as the basis for these stories and I
am always looking for more true experiences from others to write
about. The subject matter I find most interesting deals with
first time experiences, innocence lost, lactation, reluctance,
and trib.
In these stories I seek to share what I believe can be beautiful,
erotic or just enlightening experiences of real women. Feel free
to provide feedback (pro or con, but please spare me any flames) at
wcollege2001@yahoo.com
Future stories will appear on my web site www.geocities.com/wcollege2001
--------------------------------------------------------------------
"MORAL DILEMMA"
by Ginny Walker, 2002
wcollege2001@yahoo.com
F/F 1st
Let me share with you an ongoing situation which began last year
in my life. It continues to be a source of turmoil for me. I'll
give a brief background on what led to my situation: I was
raised in a deeply religious home and still consider myself
religious. I had one prior "lesbian" experience in college three
years ago. If the term "lesbian" even applies - it was basically
just curiosity and experimentation and involved some petting with
a college friend. Because of my beliefs, I harbored feelings of
guilt over what had happened with my friend. In my head and
heart, I've always believed homosexuality to be wrong (it seemed
to go against my common sense and my sense of natural order). I
really felt no special attraction for women (I never even
"checked them out") and the incident had not been repeated.
Last year, I joined a women's group at church. There were about
20 of us that met each Tuesday night. I got to know most of the
ladies and became close friends with two of them in particular.
One of them was Michelle - we really hit it off from the start.
She was married and had two daughters (3 and 4 years old) and
was 6 years older than me, yet we had a lot of similar likes -
running, reading, and most notably, cappuccino - we'd drive 20
minutes for a good cappuccino!
We ran together three or four evenings a week and she and Rich
would even invite me over for dinner at least a few times a
month. In a way, they became sort of my family. I really
enjoyed those times.
My work schedule included Saturdays but I had Mondays off.
Michelle's kids were in pre-school for the mornings so she and I
would often go out to brunch or take a trip to the mall or the
bookstore. I remember having more than one conversation in
Barnes & Noble where she revealed a little more about her antics
with her husband than I needed to know.
It was a Monday in April when things got complicated. Michelle
suggested we have cappuccino at her house instead of going to
Barnes & Noble. It was quite good, in spite of the fact that
Michelle had only used the machine two times since receiving it
as a Christmas present a year and a half ago.
I noticed Michelle seemed preoccupied. I knew her well enough
to know something was bothering her. After several sips from my
mug, and seeing her anxiousness, I finally asked, "Michelle,
what's wrong". She just looked down, not making eye contact, and
silently sipped her cappuccino. Pressing the issue a little, I
again asked her. This time she looked me in the eyes. She had
this weighty look on her face and I thought such a serious
expression can't be good. In a split second I thought to myself,
she must have received horrific news from a doctor, maybe it was
one of the girls, then I thought maybe her husband was leaving
her. Finally, she began to say something, then suddenly got up
and just said, "I'm sorry, I don't feel very good". I told her
no problem, we'd have coffee next week. "I better get going -
see you tomorrow night at women's group - if you feel OK", I
said as I led myself to the door.
Michelle didn't make church group the next night, and we didn't
run together at all that week. I called her several times but
got her answering machine each time. In my last message, I told
her I was a little worried about her. Finally on Friday, she
called me back at work. "I'm doing better Deb", she said. I
asked if she was up for running after I got back from work. She
said she couldn't tonight, but how about cappuccino on Monday. I
told her "Great"!
I saw Michelle return from dropping the girls off at day care at
about 9:30 AM. So I got ready and headed over a few minutes
later. Michelle made us two cappuccinos while I told her about
what she had missed at our women's group. Michelle seemed to get
a little fidgety. She started to look like she had the previous
Monday. I walked over to her and asked, "Hey, are you OK?" Like
the previous week, she just looked down. "Did I do something", I
added. Finally Michelle looked up at me. Her eyes pierced mine.
I had hit a nerve and she was finally going to confide in me.
But no words came. Instead, in an act that would drastically
alter both our lives, she leaned forward and kissed me. It was
like a flame touching my lips. My mouth burned and I was frozen
motionless. I can't recall feeling any emotions at that instant.
What I felt was entirely localized to my lips. As suddenly as
it had begun, it was over, and Michelle's lips separated from
mine. She looked at me as if searching for a reaction, seeing
none, she brought her mouth back to mine. My mouth wasn't taken
by surprise this time, and my lips opened slightly on their own
accord. This second contact was just as sizzling as the first
and then intensified as I felt Michelle's tongue on my lips. It
slipped into my mouth, scraping past my teeth, brushing my own
tongue as she licked the roof of my mouth.
Involuntarily, I groaned into her mouth, giving her the reaction
she was waiting for. Michelle responded with passion filling my
mouth completely with the entirety of her tongue and then
exploring every hidden recess within. My body responded to her
as I felt a warmth flow up from deep within me. I gave myself
over to this passion and I began to kiss Michelle back, my tongue
dancing with hers as the two moved together back and forth
between our mouths.
I was filled with lust and found myself being led by it. As if
imitating the memory of what had been done to me in college, I
slipped my hand into Michelle's pants, sliding under the
waistband and into her panties. I was somewhere I had never been
before as I felt the soft warm flesh of another woman's vulva.
The sensation was electrifying and feeling her wetness, I was
awed by the reality that it was I who had done this to her. This
feeling was familiar, yet at the same time, completely new to me -
like nothing I had ever felt before. My actions had started out
sort of mechanical, but once I touched her down there I became
more deliberate and was now acting out of desire. Though I could
see nothing with my eyes, like a blind person my hand explored
her femininity and painted a vivid picture in my mind of every
detail of her womanhood. I could virtually see her soft puffy
vulva, imagining it to be pinker than my own.
I was overwhelmed with a desire to be completely intimate with
Michelle. Following my instincts, I sank my fingers into her
vagina. Two of my fingers penetrated her effortlessly, without
a hint of resistance, as if she were drawing my hand into her
vagina. It was so warm as my fingers were engulfed by her smooth
wetness - the memory of that feeling still vivid after months.
Our mouths still locked together, Michelle let out a guttural
"mmmm...", giving me confirmation that I was doing exactly what I
was supposed to.
Unable to concentrate on our tongues any longer, Michelle broke
our kiss and leaning back, grabbed her shirt and lifted it
quickly over her head. A moment later her hands were on her bra
as she lifted the modest cups over her taut breasts. Her nipples
were erect, protruding prominently from her dark areolas which
were slightly distended. As I found myself leaning to her, I had
no thought of "should I?", my only thought was "which one?" My
lips parted as I received her left nipple into my eager mouth.
Even more tantalizing than her tongue, I teased her teat, amazed
that I could feel each individual bump that covered her areola.
I suckled her as a baby would, eventually bringing more of her
breast into my mouth. It was so firm, yet her flesh was so soft
and smooth like silk in my mouth. Her taste was mildly sweet as
I noisily slurped at her nipple - all the while my fingers still
explored her darkest secrets.
Michelle began to buck against me and came in a violent orgasm.
I could feel her vagina squeeze my fingers as it convulsed from
the explosion that was raking through her. Then followed a hot
wetness as her juices seeped into my hand and began to run down
my wrist. I had made her cum! I had never before viewed a woman
as sexy - I suspect it is a training we subconsciously receive as
young girls. I remember thinking how odd this was - I mean, men
certainly see female beauty for what it really is - why don't
women?
The act of Michelle cuming on my hand, feeling and smelling her
wetness, and looking at my hand as it disappeared behind her
pants and into her vagina all came together and tore away a veil
that had covered my eyes. A veil that prevents a woman from
seeing another woman as sexy - from seeing another woman as an
object of intimate love. The female body IS sexy - why don't we
women see that, I thought to myself.
I now saw Michelle for the beautiful, sexy, desirable creature
that she was - she became the sensual creature in the world to
me. I wanted her breasts as her husband would - I desired to
take her wholly with my mouth. It no longer mattered that this
was another woman, it only mattered that we pleasured each other
so thoroughly.
Why had the idea of tasting a woman's vagina seemed so repugnant
before now - it must be an unconsciously learned thing. It is
familiar - it is a part of our own bodies - it should be
completely natural and comforting and pleasant. I was unlearning
my reluctance. I now sought her moistness, wanting to taste her.
I slipped my hand out of her and unbuttoned the fly to her
pants, grabbing her panties with her pants as I peeled them down
past her hips to her knees. I was intoxicated by lust for this
woman as I brought my mouth down to her mound. My lips opened
wide as I engulfed her entire vulva, then allowed my tongue to
slide up the full length of her slit - to which Michelle
responded with an enthusiastic "Oh god!" She tasted angelic and
I savoured every drop of her. I had licked her vulva clean of
her cum and I grazed her clit before slipping my tongue in
between her labia. Her trimmed pubic hair tickled my nose as I
pressed my tongue deep between her labia, pausing briefly before
entering her vagina with my pointed tongue. Michelle was making
plenty of noise as I continued to eat her and the reality of what
we were doing hit me and actually caused me to orgasm. I stopped
licking Michelle and just pressed my face hard between her legs
as I began to cum.
Michelle drew me up to her and we again kissed, our legs
intertwined, my thigh soaked from contact with her wet pussy,
hers the same. She kissed all of her cream from around my lips
and cheeks. I was almost crying out of joy and then out of grief
as I realized Michelle could not be mine. She had a family and
life of her own (a "normal "one at that). I became overwhelmed
with guilt - not only had I committed adultery with a married
woman, but my own deeply held convictions screamed to me that
homosexuality was wrong.
But there was no denying the feelings my body had for this
woman. I craved her - to be intimate with her - to be satisfied
by her - to pleasure her in return. The veil had been torn and
there was no undoing what had been done. My life would be in
turmoil as a result.
Even today, my head and heart reject what I am doing - not
because I have been brain washed but because I really believe my
convictions. I feel the added guilt of knowing I am committing
adultery with her and am meddling in a family where I really
don't belong (although, she is a very willing participant and
wants to keep what we have together). But my body needs this
woman and I find myself unable to deny my desires and my lust for
her - unable to give her up, unable to deny myself what I want
more than anything in life.
-THE END-
by Ginny Walker, 2002
wcollege2001@yahoo.com
Future stories will appear on my web site www.geocities.com/wcollege2001
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