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I’m not sure if it is possible she feels the same way. Sometimes I feel the way she looks at me and I think maybe the feeling is mutual but the thought of it scares me.
In my head when I think about the possibility of it, the possibility of her, I am nervous about the sexual side of things. My one and only experience with a woman was in college and it was a drunken bottle spin kiss that I barely remember. Now I allow myself to think about it there perhaps had been flutterings before that, although minimal and not something I had ever pursued.
As more and more time passes though I know that my desire for her is only growing stronger.
I have never been particularly well informed when it came to sex. Matt and I had had a good enough sex life especially in the beginning but then I don’t have much to compare it to. It was fun, happy, confident enjoyable vanilla. We learned quickly what the other liked and we were both more than happy to do those things for the other. We hadn’t experimented all that much and whilst I had no doubt that he watched porn, especially when he was away … I personally had never looked that much. Once or twice for the sake of curiosity, but I had enjoyed myself just as much with my fingers and imagination.
But now I find myself exploring porn in a way that I never have before. Opening up the incognito tab on my phone when I lay in bed, like someone somewhere would actually give a flying fuck that I Juliet Sansus was searching lesbian porn.
I didn’t find much excitement in the overly produced porn star shows that seemed about as real as a Marvel movie. The ones that catch my attention are the homemade movies, or at least they claim to be homemade, I’m never sure if they actually are.
I like the videos that actually seem real. I like when one of the women seems nervous and the other woman takes over and guides her. She shows her how to touch and how to give pleasure. I am mesmerized by the softness that is possible between two women. I am amazed how what I know as foreplay isn’t that at all. It is the main event and doesn’t last seconds, but minutes … hours … until the skin of the women glistens with sweat and every word whispered or moaned seems like they are both repeatedly brought to the edge of their climax.
And climax, they do, loudly and realistically, sometimes gushing their enthusiasm over the hand or mouth of their lover. I realize I love to watch these women in the throes of rapture and I start to see the difference between what is real and what is faked. Or, I think I do, at least.
My taste evolves, each night I watch more and more. Learning and observing until I start to feel more comfortable and confident in the touches that I have never given nor experienced. My searches become more focused, longer, and more detailed.
I move from shy girls and first-time touches to more experienced women. I fall into the porn world of rope, bondage, restraints. I don’t linger on the whipping, because the pain has never been an aphrodisiac to me, but the tease, the forced patience … long and slow, drawn-out edging where the girl would practically sell her soul for more touches- those videos set off feelings inside me that I have never felt before.
It isn’t long before those videos merge in my imagination. Faceless women of course become Arya in my mind. It is her soft silk scarf that wraps around my wrists, her perfectly steady surgeon’s hands that linger over my inner thighs, her soft delicate fingers that glide over my wet glistening folds until I am begging her for more.
The first time that I climaxed thinking about her I felt guilty, like I had overstepped the line and violated her in some way. But it soon became clear that I couldn’t stop myself, every night when I laid in bed … I thought of her. I imagined how it would be to have her here with me. To touch her, taste her and tease her and in turn give myself to her.
I look forward to the end of each day where I can strip off totally naked and slide between my soft white sheets. My hands are patient… I follow my favourite things from the videos… first my nails against my neck… down over my chest to my nipples which I circle slowly … I inch in closer and closer so my nipples are hard and aching before I have even felt a touch. And when that touch comes it is like a live hot wire straight between my legs … my back arching as my legs slide open, my thighs parting wid … so I can feel the air kiss my aching sex but with no further relief … Yet.
I tease myself for as long as I can, until I feel my own wetness drip down between my cheeks, pooling beneath my ass. I open and close my legs, rubbing my thighs together in a rhythm that starts slow … but works faster and faster until I can take no more.
Then I would split my legs so both ankles drape off either side of the bed and let my fingers dance through my sex. The sweet sound of my own wetness… I never knew I could be so wet. So hot. So turned on. I thought the moaning in porn was always exaggerated, and gasps and breathlessness from the exercise were more the reality. But I was so wrong. I find myself moaning so loudly I wondered if my neighbors can hear me. After my crashing orgasm it must have taken ten minutes for the world to come back into focus.
I have had orgasms before, don’t get me wrong, but nothing as intense as I feel now. Sometimes now, I push onwards after my climax, forcing myself to ride over the sensitivity. Every inch of my skin glistens in sweat, my body aches as though I have been at the gym for hours, between my legs is tender to the touch … but I feel myself building again towards another inevitable crescendo- the wow of my first double orgasms.
And it is Arya’s name that lingers on my lips. It is her touch I imagine, want and need when I come.
But as these desires explode within me, so do the doubts. I am 15 years Arya’s senior. I’m her boss. She is stunningly beautiful and could have her pick of women, not even just gay women, I am sure that her soft pink lips and enchanting eyes could entrance anyone. Why would she want me? I am at least ten years past my sexual prime and around thirty past my physical one.
My expensively highlighted hair might not show the greys that I am sure am in there somewhere, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that I am a lot older, and in the age range where I am starting to see lines, sagging skin, differences in myself physically.
I had been with one man for most of my adult life. Men are a different breed when it comes to sex. The desire and need overtakes them and sometimes I used to feel like Matt didn’t even see me when we were fucking, he was lost in his own primitive nature. That wasn’t always a bad thing as often I was lost in my own world too while we fucked.
I most certainly do not feel that way about Arya. In fact, I have had to almost draw a line in my mind to separate our friendship, our working relationship, and the desires that I have for her because if I let my lust for her that is building every day manifest in an outward display of affection … I fear I would only ruin our friendship and feel the cold hard sting of rejection.
5
Spring passes and the city awakens from it’s wintery slumber and embraces summer in all her glory. I swear even the hospital breathes a new lease of life when the long summer days come around. I enjoy that I can walk to work in the light and when I leave at whatever time it may be, the sun is still out high in the sky.
I feel at my best mentally and that makes me act healthier too. I ditch the frozen meals and processed crap and eat out on sunny terraces with actual fruit and vegetables. I actually use my gym membership for a change and my coffee intake drops to the levels of a normal human. I am definitely a summer baby. A highlight in my younger years was my July birthday and I always enjoyed a relaxed outdoor celebration with friends and family. But now it has a twinge that comes with it as I grow another year older, and now I do it alone. Single; actually, divorced.
I have read in women’s magazines and seen references to it in movies and series that when a woman becomes single, she is often shunned from her social group. I haven’t exactly noticed that because most of my friends are work colleagues but there has been a definite shift. A realignment. Colleagues I still work with or who are active in my professional life still invite me to things as though Matt was never present. And people with who he now works more closely with have certainly dropped out of my frequent messages circle.
I feel sad about it, as though they don’t believe I am mature enough to handle seeing Matt socially. But, of course I am. After everything, I wish him the best and hold no malice, but it was Arya that pointed out, that it wasn’t about my feelings.
“You are a walking reminder that relationships are fragile. The thing is Juliet, is that if they see just you or just Matt, they don’t have to acknowledge really that you have separated.” She explains with one hand held up to the sun as we meander around the city park on a sunny Sunday afternoon. “but if you are there together … but not together … there has to be an acceptance that you two have in fact chosen to end what you had. And some women are scared of that, some are jealous of it, and others … just don’t want to think about it. So, that is why you are not both invited. It isn’t actually about you or Matt. It is about the insecurities they feel in themselves.”
She looks perfect. She is dressed in a light floral print skirt and loosely tucked tee. Her blonde hair is down, which is unusual for her, but it looks so naturally golden in the mid-afternoon sun. Her skin is still pale, I bronzed in the first few minutes of seeing the sun, but not Arya. She still has the pale sheen to her skin but there is a soft hint of pink across her cheeks and shoulders.
“I didn’t think about it like that,” I reply honestly and she mock rolls her eyes.
“That is because you give people far too much credit. You imagine that they are thinking about you and your feelings when in actual fact they are only thinking of themselves in most cases.”
