A Wife's Decision

Hi everyone! This could be considered a companion piece to my series "A Tribute to my Daddy." It deals with another character's emotions and motivations. Anyway, it's a strictly lesbian story that hopefully I'll be working on more as time permits. If you take the time to read it, please vote, even if you only decide to give it a 1. Also, any feedback is appreciated, either anonymous or direct. Thank you!

*

If only he knew what I was up to, I thought. He'd have a heart attack. Of course, when I was having this fleeting thought, my head was buried between the legs of a gorgeous girl who I'd just met. More specifically, a gorgeous blonde twenty-something who worked at the strip club a few blocks from work. After all, we girls have to have our fun, don't we?

I should probably explain who "he" is. That would be my husband. We've been married almost twenty years, and for most of it, I'd been pretty happy. But on my fortieth birthday, back in January, one of my girlfriends, Jenny -- the innocent kind of girlfriend, mind you -- had decided that I needed a wild night of partying, to help me recapture the old days, before I was, in her words "growing mature."

So, we put on the sort of clothes we would have put on when we were going out trolling for men in college: short skirts, low-cut tops, slutty heels, the works. After we hit the third bar, most of the places in town were closing, but neither one of us felt like going home. "There's one more place open," she had told me, and with those words, we had ended up at a fairly sleazy strip joint at about two in the morning. It was a Thursday, and hardly anyone was there. If we got any funny looks when we paid our cover charge, I didn't notice them. In fact, from the moment I walked in, my eyes were on the girl dancing.

She was hot. There's no other way to put it. Maybe she wasn't a stereotypical Hollywood sort of beautiful, but she had sex appeal. She was shorter than I expected a stripper to be, with black hair cut in a bob, and perky, but natural, breasts "Let's hear it for Amber," the announcer said as she walked off stage. I gave Jenny a look along the lines of "why on Earth are we here?" but she just smiled at me, and bought me another drink. It was my birthday after all.

I think I had a few more drinks before I made it into the cab. On the ride home, all I could think of was that these women, or as I really thought of them, these slutty girls, stirred something in me that my husband didn't. Sure, he was a good provider. Sure, he took excellent care of me and my daughter, who'd be off to college in the fall. But something wasn't clicking in our sex life anymore. It wasn't as if we weren't trying; we still had sex frequently, and we both tried hard to include new things and keep what passion we had alive. I had to be honest with myself though: after my birthday, I wasn't sure that I didn't want to see what girls like Amber had to offer.

After that, my habit started as innocently as it could. I'd go into work an hour early, work through lunch, and then head out about an hour and half earlier than I normally did. I'd spend those ninety glorious minutes at the strip club, ogling the girls, slipping them a few bucks here and there. The really cute ones -- like Amber -- might have gotten more than a few. I wasn't spending enough money to make my husband suspicious, just enough to keep the girls intrigued. I'd read somewhere that most strippers would rather be with a woman; maybe they were sick of all the male attention. Or maybe the statistic was a lie and I was just doing some wishful thinking.

On my fourth or fifth visit to the club, Amber finally came up to me. "I see you here all the time, babe, and I'm beginning to wonder." I swallowed, a little nervous, worried that my secret was about to come out. That I wanted to see what would happen with the little pixie.

"Wonder what? If the ribs are really good enough to keep a woman like me coming back? Or if there's something else?" I tried to play it cool, but flirtatious. If I could play my cards right with this girl, I was going to. I'll be honest; the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to feel a woman licking my pussy, rather than my husband's well-meaning, but less than gentle attempts at it. I can't help it if the man grows stubble faster than he can shave. Just one time, I wanted to know what a woman's touch felt like.

Amber rolled her eyes at me. "You don't have to play coy. I know you've been tipping me more than the other girls. But, I have to say, I think I know your type. You've been married for fifteen, maybe twenty years -- even though you don't look old enough -- have a couple of kids, boys probably. Mothers of girls don't typically come round here. They get the worst ideas." She grinned. "I proved my mom right years ago." Her smile was something else. Two rows of white teeth, glinting in the dim lights of the club. "Maybe you kissed a girl in college, maybe you didn't, but what you want is a one-time thing with a girl you don't have to care about."

Her self-righteous speech had made me a little angry, not just because I felt it was wrong, but because I was worried it might actually be right. "Actually, I have a daughter. One daughter, going to college in the fall. And you're right, I've never done anything with a girl, at least not yet. I'm not sure what I want, but I'm not the type of woman to just...dabble in this sort of thing. Don't insult me."

She smiled at me again, with just a hint of a patronizing look in her eyes. "Well, if you're serious about wanting some grade-A pussy, I have a friend that might be just right. She loves being a girl's first time. I think she'd absolutely adore you. I could introduce you?"

I nodded, half in eagerness, half in disappointment. I didn't want just some girl, no matter how hot she was or how good she could make me feel. I wanted Amber, then and there. I just wanted to suck on her tits, dive between her legs, feel her fingers slip inside me. And, this conversation had left me confused about her. Was she straight, and trying to put me off on another girl out of compassion, or was I too old for her, or did she just not want to get involved with a patron, or what? What did she want, and how could I give it to her. "I'd like to meet her. What's she look like?"

"You know that blonde dancer with the long hair, Olivia? It's her sister. She doesn't work here, but I've been over to her place a couple of times. I left in a much better mood than I went in, if you know what I'm saying. I'm not quite sure how to describe her, but to be honest, she licks pussy like it's keeping her alive."

Inside, I cheered. So Amber was interested in women, at least a little bit. I still had a chance. I didn't know how big a chance, but it still existed, at that was what counted. "I think I know the one you mean."

And that was how I got Irene's number, whose pussy was up against my tongue at the beginning of my story. I can't say she wasn't attractive, but she wasn't as hot as Amber was. Amber just did something for me. But Irene was pretty in her own way. She was blonde like her sister, not very tall, maybe only five-four, but her curves were in all the right places. The first time I saw her, I wanted her too. Maybe not as much as Amber, but I wanted to get her out of those clothes and see those curves up close.

A couple of days later, I got up the courage to call this new, mystery girl. It was a thrill, both the calling up a woman for sex, and the knowledge that I was cheating on my husband. I wanted something he couldn't give me, could never give me, and I was going to get it. I was going to see what Irene had to offer.

We made a "date," if you can call it that. Basically, I was just going to go over to Irene's and have sex with her. I felt kind of trashy doing that sort of thing, but if she was OK with it, then I was going to be OK with it too. Besides, if I didn't have a fun time with her, I'd know that what I felt about Amber was just some sort of weird crush, and it would probably fade with time.

Before I left work early that day -- my boss had begun commenting on it, but as long as I was putting in my forty hours a week, he couldn't really complain -- I went to the restroom and dolled myself up. I had brought a whole change of clothes with me to work. A sheer white blouse, with a black miniskirt that barely covered anything and hinted clearly at what it did cover. I skipped the bra, and slipped off my "normal" panties to put on a brand-new black thong. I wanted Irene to see me at my best, and with at least something on I didn't associate with my husband.

I had to make sure no one saw me on the way out, a feat which I managed, even though I had to duck into an empty office when I saw my boss coming. But I made it to my car, my knees shaking in anticipation, and drove the three miles to Irene's apartment. She lived in a fairly rundown part of town, so when she opened the door, I was surprised by how nice the inside was. "You must be Audrey," she said with a smile. That smile could have been all she was wearing for all I was paying attention just then. She just exuded sex, and I could feel it.

"Um, yeah. May I come in, Irene?" She nodded, practically tugging me in. Her hair was a mess, but it suited her, locks curling every which way about her face. She was wearing a green t-shirt, which showed she was clearly not wearing a bra, because her nipples poked the soft cotton fabric out, and tight blue jeans. I couldn't help but wonder why a girl who was maybe twenty-three would invite a forty-year-old woman up for sex. I felt old in front of her, but if she thought I did, she didn't show it.

Before I had a chance to sit down, her lips were on mine. "I know Amber said you were cute, but I didn't expect this." I blushed, kissing her back faintly. Guiltily, I thought about Amber and how my chances might be better than I thought, even as I deepened the kiss with Irene. I didn't feel like I was cheating on my husband, at least not yet, but a little part of me felt I was cheating on Amber, a girl I hadn't even touched, just seen naked a half-dozen times. But those thoughts washed away as Irene's kiss got hungrier and hungrier, her hands beginning to rub my back, my ass, pulling me to her.

The kiss was intense, our tongues pressing up against one another, darting into mouths, our teeth tugging at the other's lips. I moaned involuntarily as her mouth moved against my neck, sucking on the little patch of skin between my shoulder and my throat. "First time, huh?" she said with a grin. "Took you long enough, it seems."

I nodded weakly. If a girl, a random girl, could do this to me, I wondered if I might have just been a lesbian -- or at least bisexual -- all along and not known it. "Does it show? I mean, tell me if I do something wrong, or bad, or ... whatever." I was stumbling over my words, my pussy heating up, even as I licked my lips, wanting more.

"Oh, don't you worry. I'll take good care of you, Audrey. By the time you leave here, we'll be trying to figure out when you can come back. And just because you're a little older than the other girls I've brought back here, you're no less beautiful." I blushed again -- this was becoming a habit.

"Promise?" I was already liking this girl. She knew how to flatter.

"I promise." She gave me another nibble to the side of my neck. "You are gorgeous, pretty, beautiful, and I can't wait to taste you." Proving that she said what she meant, one hand dipped under my skirt, brushing against my thigh, trailing up to my crotch. "Babydoll," she said, "you're not going to need that thong much longer."

I pulled my skirt up a little so she could get a better view, then guided her hand to the band. She tugged, hard, pulling the underwear down to my knees. "May I?" she asked, then without waiting for an answer, pulled them off, gently taking off my heels in the process. I wasn't sure what to think. I was standing there wearing only a blouse and skirt, and at this point, my skirt may as well have been non-existent. She led me to the couch, pressing me down to it. "Now, if you want me to stop, just tell me to. I know you're new at this, and I don't want to scare you. I just want you to enjoy yourself."

She spread my legs slowly, inhaling deeply as if to take in as much of my scent as possible, then laid her head at my crotch. Instinctively, I pulled her head closer. "I like a girl who knows what she wants," she said, then her tongue darted out to tap against my clit. I moaned so loud I thought the neighbors could hear. Already soaked and needy, I wanted to cum. I wanted this girl to make me cum. I wanted any girl to make me cum. Fuck my husband and his cock: I wanted a girl who wanted my pussy.

"Patience, hon," she said, before licking at me slowly. My clit tingled, throbbed, ached for more. She teased me. I know she did, before her tongue ran the entire length of my slit. "Come on," I said, knowing I was whining. "Make me...make me cum..." I know I was being greedy, but I needed it. I needed it so bad.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," she said, grinning. "If this is your first time, I better make it good." I squirmed at her touch, her tongue rolling along my clit, darting down to touch darker places, just barely brushing my insides. Suddenly, I felt three sharp strokes along my clit. "A is for your ass, which I can't wait to see." A few more, and it was "B is for your breasts, which I'm sure I'll love." One long curved stroke brought me C, which was for cunt, one of my favorite dirty words. I didn't know what to think. Here I was, getting my cunt licked by this dirty-talking girl, and I loved it. I wanted more. I pressed her head hard against my crotch, bucking my hips to get more sensation. "D is for dirty, which is what you are." I blushed. I love, love, love dirty talk, and here this girl was, hitting all the right spots, both physically and psychologically.

I don't remember the rest of the alphabet, because somewhere between G and H I couldn't control it. But she didn't stop. Even as I came, she kept licking. My husband stops the moment I start, but Irene just kept at it, licking my slit, nibbling on my clit -- which felt both painful and amazing -- just fucking me with her mouth. And all I could think was "This is how it's supposed to feel." I moaned, screamed, yelled, everything. Irene loved it, laughing delightedly each time I said her name, each time I told her not to stop. But she did, once she hit Z. I really wish I could remember what Z was, because I'm sure it must have been hard to come up with.

I was covered in sweat, my skirt up to my waist, my blouse twisted on my body. I threw my head back and moaned again, loving this feeling. Normally, I'm just an average businesswoman with an average husband and an average life, but here I was fucking an almost-stranger, a woman no less, on her couch and I loved it. "What...what do we do now?" I said, trying to catch my breath.

"Mmm...I think that depends on what you want. I think that orgasm was building for a long time. What's the matter babe, doesn't your husband make you cum?"

I nodded, then paused. "Well, sort of, he does. Just...not like that. That was...better than anything. It was like only ever hearing Chopsticks on the piano and then going to the orchestra."

She smiled. "Glad I could help, then. I think we need to get you out of those clothes before you sweat them to pieces." She found the zipper of my skirt, and with one swift motion pulled it down, then the skirt off of me. I fumbled with my blouse for a few moments, before getting it off as well, leaving me naked on her couch.

"You asked me what next? I think we need to move to the bedroom." I followed her to the bedroom, leaving my clothes in a heap in her front room. Even as we entered, she was removing her own clothes, leaving this gorgeous blonde naked in front of me. "Do you want more, or would you like to return the favor? I understand if you don't want to -- at least not this time."

I shook my head at her. "What do you mean 'don't want to?' And God, there better be a next time," I said. Playfully, I pushed her down against the bed. "Just remember, I might need a little help." And with that said, I leaned down over her, giving her another kiss, my right hand moving to her breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingers.

"God, I love it when girls play with my tits," she said after breaking the kiss. "Don't be shy -- you can suck on them too."

I didn't really need the hint. Eagerly, I went to her left breast, trailing my tongue all around her breast, circling her nipple greedily. "You like it when I do this," I asked innocently, before latching my mouth around her nipple, sucking on it hungrily. I lapped at it with my tongue, teasing her a little. I wasn't quite sure what I was doing, only that I knew it worked on me. It must be a global sort of thing, because she moaned loudly. "That's right, just like that," she said. Her words of encouragement spurred me on, and I began to rub against her, my belly bumping against her crotch.

After a few moments, I switched breasts, but I was already hungry for something else. For the past week or so, I'd been playing with the idea of going down on a girl, and here was my chance. "I think I'm ready," I said softly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, then slowly pushed my head down, aiming it straight for her pussy. Unlike mine, which I've taken to only trimming once every three weeks or so, once it starts feeling out of hand, her cunt was nearly bald, with only a little hair up at the top. Probably to make it easier to eat, I told myself. After that little thought, I pressed my face up against her, smelling something I'd never really gotten the chance to before: a woman's scent, up close and personal. Tentatively, I reached out my tongue and gave her entire pussy a lick, all the way from the very bottom, ending up by her clit. She rolled her hips up towards my mouth, making me squirm. A fantasy of mine was coming true! Here I was, licking a pussy. And I was getting into it.

I started licking faster and faster, hungrier. I wasn't so concerned about my technique as I thought I would be. All I cared about was her taste, her scent, drawing out the experience, teasing her, but in the end making her cum. She did it for me, so I wanted to return the favor. I wanted to suck on her clit, lick her pussy, draw those delicious lips into my mouth. I wanted girl juices smeared across my face and the scent of pussy lingering in my hair. I've never let my husband cum on me -- no matter how much he's tried to convince me -- but here I was wishing this girl could.

Irene started thrashing about, pressing herself against my mouth, but somehow I knew she wasn't quite there yet, that what I was doing wasn't quite enough. "What else," I said, breathless as I ducked my head back down to give her nub a few more licks.

"Just keep at it, baby," she said. "Sometimes it takes a while. We girls are a little different, you have to remember." I blushed, thinking it was a little silly that I could make her cum just as fast as I did my husband, but it didn't bother me. It just meant more pussy for me. So I dived right back into it, nuzzling into her thighs as I pressed my tongue hard against her little clit. It was like a dream. I had this delicious cunt in front of me, and for the time being, it was all mine. When she moaned, it was because I licked in just the right place. When she squirmed, it was because I was teasing her. And when she screamed my name, it was because I had finally pushed her over the edge.

"Oh fuck," she said, rocking her hips back against my tongue. Remembering how she hadn't stopped, I kept licking at her, darting my tongue in and out of her, teasing her, but not letting her escape me. And I was glowing: I had given this beautiful girl an orgasm, the same sort of screaming, hands-balled, thrashing cum that she had given me. My pussy was dripping again and I'm sure the room stank of it. But I wasn't stopping until Irene pushed me away. I just kept licking and licking. Maybe I didn't have the talent to spell out words yet, but I did my best.