Crisis of Midlife

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By age 30 I found myself in crisis mode brought on by formerly latent desires rising to the surface like air bubbles in water. Married for 4 years to the man of my dreams, I wanted more than a friendship with Danielle Long, a lesbian whom I had met through Instagram.

The recent photo originally published on her instagram, one that she also emailed to me recently, shows a very attractive blue-eyed blond wearing a blue bikini on Headlands Beach. She has a slim hourglass figure. Her hair is short, a style similar to that of Ellen.

Anyway, Tuesday night sees my husband Fred bowling, gone since 7 o’clock. If he and friends go someplace for a beer, which they usually do, he’s not likely to be home much before 9 30.

Sitting comfortably on the recliner in the livingroom, I placed a Facetime call which Dani answered on the second ring.

“Hey Stephanie, how’s the world treating you?”

“I’m good, and you?”

“Great.”

“What are you up to?”

“A girls night is looking more and more like a good idea.”

“Where did you have in mind? And when?”

“I’m thinking Charleston Lounge, Friday night. I’m ready to tell my husband that I’m gay, or just let him catch me in the act.”

She chuckled but did not reply immediately.

“How come you never told me that you’re marred?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to make sure of what I have.”

“Fair enough,” she replied.

“Dani I’m ready for more than a friendship.”

“Are you telling me you want to have sex?”

I answered with a silent grin and a nod.

“In your master bedroom right?”

Again I replied with a silent grin and a nod.

The conversation became trivial at that point, much like other conversations istanbul travesti that we’ve had during the past four months.

Seconds after ending the call I walked naked to the bedroom leaving my clothes strewn about the livingroom floor. Lying face up, I gave my clit a hard rub back and forth bringing on a powerful orgasm. For a minute afterward I lay recuperating slowly and wanting yet another climax.

Charleston Lounge is a popular lesbian haunt which, until now, I know only through photos and it’s web page.

Friday night a 7 30 a red Toyota UBER driven by a 50 something gent dropped me off about 50 steps from that club. My heals clacked on the concrete. On the warm summer evening I’m wearing a white half-button cropped cami top, much like I used to wear to get a guy’s attention. Tight midrise jeans accentuate my curves.

The Charleston lesbian bar turns out to be pretty much what I expected. Provocative pictures hang on the walls. A rainbow flag is suspended from the ceiling. Lampshades hang. Ceiling fans spin cooling the room.

Scanning the room for Danielle, I see several girls dancing, or more like stepping and swaying to loud music. Couples are flirting. Every bar stool is occupied. Off in another direction there is a pool table. A match is in progress.

Dani had told me to “be on the lookout for a girl wearing a white long-sleeved buttoned-blouse”. So far, though I’ve only been here for a few minutes, I see no one wearing that.

Finally, she approached me.

“Stephanie I’m so glad you came.”

“I wouldn’t miss this.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Gin and Tonic,” I replied.

“Let’s go to the bar.”

The bartender, like Dani, is blond with istanbul travestileri short hair and blue eyes, but otherwise dissimilar facial features. I also noted that her boobs are rather modest, unlike those on Dani.

Dani ordered gin and tonic for me and a White Russian for herself which we sipped.

I did not say that I will miss my soon to be ex-husband, even though it is true. I talked about a lot of trivial stuff, our bowling nights when we were dating being one topic.

With that alcohol in my blood I sensed that my inhibitions were lowered. As Dani and I danced to “Call Me Maybe” performed by Carly Rae Jepsen my eyes went to her waist then a little lower. A flirtatious touch made her grin. She returned the touch.

If you were to open my pants I would not object.

A tune by Meghan Trainor titled “All About the Bass” followed keeping us on the dance floor even though the crowd thinned out. Couples soon replaced those who left.

Her fingers crept downward from the waist of my pants to my crotch.

Open my pants at your leisure babe.

Shortly after midnight an UBER driver, this time a 20 something girl with long chestnut-brown straight hair, came to fetch us in front of the lesbian bar.

In a talkative mood I asked, “do you bring many girls here.”

“Not many,” she replied. “That’s a lesbian bar isn’t it.”

“Yah,” I replied.

“I’ve been there myself a couple of times.”

“Cool.”

Dani added to the conversation. “She was with me.”

A few minutes later the UBER Honda let us out in front of my home, a ranch with a false brick front. Just out of the car I put my arm inside her arm as our taxi drove away in the darkness.

“My travesti istanbul husband is out with musician friends. He’ll be away until Monday.”

“Cool,” said Dani.

At the front door she pulled me into an open-mouth kiss. Our tongues probed. Lips closed on each other’s lip.

I let us inside and we strolled to the master bedroom. Within a minute Dani and I undressed each other leaving our clothes in separate heaps.

“Nice boobs,” she quipped as she cupped them.

Danielle stretched out atop me squashing my breasts under her breasts as we kissed. She wedged her thigh between my thighs while putting her hand against my clit.

She crawled backward putting her tongue on my nipple as her lips surrounded my areola.

Minutes passed. She crawled backward again, this time putting her tongue between my labia. She lifted her head out of my lady parts replacing her tongue with two fingers.

Her fingers slid slowly in and out and in again touching my G-spot.

Suddenly my orgasm left me huffing and flat on my back. I flashed a toothy smile of satisfaction.

“Was it good for you?”


“It was really really good.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

A few seconds passed in silence then I spoke.

“Can you stay the weekend?”

So what if my husband sees you kissing me. Dani I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.

“I go to work Monday. It’s not like I have office attire here.”

On Saturday morning I opened my eyes to the vacated left side of the bed, the side that always belonged to my husband.

I walked into the bathroom just as my lover was stepping out of the shower. We pulled each other into an open-mouth kiss. Caressing hands crept from my clavicle to my tits. Her palms brushed up and down on my nipples.

On Sunday night at 10 Dani called for an UBER. Together we waited under the stars though she would be taking the ride by herself.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

“I know.” Her voice was soft, her expression melancholy.

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