Mistake number…

By: Robin Alexander

Disclaimer: This short story contains sexual relations between two consenting and adult women. This is intended for mature readers.

I welcome all comments, this is how I learn so feel free to write me at: robinalex65@yahoo.com

I stood staring at the phone as my internal debate raged on. Part of me wanted to pick it up and call her the other half wanted to leave well enough alone. I walked over to my bedroom window and looked across the courtyard to her apartment. Her light was still on. I wasn’t surprised, she rarely slept.

I snapped the blinds shut and went down stairs for a glass of wine hoping that it would soothe me and I could finally get some sleep. Since the day I met her sleep has evaded me, and unlike her I cannot function on just a few hours a night. Why couldn’t I just chalk this up to just one more mistake and get on with my life?

I curse the day I first spoke to her in the parking lot of our apartment complex. Something as simple as just saying hello brought all of this anxiety crashing into my life. My mom told me never talk to strangers when I was a child, now I know why.

I was drawn to her the minute I saw her. I don’t know why. I am not attracted to butch women. I have always adored the feminine type, but this one turned my head. Maybe it was the big green eyes. Now those eyes haunt me each night when I pray for sleep. How could I have done this to myself?

As these things often do, one word led to another and soon we were inviting one another over for drinks. She confided in me about the recent demise of a seven year relationship that really died five years ago. I listened, and was supportive, feeling and understanding her pain.

As I sat there exuding all of the compassion that I could muster part of me secretly was thrilled that she was single. When she was lost in thought I took the opportunity to look over her body, which was defined by muscle that stood out against her skin with the slightest movement. Normally, I would not find this appealing, but for some reason I was captivated.

I think now maybe it was because she was completely opposite to what I usually went for. Maybe it was because I knew she was just out of a relationship and that meant danger. Whatever it was drew me like a moth to a flame and I was powerless to stop it.

I knew I was in big trouble when one night we were sitting on her living room floor talking about women in general. She asked me what type of woman I was attracted to. I admitted that I loved feminine women, which seemed to surprise her since I was feminine myself. She had it all in a neat little package. The way she saw it was a fem should be with a butch. Fem with fem did not work in her opinion. She sounded a lot like a man, but still I sat there respectfully disagreeing. I was attracted to what I was attracted to and I wasn’t about to apologize.

The next thing I remember was the softest pair of lips pressing against mine and I sank willingly into the kiss. I remember the feel of those muscular arms wrapped around me as I ran my hands up and down her firm back. I was only slightly aware of her laying me down on the floor as she lavished me with soft kisses. My mind screamed out warnings, but the rest of me yelled back. "What the hell! Why not?"

Her skin was deceptively smooth as it brushed against mine. I caught the faint scent of men’s cologne as I nibbled her neck. I fought the urge to giggle. I had never been with a woman who would dare wear such a scent but it made her all the more alluring. Her hands undoing my pants chased all humor from my mind.

She kissed her way down my body as I ran my fingers through her hair. I trembled with each touch of her lips on my skin. My body felt like a fire had been stoked deep within. The first time I wrapped my legs around those strong shoulders I marveled at her gentle touch that took me places that I had not been in a very long time. She brought me to exhaustion so many times I did not have the strength to lift my arms, let along move from the spot. We spent the night on her living room floor.

As good as it was I was still not satisfied. I wanted to touch her and make her feel the things that she had made me feel over and over again. The next time we were together I turned the tables and became the aggressor. I could tell she was not comfortable with being submissive by the way her body stiffened under my touch. When we broke from the kiss I could see the flush on her neck and face and the way her nipples hardened under her shirt. She was aroused, and that was all I needed to know.

My seduction was relentless till I wore her down, and she gave control of her body over to me completely. With my fingers inside of her I lay fully on top of her. Her muscular frame was more than able to support my full weight upon her. I kissed her neck as each thrust of my hips sent sensations of pure pleasure tearing through her body.

She dug her fingers into the sheets and with the other hand pulled my hair as I tasted her for the very first time. I could not help the smile that spread over my face as she screamed my name over and over again. I had successfully seduced the butch.

Now as I stare at her window I wonder if I can put my pride aside and be the one who calls first. It is becoming more apparent by the minute that I am not so sure that I have won the little war. Perhaps I am still the one who has been seduced. I accept defeat and call her number. The smile in her voice confirms that I am the one who has conceded in our battle of wills.

As I wait for her knock on my door I realize something that has escaped me. On the inside of me is a little butch in hiding, and on the inside of her lies a little fem in waiting. I realize now after all of these years I have cheated myself. After all it is what is on the inside that counts.

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