“Love dwells not …” Part 1 of 4

Helen is my closest friend. She is smart, fun-loving, affectionate, tall, blonde and gorgeous. She is married and straight ¦ and I am in love with her.

I came late in life to the loving of women. During my school days, my friends were males “ both gay and straight. When I went out into the world to make my living, I worked “ and thrived “ in male-dominated professions. In sports, I competed against men. Eventually, I married one.

As I matured, I learned the value of female friends. Over time, I began to realize that I was attracted to some women. One day, I fell in love with one.

I met Helen when we both served on a committee for a fund-raising event. We hit it off immediately. After our husbands met and liked each other, we became a “foursome “ we played cards, ate out, cooked in, and took trips together. We became as comfortable in each other’s homes as we were in our own.

On a weekend when both of our husbands were away, we met a group of girlfriends for a naked-by-the-pool day “ no men allowed. We had such fun that we decided to continue the day with a “girl’s night at my house “ the kind for grown women, with champagne, chocolates and lots of talk about our lives ¦ and sex!

Our evening was filled with laughter and shared secrets. Because we had played all day, the party ended by around 8:30 p.m. Helen decided to sleep over, rather than go home to her empty house.

Taking our champagne with us, Helen and I retired to the master bedroom. We got into our night clothes, put an old movie on the TV and climbed into my king-sized bed.

Helen looked surprised. “I thought you slept naked.

“I probably will, but for just hanging out, this will do.

Propped up with pillows and champagne in hand, we ignored the TV in favor of talking about sex.

Helen looked around. “So where are they?

“Where are what?

“Your sex toys. After listening to you, I expected to see them all over the room!

“They’re here. We keep them hidden in strategic spots around the bed so that they’re easy to reach, but out of sight so guests who wander in to use the bathroom won’t be scandalized. I sipped my champagne. “Why ¦ Want to play with them?

“No. I was just curious. Helen refilled her glass and launched into a tale about one of her experiences with vibrators. That led to more talk about toys, and sex in general.

Eventually, we worked our way around to my interest in her. I’d brought it up before, and although Helen had always laughed me off, she returned to the subject every so often. That night she repeated her belief, “You just want what you can’t have, that’s all. She contemplated her champagne. “If I said ˜yes,’ you would lose interest.

I took her glass from her and set it, with mine, on the shelf behind the bed. Kneeling in front of her, I looked into her eyes. “You are wrong. I stroked one finger down her cheek. “You’ve kissed me, but then pulled away. I think you’re afraid.

I leaned forward as if to kiss her lips, but kissed her cheek instead, and then nibbled my way to her jaw and down the side of her neck. I gave soft kisses and took little tastes. Helen leaned her head back, exposing her throat to my lips. I moved slowly, gently licking and kissing from the hollow of her throat to her chin.

When I stopped, she lowered her head and looked at me. Her eyes were huge and her mouth was slightly open. That’s when I kissed her, leaning forward to gently taste and then suck her lips. I ran my tongue just inside her mouth, kissing and nibbling her lips until her tongue darted out to touch mine.

I pulled back and again met her gaze. “Take off your jammies and I’ll put some lotion on your sunburn.

Helen’s hand shook a little as she reached for her champagne. Sipping, she stared at me, trying to decide what to do. She hesitated for so long that I thought she would refuse. Suddenly she smiled, put down her champagne and reached for the buttons on her pajama top.

As she worked the buttons loose, Helen got a knowing look in her eye “ one that that I recognized from our card-playing evenings. She had decided to call what she thought was my bluff.

Helen peeled off her top and dropped it on the floor.

“Bottoms, too, I instructed. “If I know you, your butt is scorched.

She slipped her shorts over her hips. I pulled them the rest of the way off and tossed them to the floor.

“Slide down and turn over, I told her, as I reached for the lotion.

“What about you?

I pulled off my nightshirt and tossed it away. “Better?

“Much. Helen slid down and rolled onto her stomach; the knowing look still on her face. I was pretty sure it would be gone soon enough.

to be continued…

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