Roadside Motels Make Me Think of You

It was 2002, I was 25 years old and had never had an orgasm. It definitely wasn’t due to lack of trying. I had been willingly sexually active for nine years at that point, and though it felt good, some of the time, the elusive orgasm just wasn’t happening.

The funny thing was, since I had never experienced one, I actually thought I had. I remember being 16 or so, doing dirty things with a guy in his car, and having oral sex performed on me, for the first time. It felt pretty fantastic, and I remember the sensation of something, building, but not quite getting to, well, whatever it was building towards, before he stopped.

I remember being really fucking disappointed.

At the time, I wouldn’t have dared voice my objection to him stopping. I was not the loud mouthed vixen I am today, that’s for sure. I just went with the flow, he did his thing, and that was that.

That’s pretty much how all my sexual encounters went. He was the first guy I had been with that went down on me, and the last for quite some time. Honestly, I don’t remember it happening again until I got married, and that was very few and far between.

And folks wonder why I began exploring other aspects of my sexuality.

I met Bridgot in a chat room on Yahoo in late 2001. My husband and I had many conversations over the course of a year about my desire to try being with a woman. My best friend at the time was bisexual, she was the first openly bisexual female friend I’d ever had. She and I talked about her experiences a lot, and I’m not ashamed to say, I had more than a little crush on her.

But my husband was dead set against me getting involved with her at all. He didn’t want me doing anything with someone that lived that close to us. He was afraid of someone finding out. Quite honestly, I think he was afraid I would enjoy it and leave him.

It was a high possibility.

After much discussion, we agreed that I would go online with my search. After many arguments, he grudgingly agreed that I would be looking solely for myself, without him being involved at all.

Deep down I knew I was interested in women before I met my best friend. But it wasn’t something I had ever had an opportunity to explore. I went to college, but I didn’t have the experience of living in the dorms or anything like that; you know, the “typical” college life. I was already a mom, worked full-time and went to school full-time. I didn’t have time for partying and such. So I never explored my sexuality, other than traditional dating.

But the thought was always there. At the age of 25, I finally had the opportunity to act on it.

Bridgot and I talked for a couple of months before we decided to meet in person. She was also married. Since neither of our husbands were to be involved, we decided to meet halfway, in a motel.

She had been with women before, had even been in relationships with them before. She was to be my first. There was 13 years difference in our ages, her being older. It bothered her some, at first, but not me. I honestly didn’t seem to have much of a type when it came to women, not like I did with men. She was a biker chick, as in, she rode. She had a Kawasaki 650, which mesmerized me. My brothers are bikers, but I had never met a woman who had her own.

I shouldn’t say she was butch or femme, she was somewhere in between. She was covered in tattoos, chin length funky colored hair (I think it was blue and pink when we met), tiny breasts, not too thin but not thick in the middle, but soft. Big butt. Thick thighs. Beautiful green eyes. The softest lips I’ve ever kissed.

She’s not the first girl I’ve ever kissed, but she is the first woman. She was wearing chap stick, but it was vanilla, not cherry. I kissed her first. I learned that I am definitely the instigator when it comes to sex with a woman. Even with it being my first time, I started it.

We spent hours touching each other, exploring, tasting, feeling. I’ve never had another experience quite like it. Do we ever? After our first time, no matter what it’s the first time of? I’m sure I made mistakes, but she never said. I spent the next five years learning every shape of her body, every mark, every scar, every scent.

I did leave my husband, but not for her.

However, my relationship with her lasted beyond him. I loved her with every fiber of my being, and will always be grateful to her for allowing me to begin my journey with her. For showing me things I never knew possible.

For giving me my first real orgasm. And many more after.

I think, therefore, I write. /Posts may contain affiliate links.

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