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There were times I’d rather not have gone, but I didn’t really have much choice. I’ve been to many foreign lands; America, Japan, Germany, France, and even Russia.
I was lucky in a way, and my partners never distrusted me while I was away with my boss. I wasn’t going to get up to any infidelity, for two reasons. My boss, at that time, was in his late fifties, (way too old for my tastes), and had a rather attractive boyfriend of his own, many years younger than he was. As I said to Joanna, "I don’t do boys any more, and he’s never done girls, so that reduces the chances of adultery to just about zero," although she never doubted my commitment to her. Joanna always trusted me to be faithful to her, and I always have been.
I guess that my parents are just broader minded people, content to accept whoever I love and whoever makes me happy. They’ve even started to jokingly refer to Joanna as my wife. I was a little surprised to hear them invite me to a family meal and instruct me to "bring the wife with you."
Joanna was over the moon with that, because it meant that she’d been accepted by my family, in a way that her own either wouldn’t, or couldn’t, accept her. My parents can’t understand Joanna’s parents’ inability to accept her for what she is, because there’s no point in trying to change her. If being in a relationship with another woman is what makes her happy, then let her be happy.
My brother, who had been making ‘lemon’ jokes, for a few weeks beforehand, was staring daggers at me all night, because he was jealous of the young beauty that was quite willing to share my bed, when the time was right. Then again, considering some of the dogs he’s pulled in his time, it wasn’t exactly any surprise. Some of them were so ugly, the only reason he could possibly want anything to do with them, was that they were dirty slags after casual sex. That was often what I told him he was as well; ‘a dirty little blonde slapper,’ and he is too. He’s always been the sort to chase anything in a skirt, and probably always will. The old joke ‘A fanny and a pulse; and the pulse is entirely optional,’ certainly applies to him, because he will screw literally anything in a skirt, between the ages of sixteen and sixty.
I hope for his sake that he stays away from Scotland! Even the blokes up there wear skirts more than I do. Whenever I’m in a relationship, I always wear trousers to work, to hide my legs. Joanna has always said that I have the most gorgeous legs she’s ever seen, and she asked me why I hide them from blokes’ eyes. I’ve never really figured out why I do that, but it’s become a way for guys at work to tell that I’m not available, and it’s also an old habit.
My brother often used the family name as a tool in trying to pull; seeing as it is an old aristocratic name, indicative of breeding, money and influence. Most of the time, it didn’t work. I used other methods. A pretty face, long blonde hair, a nice, shapely arse in a short skirt, and a pair of thirty eight inch tits in a short, tight top, and no bra, were far more effective at grabbing the attentions of the opposite sex, although I never fooled around on the first date. Blokes had to work to get me into bed, but sooner or later, I went, and I had my fun with them. None of them ever complained that I was a poor lay, and neither did my only girlfriend.
I was never unattractive, but I’m not up to Joanna’s standards of beauty; not that it bothers her. In fact, she doesn’t like the attention she gets because of her looks, and her petite, hourglass figure, but she’s just going to have to accept the fact that she is going to get the attention, whether she likes it or not; what with her forty inch tits in their DD cups, twenty-four inch waist and thirty-eight inch hips; and the fact that she is simply downright, drop-dead, gorgeous. Blokes are going to be attracted to her looks and that is all there is to it, as are a few women as well. Such is the downside to being truly beautiful.
When Joanna turned twenty-one, I took her shopping for a present suitable for her birthday. I also took her to the local office of social services and we registered ourselves as volunteering to adopt a child. As we’d only been together for three years, they were reluctant, but Joanna gave them a little more to go on. "We’ve actually been together a year and a half longer than that, but we had to sleep in separate beds due to my age. Isn’t four and a half years enough to develop a loving relationship, to raise an abandoned, neglected, or abused child in? I was adopted myself, so I know how it feels to be raised by people who aren’t your own family. When I told them that I was a lesbian, they disowned me, and I intend to do better than that!"
After almost nineteen months, our names came to the top of the adoption list, and we adopted a little baby girl, Daniela, only a few weeks old. She’d been abandoned by her mother in a hospital car park on a summer’s night, with a note explaining things. Seeing as her mother wasn’t traced, she went into the adoption program, and came to us. Now we are parents, and it still feels a little funny to me. We vowed to ourselves that we would be good parents.
Danni grew up with us and started to address Joanna as "mummy," and that was wonderful to hear. Yet again, little Miss. Sensitive Soul broke down into tears when that happened. Obviously, Danni will have to be told the truth at some point, and that’ll be rather hard for us to do, I think, but we’ll have to do it. It’ll only be fair to her after all to tell her the truth; that mummy isn’t mummy.
Joanna is a first class mother; no doubt about that. She took to the role like a duck to water. Whenever Danni woke up in the middle of the night in need of changing, or wanting feeding, Joanna was there; no complaints, or curses. She wouldn’t let me do anything at times like that; "Get some sleep baby, you’re the worker. I’m the mother of the two of us, and this is my responsibility," was the sort of thing she’d say to me if I volunteered to help, or take over from her, so I stopped volunteering.
One day I remember in particular. Joanna was in the shower and Danni started to cry. I did all that I could think of but I couldn’t get her to settle. She didn’t need changing, and she didn’t want feeding, so I was unable to figure out what to do. After a few minutes, Joanna walked into the room and said, "It’s ok baby-kins, mummy’s here now." By the time she picked Danni out of my arms, and rested her in the crook of her right arm, the screaming baby was silent!
When little Danni started school, Joanna went back to college and retook the exams she didn’t seem particularly bothered about at school, and didn’t do particularly well at. With motivation and encouragement, her results at the end of the year were substantially better than they were at school, and in between the start and finish of the college year, Joanna broke a couple of hearts because she was spoken for.
Her A-levels followed, she did well on those too. She wants to go to university soon, and get more qualifications, and meet more people. She didn’t have many friends when I met her, but now she’s doing far better at being outgoing, even if most of her friends from college are noticeably younger than she is. She is the group’s matriarch due to her age, and even she finds that to be funny.
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