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"Elisa, are you sure you want to go tonight? If you're tired, I can go...".
Marco's voice, my husband, came to me from my room while I was in the bathroom getting ready.
"But no. I'm not tired. I'm happy to go."
Yes, and then I let him go out alone with my best friend, Nadia. We were supposed to go to the parents' orientation meeting that the school organized. Our daughter was in eighth grade, and it was time for the first important choice in life; high school.
I had already agreed with Nadia for a week. She would pick me up at 8:30 and we would go to the meeting together.
I would never leave my husband alone with her, not even for five minutes. She was one of the most fascinating women I'd ever seen. She was two years older than me. Thirty-eight she, thirty-six, me. She was six feet tall, about two inches taller than me. She had dark eyes and light-brown hair with a coppery, hypnotic glow. She held them all the way down to under her shoulders and they were smooth as silk.
She had perfect breasts, full and firm. We both wore fourths, and I often found myself trying to figure out whether they were bigger, mine or hers. I knew perfectly well that my husband would not at all disdain the idea of trying to find out by getting closer to her breasts than he had to, and the fact that she had always given herself the image of a sexually uninhibited woman only reinforced my determination. I was going to go that night.
I heard Marco's voice closer. He'd lurked outside the bathroom. "Are you jealous? I'm not touching her."
"Don't be an idiot."
He went on: "And then you know she's a lesbian...".
That was his firm belief. Since we'd met her and her husband, Alessandro, eight years ago now, that was her idea. According to him, Nadia wasn't attracted to men but to women.
I told him my belief: "Just because you don't shit doesn't mean she's a lesbian. It just means she doesn't like you." I opened the door and I saw his eyes: "I'm sorry, my love, but no matter how many fantasies you fantasize, she'll keep looking at men... but not at you". I gave him a light kiss on the lips and closed the door behind me saying: "...you must continue to be content with me...".
I could hear him laughing away.
I detached myself from the memory of his voice and focused on the woman I was seeing in the mirror. "Well," I thought, "Nadia's gonna be hot, but I'm not kidding either."
I was definitely less than my age. And everybody was telling me that. My tits had always attracted men's eyes as much as Nadia's. My hair was black, definitely darker than hers, but my eyes were lighter. I stared at them for a long time in the mirror. It was a shaded brownish brown that reminded me of the colour of hazelnuts, deep and deep. I stepped back and looked at my entire image.
I was satisfied with what I saw, even though I would never admit it to anyone. The short skirt I was wearing highlighted a beautiful pair of legs, made even more attractive by the stilettos I had chosen for the evening. Not that it was weird. When I left home I always wanted to feel supported by a nice pair of heels, and I couldn't help feeling pleasure when I noticed that some man was looking at my feet.
To try to be even more sensual, a couple of years earlier I had had a small heart tattooed on my left ankle, and I was sure that all the men we were seeing, including friends and relatives, looking at that tattoo had given in at least once to a sinful thought.
Yeah, that night, Nadia and I were gonna make a pretty good couple of moms.
We'd known each other since our daughters were in first grade class together. We'd gone through those five years and then the three of us in junior high, always side by side.
We had taken holidays together, New Year's Eve and hundreds of other evenings during which we got to know each other perfectly, even though opinions continued to diverge with my husband. Lesbian, he said; straight, I was convinced.
I finished my make-up just a second before I heard the intercom. I put on a jacket while Marco shouted at me on the other side of the house: "It's her! I told her you're coming down...".
"I'm coming..."
I greeted him quickly and pretended I hadn't heard his line: "Give her a kiss from me...".
Two minutes later I was sitting in Nadia's car, wondering again why we hadn't gone with mine. She may have been hot, but the driving was scary. While she was trying to distract me from her driving by telling me about her husband's latest arguments, I was thinking that men's jokes about women behind the wheel seemed to have been written for her.
"Can you believe it?" she was saying, "he's doing soccer every Thursday night, Sunday mornings at the pool, and as soon as it snows he goes skiing with friends. Does that seem normal to you?"
"Well," I replied, trying to focus on the words and not the pawns unaware of the risk they were taking, "they are men. They have their rounds, and as long as that's what they are, it's even better to leave them without a lot of fuss. After all, it's also a way to keep us a few hours to breathe, isn't it?".
She laughed and as she said, all cheerful: "Yes, that's true..." she put her right hand gently on my knee.
I was paralyzed. It was the first time she touched me like that. I didn't know how to react, and I instinctively stiffened myself. She noticed, because she took one look at my thighs and took her hand away and kept snickering.
I didn't give that gesture any weight, trying to convince myself that it was a normal caress between friends, without complications, but my husband's voice wouldn't stop bouncing from one side of my brain to the other: "lesbian...".
"By the way," he said after a few minutes, "but do you know exactly where we're going?"
"No! Why, don't you?"
"Well, she's gotta be here somewhere, in one of these alleys...", and like it was the most normal thing in the world, she put her right hand on my knee again.
Fuck, what was he doing? I started to feel anxious. I remained silent and paralyzed, while she followed a seemingly meaningless path, randomly turning left or right, but never moving her hand.
I felt her warmth on my skin and was overwhelmed with confused feelings. I was almost about to ask her for clarification, but she anticipated me: "Here it is. It must be that building. I park here."
It was only because of the complexity of the manoeuvre that her right hand returned to the steering wheel, leaving my rationality with a difficult task; she should have convinced me that nothing strange had happened and that stroking her best friend's knee was a normal gesture.
We got out of the car and I found myself watching her put on a dark grey coat, very elegant. There was nothing to say; she was a very beautiful woman. She was wearing a pretty low-cut black shirt. The cut in the middle of the breasts could have been seen perfectly, if it hadn't been for the little shirt she had worn underneath, which was also black and with the upper part worked in lace, so as to leave in the middle of the neckline of the shirt an effect of seeing and not seeing very sexy.
The skirt was also black, and it reached just above the knee, leaving an absolute pleasure to the eye as it descended on the calves with a perfect line, made even more sensual by the dark nylon that covered them.
She, like me, loved walking around in high heels, and that night was no exception. The black, very classic shoes she wore completed her extremely sensual figure.
A woman like that, I thought, was definitely a man-eater. Not a lesbian...
But my husband's words kept turning in my ears, and as we entered the auditorium where the meeting was to take place, I thought it was all his fault, and I got pissed off at him. If he hadn't put that worm in my head, I wouldn't have had to go through all that confusion. If he hadn't spent years trying to convince me that Nadia was a lesbian, I probably wouldn't have given any weight to the touch of her hand on my knee. Yeah, I figured, it was all the fault of that jerk Marco.
The interventions of professors and psychologists who took turns on stage managed to distract me for good, and when the meeting ended I had already forgotten what had happened in the car.
"Well," Nadia told me as soon as we left the auditorium. "Interesting, but in the end they said things we already knew. What do you think?"
"Yes, I think so too."
"Look," she suggested, "it's still early. Why don't we go and have a drink somewhere? For a night we can spend some time without husbands...".
I looked at my watch. It was half past ten. "But yes. Why not? Where are we going?"
"I'll take you to a place I know and it's very nice. Besides, it's near here."
We got in the car and drove off.
Ten minutes later we were walking into a club I hadn't been to. It was called "Martine". Strange name, I thought.
I followed Nadia who seemed to be moving at ease and we went to sit at a corner table at the end of the room. We sat on the same side, she sat on my right, both of us with our backs to the wall and our eyes free to wander through the whole room.
I was looking around a bit when she asked me, "Do you like it?"
I was trying to understand. "Well," I said, "he's very nice, but..." That's when I noticed two guys standing at the counter. They must have been 25, 30 at the most. They were evidently waiting for the bartender to take their order, and they were also evidently kissing passionately. I was paralyzed, and I was awakened by Nadia's voice, "But what?"
I took a better look around and turned to her. I couldn't hide the anxiety she had taken from me. "Fuck, Nadia! But it's a gay club!"
She replied with an Olympic calm, snickering slightly, "So what? You're not gonna have that kind of problem."
My husband's voice ravaged my brain: "She's a lesbian."
He didn't give me time to rationalize my thoughts and continued, "during the two years I lived in Boston I spent in gay clubs. I found that they are better cared for, cleaner, waiters are nicer, and you don't have the flies of men walking around asking if you want a drink. Like drinking is what they're thinking about while they're asking you...".
I tried to stay calm, but it was a futile effort. I looked at her, but I couldn't hear her words. All I could do was wonder if that jerk Marco wasn't really right. I watched her and scrutinized her like I'd never done before, and she noticed.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Is something wrong?"
I tried to pull myself together and I stammered, "No, no... it's okay."
"Ah....you were looking at me so weird... What shall we drink?".
I got a little distracted focusing on the menu and I went back to checking myself as usual. After all, I thought, a modern woman like I wanted to be could have no problem spending time with her best friend in a gay bar.
In the next ten minutes, everything went back to normal. We ordered, two bloody Marys, started drinking and talking about this and that.
Then I asked her a question I immediately regretted, "Do you come here often?"
She answered me calmly, as always, "sometimes. I like this place... and you? Have you ever been in a gay bar?".
It took me a second too long to say, "No, actually, I haven't."
"I like gays. I find them to be particularly sensitive and sensitive people."
He left that phrase in the air like he was expecting me to comment.
I came up with a vague answer, "I don't know. Maybe, but I've met so few of them that...". I couldn't go on and I got stuck in the middle of the sentence. My gaze had casually settled on the table partly at ours. Two women no longer very young, they must have been between forty and fifty, they were kissing softly not more than two meters away from us.
I was paralyzed watching their tongues intertwine and then disappear one into the other's mouth.
Nadia's subdued laughter accompanied my disorientation. "What?" she asked me, "haven't you ever seen two women kiss?"
I mumbled instinctively: "Yes, in some movies... but never live...".
"Whatever." She seemed really surprised.
"What about you?" I wonder why I asked her that question. I'm pretty sure my brain hadn't given any impulse about it.
Her answer didn't take long, "well, several times..."
"Really?"
"It's quite common in America. And if you spend your evenings in some gay club, you end up considering it normal."
We remained silent for a few seconds, as I struggled to take my eyes off those two lesbians who were fondling each other so passionately, to bring them back to Nadia.
It was when her gaze crossed mine, that she asked me with a voice in which I could no longer find the hilarity she had until just before: "have you ever done that?
"Have what?"
"Have you ever kissed a woman?"
A chilblain came down my back, and my eyes couldn't tear away from hers.
"No..."
The chilblain became a shocking shiver when I felt her right hand resting on my left, which I had unwisely left on the table while her voice, which I had never felt so warm, entered me and came straight to my stomach: "Would you like to try?".
I didn't answer. I was too upset. We looked at each other like we'd never looked at each other. I felt my hand go on fire, counting with his, and his gaze go into me, deep inside. And as the certainty was materializing in my head that she was a real fucking dyke, I saw her eyes move slowly but surely towards mine.
I didn't have time to do anything. I didn't get close to her and I didn't even walk away. I was completely stuck.
I saw her eyes ajar and instinctively I did the same, and when I felt her beautiful lips resting gently on mine, it felt like a bomb was exploding inside me.
I couldn't feel anything. The voices and music surrounding us disappeared in an instant, and my head started spinning like crazy. I was shocked by a vortex of conflicting emotions that I couldn't recognize and control.
We stood still for a few moments like this, like the perpetually still image of a photograph. Then I felt her hand take away from mine and, immediately afterwards, come and caress my left cheek.
Never had anyone touched me so gently. I thought she was touching me with a very light feather, and while her lips were not coming off mine, I was crossed by one last rational thought: "fuck, I was kissing my best friend!".
I don't know how long I stayed with her lips on mine, I had completely lost all sense of time, and it was she who interrupted that incredible moment, moving slightly away from me. I had imagined that before she broke away I would feel her tongue go inside me, but it didn't. She pulled away from me as lightly as she had kissed me.
It was only then that I opened my eyes again, and I found myself completely immersed in the depths of his, who were looking at me as no one had ever looked at me before. Then that light of shocking passion that was hypnotizing me disappeared from his gaze, as if by magic.
I watched her move away and sit back down normally, as before, as her fingers left my cheek to twitch on my hand.
We stared at each other in silence for a few more seconds. Then I saw a smile draw on those perfect lips, which mine had just met so closely, and her voice returned to fill the space between us. "Sorry," she whispered to me. "It came to me instinctively. You're so beautiful..."
I couldn't speak. I was still too upset.
He realized my embarrassment and continued, "I didn't want to bother you. I'm sorry."
His apology woke me up. I felt the need to tell her something, to calm her down. I didn't want to give her negative emotions. I needed to see her happy.
"But no..." were the words that came out of my lips a little bit choked up. Then I regained my courage and made myself more confident: "Nadia... don't worry... it's okay...".
He looked down for a moment, then he looked at me again: "no... sorry...".
"Nadia, it's fine, really. I'm a bit embarrassed. I feel like everyone's eyes are on me."
Why did I say that?
She smiled and said, "But if we're in a gay club..." And then she laughed.
The fact that I joined in with her laugh helped ease the tension, but that feeling of calm didn't last long. She let a few seconds pass, caressed my hand lightly and asked me, "haven't you ever thought about making love to a woman?".
I remained hooked on her eyes and let them enter my fantasies: "sometimes...".
He lit up: "But what the hell? I knew that someone like you couldn't be indifferent to the beauty of certain women."
"But why? Have you ever done it?"
He laughed again, and the laughter was confused with his words: "Eli... of course I have...".
I stood in silence watching her. That simple, straightforward confession took my breath away.
She continued, without ever taking her eyes off mine: "I've been sleeping with women for at least ten years. And I can guarantee you that I'm really enjoying it."
"But what about the Ale?"
"What about the Ale. I have sex with him too, of course. I mean, it's not just that I sleep with women. Let's say I go 'also' with women. I'm bi..."
I mumbled, "I never would have said that..."
"Are you shocked?"
I thought about it a bit. "No, no, no, no, it's fine. I just thought you liked men."
"Well, as a matter of fact, I do like men. Let's just say I'm a woman who puts no limits on pleasure."
I let go of my words, which were getting safer. I'd gotten over it, "but if you had to choose between a man and a woman, who would you choose?"
It took him a few seconds and then he replied: "mah, it depends a bit on the moment, but in general I think I would choose the woman.
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. I have to say, a woman can make you enjoy yourself like a man will never be able to."
"That's something I've heard before...".
"...and that sometimes led you to think that all things considered... if the opportunity arose...".
He was smiling at me, and he still hadn't stopped stroking my hand.
We stayed a few long moments watching each other intensely, no longer noticing the world around us. Then his voice came back and struck me in the heart: "Eli... I want to kiss you so badly...".
"Nadia..." I didn't know what to say.
I felt her left hand on my right thigh, under the table. She had started to caress it gently as I searched for words I couldn't find.
"You are beautiful..." she whispered to me.
"I don't know if I'm ready."
"I wish you were."
His hand climbed even higher up my thigh, slipping under my skirt.
"Nadia..."
"Eli... you don't know how many times I've wanted you..."
"Oh, God... I don't know... I'm scared...".
"Of what?"
"I don't know ... it's so strange ...".
"Do you want to go to the bathroom with me?".
His proposal pierced my chest like a knight's spear and I couldn't respond.
He stood up and took me by the hand, pushing me to stand up in turn.
"Oh God, Nadia...".
"Come..." His voice was a whisper and he didn't give me time to reply.
He turned and walked to the toilet, holding my hand. I followed her like a dog follows its owner. I was no longer able to control my legs and my reactions. I couldn't believe what I was doing. I had succumbed to my best friend's advances and was following her into the bathroom, where I still didn't know what would happen, but I knew it would be a shocking experience.
I had made it very clear that I was going to have my first lesbian experience, and I couldn't resist the temptation that was taking hold of me. The light shudder that had surfaced for the first time in my mind had now become an intense jolt that was going through my entire body.
I followed Nadia in silence, letting my eyes get lost in her line. Shit, even from behind, she was a beautiful woman. Her hips, legs and ass were an irresistible call I felt for the first time.
It took a few moments to get to the toilet door, which we entered without hesitation.
There were a couple of taps on the left and three boxes on the right, one in line with the other. There was no one there and she went straight to the last one.
"Let's go in here..." she whispered to me as she pulled me behind her.
When she closed the door behind us, we found ourselves alone in a small, quiet space.
He pushed me gently against the wall, I sank into his eyes and felt the fire on me when he caressed me again on his left cheek.
"Oh, God, Eli... finally...".
I couldn't speak. I was paralyzed.
Every fraction of a second she spent getting close to me burned into my soul. I felt her lips on my right cheek, and her voice just hinted, "you're beautiful."
We looked at each other one last time, and then I felt her on me. She put her left hand behind my back and hugged me, crushing herself on my body. I instinctively put both hands on her shoulders and closed my eyes. I felt her lips on mine and then, a second later, I felt them open slightly.
I knew what would happen, but when it really happened, the blood froze in my veins. I felt his tongue go into my mouth, search, find my tongue and then lose myself on it.
He started moving it slowly on mine, wrapping it, caressing it, and then sucking it and drawing it into his mouth. I let go and surrendered to that sapphic kiss I never thought I'd live.
We kissed for a long time, and it was a deep, warm, intense kiss. I can't remember how many years it's been since I was shocked by such devastating passion.
I plunged into her perfume, sweet and fruity, and I felt a crazy pleasure in feeling her body on me. I lowered my right hand to her left side and let her slide on her back, returning the hug she was giving me. I held her close to me with how much strength I had in my body, while my lips were now completely open, letting my tongue dive continuously into her mouth.
I had her saliva all over me and began to swallow, feeling a shudder of pleasure as I felt her go down my throat and stomach.
I don't know how it happened, but my right hand started going down her body and I found myself touching her ass. I felt it firm and perfect, just as it had always appeared to me, and I began to feel it with strength, with an intense and vulgar gesture that I would not have believed myself capable of doing.
It was at that point that I felt his body detach a few inches from mine and I immediately understood why. He stretched both hands over the buttons on my shirt, which he began to unbutton slowly, starting from above.
I couldn't react and let her do it. A few seconds later she was opening up my shirt completely. She lowered my bra and let my tits pop out in all their gorgeous size.
The thrill that was going through my body became a devastating earthquake when I felt her right hand gently caress my breasts. And when he reached my left nipple, he grabbed it with his forefinger and thumb and squeezed it, at first gently, and then more and more forcefully, until I blew a whimper of pleasure into her mouth: "Oh God... Nadia...".
He broke away from my lips, interrupting the most intense kiss of my life, and reciprocated my sigh: "yes... Eli... I want you so much...". Having said that, he bent over me slightly and began to lick my breast, and when he started to suck my right nipple, I thought I was losing consciousness, so intense was the pleasure he was giving me.
I was so caught by his tongue and the little bites he was giving me, that I didn't notice the movement of his right hand, that it had detached from my left nipple.
I felt her suddenly arrive between my legs with the intensity of a cannonball. She put it firmly on my pussy, standing over my skirt, but she pushed it against me with such passion that it seemed to me that it was getting inside me.
It was only at that moment that rationality took hold of me again. I re-emerged from the deep pleasure I was feeling and I became aware that my best friend was licking my tits and groping between my legs, while I had not yet taken my hand off her ass.
"Fuck, Nadia..." In a split second I decided we had to stop. I put both hands on her shoulders and I gently pulled her away from me.
She barely pulled away from my nipple and planted her dark eyes into mine.
"Oh, God, Eli..." her voice was a whisper. "What is it?"
"Fuck, Nadia... we can't...".
She looked at me with this one stare. "Why not?"
I took a few seconds and tried to get normal breathing. "You're my best friend."
"So what?"
"Fuck... I don't know, Nadia... I don't feel ready...".
Her expression softened into a smile and gave me a light kiss on the lips. She ran her right hand through my hair, stroking my head, and then whispered to me, "Eli, you're beautiful. You turn me on so much. You don't know how many times I've dreamt of making love to you... but if you're not ready, it's okay. I'll wait."
She fixed my bra and slowly pulled my shirt back on, like a mother and daughter.
When she was done, she gave me another kiss on the left cheek. "Let's go," she said, caressing me. "Let's go back to the table."
He took me back to the room, standing in front of me and holding my hand exactly as he had done before. It was only then that I remembered where we were and rationalized in my mind that I had spent the last few minutes making out intensely with that beautiful woman that so many men, including my husband, had longed for.
We returned to our seats and I let myself go for a very long sip of the drink I had found on the table. I couldn't remember what it was, but it had the effect of the water of the oasis into which those who cross the desert dive.
I definitely had a distraught look in my eyes when I found Nadia's eyes again.
She was smiling at me and asked me, "Did you enjoy kissing me?"
I replied instinctively, "fuck, Nadia, yes. I liked it a lot but, sorry I stopped. I really don't feel ready."
"Don't worry about it. I understand. I struggled the first time, too, and it took me a long time to accept the fact that I was a bit of a lesbian. Then gradually, one experience after another, I became more and more aware of the fact that I like pussy a lot... a lot more than cock...", and it burst out in a happy laugh that had the effect of calming me down a little bit.
"Anyway," he continued after a few seconds, "I'm home alone on Friday. "Husband in Rome on business and daughter at her cousin's birthday sleepover. I'll be alone all night...". He took a very deep look at me and concluded the sentence: "if you want to come and visit me and keep me company... we could spend some time together...".
I couldn't help but smile and boffonchiaii: "fuck, Nadia ... I do not know ... I told you. I don't feel ready."
He extended his left hand on my thigh, which he began to caress gently and whispered to me in a tempting devilish tone: "honey, today is Tuesday. You have three days to get ready to be ready...", and he burst into a new, cheerful laugh.
We stayed in the club another 20 minutes or so, and I was overcome by a thousand conflicting emotions. Emotions that in the next three days didn't leave me for a second.
Accept or reject? I hadn't the faintest idea of the decision I was going to make.
Marco's voice, my husband, came to me from my room while I was in the bathroom getting ready.
"But no. I'm not tired. I'm happy to go."
Yes, and then I let him go out alone with my best friend, Nadia. We were supposed to go to the parents' orientation meeting that the school organized. Our daughter was in eighth grade, and it was time for the first important choice in life; high school.
I had already agreed with Nadia for a week. She would pick me up at 8:30 and we would go to the meeting together.
I would never leave my husband alone with her, not even for five minutes. She was one of the most fascinating women I'd ever seen. She was two years older than me. Thirty-eight she, thirty-six, me. She was six feet tall, about two inches taller than me. She had dark eyes and light-brown hair with a coppery, hypnotic glow. She held them all the way down to under her shoulders and they were smooth as silk.
She had perfect breasts, full and firm. We both wore fourths, and I often found myself trying to figure out whether they were bigger, mine or hers. I knew perfectly well that my husband would not at all disdain the idea of trying to find out by getting closer to her breasts than he had to, and the fact that she had always given herself the image of a sexually uninhibited woman only reinforced my determination. I was going to go that night.
I heard Marco's voice closer. He'd lurked outside the bathroom. "Are you jealous? I'm not touching her."
"Don't be an idiot."
He went on: "And then you know she's a lesbian...".
That was his firm belief. Since we'd met her and her husband, Alessandro, eight years ago now, that was her idea. According to him, Nadia wasn't attracted to men but to women.
I told him my belief: "Just because you don't shit doesn't mean she's a lesbian. It just means she doesn't like you." I opened the door and I saw his eyes: "I'm sorry, my love, but no matter how many fantasies you fantasize, she'll keep looking at men... but not at you". I gave him a light kiss on the lips and closed the door behind me saying: "...you must continue to be content with me...".
I could hear him laughing away.
I detached myself from the memory of his voice and focused on the woman I was seeing in the mirror. "Well," I thought, "Nadia's gonna be hot, but I'm not kidding either."
I was definitely less than my age. And everybody was telling me that. My tits had always attracted men's eyes as much as Nadia's. My hair was black, definitely darker than hers, but my eyes were lighter. I stared at them for a long time in the mirror. It was a shaded brownish brown that reminded me of the colour of hazelnuts, deep and deep. I stepped back and looked at my entire image.
I was satisfied with what I saw, even though I would never admit it to anyone. The short skirt I was wearing highlighted a beautiful pair of legs, made even more attractive by the stilettos I had chosen for the evening. Not that it was weird. When I left home I always wanted to feel supported by a nice pair of heels, and I couldn't help feeling pleasure when I noticed that some man was looking at my feet.
To try to be even more sensual, a couple of years earlier I had had a small heart tattooed on my left ankle, and I was sure that all the men we were seeing, including friends and relatives, looking at that tattoo had given in at least once to a sinful thought.
Yeah, that night, Nadia and I were gonna make a pretty good couple of moms.
We'd known each other since our daughters were in first grade class together. We'd gone through those five years and then the three of us in junior high, always side by side.
We had taken holidays together, New Year's Eve and hundreds of other evenings during which we got to know each other perfectly, even though opinions continued to diverge with my husband. Lesbian, he said; straight, I was convinced.
I finished my make-up just a second before I heard the intercom. I put on a jacket while Marco shouted at me on the other side of the house: "It's her! I told her you're coming down...".
"I'm coming..."
I greeted him quickly and pretended I hadn't heard his line: "Give her a kiss from me...".
Two minutes later I was sitting in Nadia's car, wondering again why we hadn't gone with mine. She may have been hot, but the driving was scary. While she was trying to distract me from her driving by telling me about her husband's latest arguments, I was thinking that men's jokes about women behind the wheel seemed to have been written for her.
"Can you believe it?" she was saying, "he's doing soccer every Thursday night, Sunday mornings at the pool, and as soon as it snows he goes skiing with friends. Does that seem normal to you?"
"Well," I replied, trying to focus on the words and not the pawns unaware of the risk they were taking, "they are men. They have their rounds, and as long as that's what they are, it's even better to leave them without a lot of fuss. After all, it's also a way to keep us a few hours to breathe, isn't it?".
She laughed and as she said, all cheerful: "Yes, that's true..." she put her right hand gently on my knee.
I was paralyzed. It was the first time she touched me like that. I didn't know how to react, and I instinctively stiffened myself. She noticed, because she took one look at my thighs and took her hand away and kept snickering.
I didn't give that gesture any weight, trying to convince myself that it was a normal caress between friends, without complications, but my husband's voice wouldn't stop bouncing from one side of my brain to the other: "lesbian...".
"By the way," he said after a few minutes, "but do you know exactly where we're going?"
"No! Why, don't you?"
"Well, she's gotta be here somewhere, in one of these alleys...", and like it was the most normal thing in the world, she put her right hand on my knee again.
Fuck, what was he doing? I started to feel anxious. I remained silent and paralyzed, while she followed a seemingly meaningless path, randomly turning left or right, but never moving her hand.
I felt her warmth on my skin and was overwhelmed with confused feelings. I was almost about to ask her for clarification, but she anticipated me: "Here it is. It must be that building. I park here."
It was only because of the complexity of the manoeuvre that her right hand returned to the steering wheel, leaving my rationality with a difficult task; she should have convinced me that nothing strange had happened and that stroking her best friend's knee was a normal gesture.
We got out of the car and I found myself watching her put on a dark grey coat, very elegant. There was nothing to say; she was a very beautiful woman. She was wearing a pretty low-cut black shirt. The cut in the middle of the breasts could have been seen perfectly, if it hadn't been for the little shirt she had worn underneath, which was also black and with the upper part worked in lace, so as to leave in the middle of the neckline of the shirt an effect of seeing and not seeing very sexy.
The skirt was also black, and it reached just above the knee, leaving an absolute pleasure to the eye as it descended on the calves with a perfect line, made even more sensual by the dark nylon that covered them.
She, like me, loved walking around in high heels, and that night was no exception. The black, very classic shoes she wore completed her extremely sensual figure.
A woman like that, I thought, was definitely a man-eater. Not a lesbian...
But my husband's words kept turning in my ears, and as we entered the auditorium where the meeting was to take place, I thought it was all his fault, and I got pissed off at him. If he hadn't put that worm in my head, I wouldn't have had to go through all that confusion. If he hadn't spent years trying to convince me that Nadia was a lesbian, I probably wouldn't have given any weight to the touch of her hand on my knee. Yeah, I figured, it was all the fault of that jerk Marco.
The interventions of professors and psychologists who took turns on stage managed to distract me for good, and when the meeting ended I had already forgotten what had happened in the car.
"Well," Nadia told me as soon as we left the auditorium. "Interesting, but in the end they said things we already knew. What do you think?"
"Yes, I think so too."
"Look," she suggested, "it's still early. Why don't we go and have a drink somewhere? For a night we can spend some time without husbands...".
I looked at my watch. It was half past ten. "But yes. Why not? Where are we going?"
"I'll take you to a place I know and it's very nice. Besides, it's near here."
We got in the car and drove off.
Ten minutes later we were walking into a club I hadn't been to. It was called "Martine". Strange name, I thought.
I followed Nadia who seemed to be moving at ease and we went to sit at a corner table at the end of the room. We sat on the same side, she sat on my right, both of us with our backs to the wall and our eyes free to wander through the whole room.
I was looking around a bit when she asked me, "Do you like it?"
I was trying to understand. "Well," I said, "he's very nice, but..." That's when I noticed two guys standing at the counter. They must have been 25, 30 at the most. They were evidently waiting for the bartender to take their order, and they were also evidently kissing passionately. I was paralyzed, and I was awakened by Nadia's voice, "But what?"
I took a better look around and turned to her. I couldn't hide the anxiety she had taken from me. "Fuck, Nadia! But it's a gay club!"
She replied with an Olympic calm, snickering slightly, "So what? You're not gonna have that kind of problem."
My husband's voice ravaged my brain: "She's a lesbian."
He didn't give me time to rationalize my thoughts and continued, "during the two years I lived in Boston I spent in gay clubs. I found that they are better cared for, cleaner, waiters are nicer, and you don't have the flies of men walking around asking if you want a drink. Like drinking is what they're thinking about while they're asking you...".
I tried to stay calm, but it was a futile effort. I looked at her, but I couldn't hear her words. All I could do was wonder if that jerk Marco wasn't really right. I watched her and scrutinized her like I'd never done before, and she noticed.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Is something wrong?"
I tried to pull myself together and I stammered, "No, no... it's okay."
"Ah....you were looking at me so weird... What shall we drink?".
I got a little distracted focusing on the menu and I went back to checking myself as usual. After all, I thought, a modern woman like I wanted to be could have no problem spending time with her best friend in a gay bar.
In the next ten minutes, everything went back to normal. We ordered, two bloody Marys, started drinking and talking about this and that.
Then I asked her a question I immediately regretted, "Do you come here often?"
She answered me calmly, as always, "sometimes. I like this place... and you? Have you ever been in a gay bar?".
It took me a second too long to say, "No, actually, I haven't."
"I like gays. I find them to be particularly sensitive and sensitive people."
He left that phrase in the air like he was expecting me to comment.
I came up with a vague answer, "I don't know. Maybe, but I've met so few of them that...". I couldn't go on and I got stuck in the middle of the sentence. My gaze had casually settled on the table partly at ours. Two women no longer very young, they must have been between forty and fifty, they were kissing softly not more than two meters away from us.
I was paralyzed watching their tongues intertwine and then disappear one into the other's mouth.
Nadia's subdued laughter accompanied my disorientation. "What?" she asked me, "haven't you ever seen two women kiss?"
I mumbled instinctively: "Yes, in some movies... but never live...".
"Whatever." She seemed really surprised.
"What about you?" I wonder why I asked her that question. I'm pretty sure my brain hadn't given any impulse about it.
Her answer didn't take long, "well, several times..."
"Really?"
"It's quite common in America. And if you spend your evenings in some gay club, you end up considering it normal."
We remained silent for a few seconds, as I struggled to take my eyes off those two lesbians who were fondling each other so passionately, to bring them back to Nadia.
It was when her gaze crossed mine, that she asked me with a voice in which I could no longer find the hilarity she had until just before: "have you ever done that?
"Have what?"
"Have you ever kissed a woman?"
A chilblain came down my back, and my eyes couldn't tear away from hers.
"No..."
The chilblain became a shocking shiver when I felt her right hand resting on my left, which I had unwisely left on the table while her voice, which I had never felt so warm, entered me and came straight to my stomach: "Would you like to try?".
I didn't answer. I was too upset. We looked at each other like we'd never looked at each other. I felt my hand go on fire, counting with his, and his gaze go into me, deep inside. And as the certainty was materializing in my head that she was a real fucking dyke, I saw her eyes move slowly but surely towards mine.
I didn't have time to do anything. I didn't get close to her and I didn't even walk away. I was completely stuck.
I saw her eyes ajar and instinctively I did the same, and when I felt her beautiful lips resting gently on mine, it felt like a bomb was exploding inside me.
I couldn't feel anything. The voices and music surrounding us disappeared in an instant, and my head started spinning like crazy. I was shocked by a vortex of conflicting emotions that I couldn't recognize and control.
We stood still for a few moments like this, like the perpetually still image of a photograph. Then I felt her hand take away from mine and, immediately afterwards, come and caress my left cheek.
Never had anyone touched me so gently. I thought she was touching me with a very light feather, and while her lips were not coming off mine, I was crossed by one last rational thought: "fuck, I was kissing my best friend!".
I don't know how long I stayed with her lips on mine, I had completely lost all sense of time, and it was she who interrupted that incredible moment, moving slightly away from me. I had imagined that before she broke away I would feel her tongue go inside me, but it didn't. She pulled away from me as lightly as she had kissed me.
It was only then that I opened my eyes again, and I found myself completely immersed in the depths of his, who were looking at me as no one had ever looked at me before. Then that light of shocking passion that was hypnotizing me disappeared from his gaze, as if by magic.
I watched her move away and sit back down normally, as before, as her fingers left my cheek to twitch on my hand.
We stared at each other in silence for a few more seconds. Then I saw a smile draw on those perfect lips, which mine had just met so closely, and her voice returned to fill the space between us. "Sorry," she whispered to me. "It came to me instinctively. You're so beautiful..."
I couldn't speak. I was still too upset.
He realized my embarrassment and continued, "I didn't want to bother you. I'm sorry."
His apology woke me up. I felt the need to tell her something, to calm her down. I didn't want to give her negative emotions. I needed to see her happy.
"But no..." were the words that came out of my lips a little bit choked up. Then I regained my courage and made myself more confident: "Nadia... don't worry... it's okay...".
He looked down for a moment, then he looked at me again: "no... sorry...".
"Nadia, it's fine, really. I'm a bit embarrassed. I feel like everyone's eyes are on me."
Why did I say that?
She smiled and said, "But if we're in a gay club..." And then she laughed.
The fact that I joined in with her laugh helped ease the tension, but that feeling of calm didn't last long. She let a few seconds pass, caressed my hand lightly and asked me, "haven't you ever thought about making love to a woman?".
I remained hooked on her eyes and let them enter my fantasies: "sometimes...".
He lit up: "But what the hell? I knew that someone like you couldn't be indifferent to the beauty of certain women."
"But why? Have you ever done it?"
He laughed again, and the laughter was confused with his words: "Eli... of course I have...".
I stood in silence watching her. That simple, straightforward confession took my breath away.
She continued, without ever taking her eyes off mine: "I've been sleeping with women for at least ten years. And I can guarantee you that I'm really enjoying it."
"But what about the Ale?"
"What about the Ale. I have sex with him too, of course. I mean, it's not just that I sleep with women. Let's say I go 'also' with women. I'm bi..."
I mumbled, "I never would have said that..."
"Are you shocked?"
I thought about it a bit. "No, no, no, no, it's fine. I just thought you liked men."
"Well, as a matter of fact, I do like men. Let's just say I'm a woman who puts no limits on pleasure."
I let go of my words, which were getting safer. I'd gotten over it, "but if you had to choose between a man and a woman, who would you choose?"
It took him a few seconds and then he replied: "mah, it depends a bit on the moment, but in general I think I would choose the woman.
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. I have to say, a woman can make you enjoy yourself like a man will never be able to."
"That's something I've heard before...".
"...and that sometimes led you to think that all things considered... if the opportunity arose...".
He was smiling at me, and he still hadn't stopped stroking my hand.
We stayed a few long moments watching each other intensely, no longer noticing the world around us. Then his voice came back and struck me in the heart: "Eli... I want to kiss you so badly...".
"Nadia..." I didn't know what to say.
I felt her left hand on my right thigh, under the table. She had started to caress it gently as I searched for words I couldn't find.
"You are beautiful..." she whispered to me.
"I don't know if I'm ready."
"I wish you were."
His hand climbed even higher up my thigh, slipping under my skirt.
"Nadia..."
"Eli... you don't know how many times I've wanted you..."
"Oh, God... I don't know... I'm scared...".
"Of what?"
"I don't know ... it's so strange ...".
"Do you want to go to the bathroom with me?".
His proposal pierced my chest like a knight's spear and I couldn't respond.
He stood up and took me by the hand, pushing me to stand up in turn.
"Oh God, Nadia...".
"Come..." His voice was a whisper and he didn't give me time to reply.
He turned and walked to the toilet, holding my hand. I followed her like a dog follows its owner. I was no longer able to control my legs and my reactions. I couldn't believe what I was doing. I had succumbed to my best friend's advances and was following her into the bathroom, where I still didn't know what would happen, but I knew it would be a shocking experience.
I had made it very clear that I was going to have my first lesbian experience, and I couldn't resist the temptation that was taking hold of me. The light shudder that had surfaced for the first time in my mind had now become an intense jolt that was going through my entire body.
I followed Nadia in silence, letting my eyes get lost in her line. Shit, even from behind, she was a beautiful woman. Her hips, legs and ass were an irresistible call I felt for the first time.
It took a few moments to get to the toilet door, which we entered without hesitation.
There were a couple of taps on the left and three boxes on the right, one in line with the other. There was no one there and she went straight to the last one.
"Let's go in here..." she whispered to me as she pulled me behind her.
When she closed the door behind us, we found ourselves alone in a small, quiet space.
He pushed me gently against the wall, I sank into his eyes and felt the fire on me when he caressed me again on his left cheek.
"Oh, God, Eli... finally...".
I couldn't speak. I was paralyzed.
Every fraction of a second she spent getting close to me burned into my soul. I felt her lips on my right cheek, and her voice just hinted, "you're beautiful."
We looked at each other one last time, and then I felt her on me. She put her left hand behind my back and hugged me, crushing herself on my body. I instinctively put both hands on her shoulders and closed my eyes. I felt her lips on mine and then, a second later, I felt them open slightly.
I knew what would happen, but when it really happened, the blood froze in my veins. I felt his tongue go into my mouth, search, find my tongue and then lose myself on it.
He started moving it slowly on mine, wrapping it, caressing it, and then sucking it and drawing it into his mouth. I let go and surrendered to that sapphic kiss I never thought I'd live.
We kissed for a long time, and it was a deep, warm, intense kiss. I can't remember how many years it's been since I was shocked by such devastating passion.
I plunged into her perfume, sweet and fruity, and I felt a crazy pleasure in feeling her body on me. I lowered my right hand to her left side and let her slide on her back, returning the hug she was giving me. I held her close to me with how much strength I had in my body, while my lips were now completely open, letting my tongue dive continuously into her mouth.
I had her saliva all over me and began to swallow, feeling a shudder of pleasure as I felt her go down my throat and stomach.
I don't know how it happened, but my right hand started going down her body and I found myself touching her ass. I felt it firm and perfect, just as it had always appeared to me, and I began to feel it with strength, with an intense and vulgar gesture that I would not have believed myself capable of doing.
It was at that point that I felt his body detach a few inches from mine and I immediately understood why. He stretched both hands over the buttons on my shirt, which he began to unbutton slowly, starting from above.
I couldn't react and let her do it. A few seconds later she was opening up my shirt completely. She lowered my bra and let my tits pop out in all their gorgeous size.
The thrill that was going through my body became a devastating earthquake when I felt her right hand gently caress my breasts. And when he reached my left nipple, he grabbed it with his forefinger and thumb and squeezed it, at first gently, and then more and more forcefully, until I blew a whimper of pleasure into her mouth: "Oh God... Nadia...".
He broke away from my lips, interrupting the most intense kiss of my life, and reciprocated my sigh: "yes... Eli... I want you so much...". Having said that, he bent over me slightly and began to lick my breast, and when he started to suck my right nipple, I thought I was losing consciousness, so intense was the pleasure he was giving me.
I was so caught by his tongue and the little bites he was giving me, that I didn't notice the movement of his right hand, that it had detached from my left nipple.
I felt her suddenly arrive between my legs with the intensity of a cannonball. She put it firmly on my pussy, standing over my skirt, but she pushed it against me with such passion that it seemed to me that it was getting inside me.
It was only at that moment that rationality took hold of me again. I re-emerged from the deep pleasure I was feeling and I became aware that my best friend was licking my tits and groping between my legs, while I had not yet taken my hand off her ass.
"Fuck, Nadia..." In a split second I decided we had to stop. I put both hands on her shoulders and I gently pulled her away from me.
She barely pulled away from my nipple and planted her dark eyes into mine.
"Oh, God, Eli..." her voice was a whisper. "What is it?"
"Fuck, Nadia... we can't...".
She looked at me with this one stare. "Why not?"
I took a few seconds and tried to get normal breathing. "You're my best friend."
"So what?"
"Fuck... I don't know, Nadia... I don't feel ready...".
Her expression softened into a smile and gave me a light kiss on the lips. She ran her right hand through my hair, stroking my head, and then whispered to me, "Eli, you're beautiful. You turn me on so much. You don't know how many times I've dreamt of making love to you... but if you're not ready, it's okay. I'll wait."
She fixed my bra and slowly pulled my shirt back on, like a mother and daughter.
When she was done, she gave me another kiss on the left cheek. "Let's go," she said, caressing me. "Let's go back to the table."
He took me back to the room, standing in front of me and holding my hand exactly as he had done before. It was only then that I remembered where we were and rationalized in my mind that I had spent the last few minutes making out intensely with that beautiful woman that so many men, including my husband, had longed for.
We returned to our seats and I let myself go for a very long sip of the drink I had found on the table. I couldn't remember what it was, but it had the effect of the water of the oasis into which those who cross the desert dive.
I definitely had a distraught look in my eyes when I found Nadia's eyes again.
She was smiling at me and asked me, "Did you enjoy kissing me?"
I replied instinctively, "fuck, Nadia, yes. I liked it a lot but, sorry I stopped. I really don't feel ready."
"Don't worry about it. I understand. I struggled the first time, too, and it took me a long time to accept the fact that I was a bit of a lesbian. Then gradually, one experience after another, I became more and more aware of the fact that I like pussy a lot... a lot more than cock...", and it burst out in a happy laugh that had the effect of calming me down a little bit.
"Anyway," he continued after a few seconds, "I'm home alone on Friday. "Husband in Rome on business and daughter at her cousin's birthday sleepover. I'll be alone all night...". He took a very deep look at me and concluded the sentence: "if you want to come and visit me and keep me company... we could spend some time together...".
I couldn't help but smile and boffonchiaii: "fuck, Nadia ... I do not know ... I told you. I don't feel ready."
He extended his left hand on my thigh, which he began to caress gently and whispered to me in a tempting devilish tone: "honey, today is Tuesday. You have three days to get ready to be ready...", and he burst into a new, cheerful laugh.
We stayed in the club another 20 minutes or so, and I was overcome by a thousand conflicting emotions. Emotions that in the next three days didn't leave me for a second.
Accept or reject? I hadn't the faintest idea of the decision I was going to make.
