Tangled with Lust: A Life Changing Lesbian Experience

Tangled with Lust

A Life Changing Lesbian Experience

by Jennifer Jagger

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder. Copyright © 2013

Table of Contents
 

1. Fancy Meeting You Here - Erin

2. Can I Get You a Water? - Naomi

3. Why Can’t I Stop Wanting You? - Erin

4. I Like to Make You Work For It - Naomi

5. About The Author

6. A Last minute word from Jennifer Jagger

7. More From The Author

Through the smoke and crowds of people, she saw me. I was in a seedy bar one night when I saw her enter, and I couldn’t believe it – she never went to places like that. I’d been hanging out in the run-down place with friends of mine, just playing pool for a girls’ night out when in walks the one woman I thought I’d never see again. It was difficult just watching that arrogant way she sauntered over to the counter, but I must admit that in the dress she was wearing, I think she had reason for her over-confidence. At the time, I rolled my eyes at my friends and took another long sip of beer to help me to ignore her presence at the bar.

And then she spoke.

“Are you kidding me?”

I whipped around to the voice I’d known all too well. I was holding up two beer bottles just as she’d tapped me on my shoulder. I didn’t know what to say, so I feigned surprise: “Uhh … fancy meeting
you
here.”

She was not pleased. I remember her staring at me as she flicked her tongue against her teeth in the habitual way she had always done it. I just smirked and turned away from her.

Of course, she interrupted me again as I turned back to my friends.

“Did you find out I was meeting someone here? Is that on your … your ex-radar, or what?”

Oh, I didn’t mention she’s my ex? Well, allow me to elaborate: we were a very explosive duo, she and I. We fought and made up with much the same passion, and we did both with excellence.

I had to calm myself before responding, so I took a moment as my friends all gestured for me to leave it well enough alone. They knew our arguments.

“I used to be your wife – now you can’t even face me?”

Right. Ex-
wife
. You see, it’s not that I really forgot, but it’s just nice to let these things unravel themselves. As I looked to her then, that was exactly where my mind had settled: unravelling. In that dress she wore, all I could think about was the way she would unravel herself to me when she was excited for it. Those exquisite breasts would always find their way out of her dress, and into my hands. They always fit so perfectly, too.

Looking at her in that bar, I cleared my throat, and made sure to look her in the eyes. She wasn’t about to get the upper hand, I reminded myself.

We went to the front of the bar together to talk, at my insistence. It wasn’t worth causing a scene over one of our little spats. That feminine woman always could torment me, but I made sure to keep my eyes on the alcohol selection as we each took a stool and leaned onto the counter.

“I’ll have another Corona, and the uh … the lady will have a Brandy Alexander.”

The bartender gave us one look, and then went to mixing our drinks as my ex  looked at me – Naomi. Her green eyes were so bright and fiery that I was glad for my seat. Her hair was lighter than I remembered it, but was dark just the same. It was a sort of plain brown that shone in the simplest way, hanging straight down past her shoulders to her abdomen.

I hadn’t said Naomi’s name for a long time before that night. We had been divorced for just about a year, and we’d kept well enough away from one another for the entire duration. The details of our issues would make for a really great encyclopedia, but the simple answer is that I kissed another woman while Naomi and I were still married.

Granted, one might not imagine that to be grounds for arguments day and night until it escalated into bickering and long-winded chases all over the city, but alas
one
is not Naomi. Thank God for that, because that woman is one hell of a firecracker. I don’t think the average person could take her sass and her well-crafted, intelligent arguments. She always was smart and beautiful – a toxic combination to a woman like myself, falling easily for such attractive qualities.

We had been together back in college, and we were each other’s firsts. I had been confused about my sexuality, and Naomi had cleared all of that up for me with her beauty and poise. I had discovered my love for women through Naomi, who was my friend at the time. However, we started seeing each other shortly after my confession to her, and her acceptance of me. Apparently, she had known for some time, but both of us were new to the sizzling electricity between us.

With our drinks in hand, I could see that she’d settled down considerably from the violent reaction we’d had to each other since our divorce. I don’t know why, but I just had to tease her. “Meems?”

She tilted her perfect chin to watch me, and I tried to hold back my smile.

“Looks like that anger management’s going well.”

To my surprise, she laughed! She just took a big sip of her drink, looked down into it, and kept the light tone of laughter in her voice. “If it weren’t going well, we’d have left already.”

“You know, you never had a problem before me,” I insisted, throwing a glance back to my friends to signal I was still alive and kicking. They signaled for me to escape and save myself, but I just waved them off and focused on Naomi again.

“Yeah, well … I kind of lost my mind.”

I couldn’t believe it! She was talking to me like anyone would talk to anyone else. She wasn’t yelling at me or crying or blaming me for anything. She was just sitting there like a perfect lady, reminding me of the contrast from the past to the present.

Sweet, innocent Naomi – at least she appeared that way to others, but I always knew the truth. I knew what she liked, and just how roughly she had always wanted it. I knew all the secrets she kept, and that woman was no saint. My lips curled of their own volition as I remembered back to times when she was tied up underneath me – flashes of her tangled hair lingering in my mind for just a moment too long. She had taken notice of my distraction.

“What’s wrong with you?” she taunted, hiding her smile much better than I ever could hide mine. She was so composed that I was jealous, but I didn’t say a word. I just sat there with her even after we’d finished our drinks, sitting side-by-side in relative silence.

At last, she spoke again: “Well, I guess I my date stood me up. Great.”

“Yeah, they just took one look and ran off,” I grinned, taking a healthy sip from my bottle with a smug expression I knew affected her. She knew the humor in my words because I had always been so attracted to her that I couldn’t resist.

“You’re a real piece of work,” she smiled.

Naomi has this way of smiling that just melts you, and she melted me then. She was so sincere and so playful that I couldn’t even have left if I had wanted to go.

My friends offered to stay and mediate between us, but I told them Naomi and I just wanted to talk things out. “No explosions,” I promised them. Finally, as the night drew long, they left me to my own devices. That probably wasn’t wise, but of course they couldn’t have known. All that time apart from Naomi had left a void. No one had ever kissed me the way she kissed me. No other woman’s fingers could tease me like hers, and I had
never
seen a woman as beautiful in any sense of the word. I knew that she could drive me crazy with anger or frustration, but we simply did that to one another.

Her breathing was labored after I’d laughed and rested my hand on her thigh. I really hadn’t meant anything by it, but when she looked at me, my breath caught in my throat. I knew that look.

“Anything else?” the bartender interrupted, throwing a small towel over her shoulder.

I knew I should have taken my hand back, but I wasn’t ready.
What if she wants it there?
I had to wonder. What if she wanted more? I swallowed hard, my eyes scanning over the dress she’d worn to meet the other woman for her blind date. What an idiot that woman must have been.

If I walked into a bar, saw a gorgeous woman waiting for me with a mini-dress and heels, I sure as hell wouldn’t turn around and leave. It may be because I have always preferred really femme women, but I believe Naomi set that standard for me, all that time ago. We met in college, and we could never just be friends. There was always so much chemistry between us that hanging out was awkward.

Sitting there in that barstool, with my hand still rested on her bare leg, I realized something: what if she’d been angry with me all that time because she didn’t want to want me? I pressed my fingers a little harder at the thought, and she dropped her head.
Oh, lord help me,
I thought,
if she wants this as much as I do …

“Tell me I’m not just imagining this,” I said aloud, surprising even myself.

With only one drink in her, I knew she wasn’t drunk. She was well aware of what she was doing to me when she turned and looked at me as if she were naïve to the sexual tension between us. That damned look had always made me weak.

“Imagining what?” Yeah, she knew what she was doing.

My fingers very slowly and gently traced up her thigh, just to tease her. Her thighs were always very sensitive – even ticklish – and she squirmed on the barstool with her eyes pleading.

I quickly brought my hands back into my lap, straightening out my long-sleeved button-up shirt as if clothing were my biggest distraction. To be honest, I was trying to keep us from possibly making a huge mistake, as impossible as it was to deny Naomi. From time-to-time, I still thought of her as I touched myself, and we had had a volatile break-up, so I think that speaks to her power over me.

I would have climbed down onto my knees and begged if she would have told me to do it, but Naomi always had more control when it came to withholding from sex. When she broke, however, it was fun to watch her crumble.

Clearing my throat again was the only way I could maintain any sense of logic without slapping myself. I wanted her to slap me. I wanted her to tease me enough so that I could snap and show her what she’d been missing all that time. I wanted anything to happen to give me the excuse to touch her just one more time. I was beginning to re-think that
no explosions
guarantee in a new light.

Great, beautiful Naomi took her clutch from the bar, and slipped off the stool in a way so graceful that all I could do was stare at her. It reminded me of all the times we’d gone out as a couple, and how she had often been too worked up with lust to stay in any one place too long. She would just tell me it was
on me
, and saunter off to find a cab somewhere. I couldn’t even blink as I watched her then, in that bar. She was trailing off with that sultry sway to her hips when at last, she glanced over her shoulder and grinned.

“That one’s on you.”

I knew I had her under my spell at the bar, but whenever I had started to feel weak around her since our messy break-up, I usually ran. I was livid with Erin for cheating on me about a year and a half ago, and I felt that her kissing that horrible woman
was
cheating on me. It took us all of six months to be unforgivably at each other’s throats, but to be honest … there was something very exciting about having the sort of passion we’d always had. It was painful to be so sad, but as I was sitting in that bar with her, it all came back to me. I couldn’t help but recall the way we used to make up after our nonsense arguments. If I’d been cheeky with her, she certainly taught me a lesson. She found new and interesting ways of doing it, too.

I can’t even explain the thrill I felt at seeing her again that night. Her hair had grown out past her shoulders, ruffled and messy like always, but it was longer. It was blonder than I remembered it, too.

From friends of hers, I’d heard that she was working out to train for the police academy, but that thought had never bothered me before. Sitting across from her at the bar was a different story. Her body was equipped with muscles that hadn’t been visible before in a shirt like that, and she had a sort of confidence about her that wrestled with my own. I don’t think she ever truly understood just how much her touch affected me. When she put her hand on my leg that night, I trembled all over, praying she wouldn’t see.

Of course, that side of me had diminished considerably by the time she paid for our drinks, and chased me out with her hands shoved into her pockets. It was a cool night out, and I imagined how her sensitive nipples were reacting as I feigned interest in cars from down the street.

She approached me from behind, and then stood aside me at the curb. She seemed nervous, and I couldn’t help but smile at that. Only Erin would be nervous when she knew I wanted her. I had no idea how she found ways to be insecure at times when all I ever wanted was her. I guess I wasn’t as direct as she often was – it was one of the things I loved most about her.