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
1. Fancy Meeting You Here - Erin
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.”
2. Can I Get You a Water? - Naomi
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.
“Where’s your place?” she asked in the silence of the night air.
“That’s awfully presumptuous,” I teased, picking a cigarette out from my clutch to bring it to my lips.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she plucked it from my lips, and crushed it between her fingers, scowling at me. “Are you fucking serious with this shit?”
“What?”
“You’re smoking now?! I leave you alone for one minute, and you’re smoking?”
I have to admit, that stung. Albeit the “one minute” had really been a year, but I couldn’t even find it in me to correct her. I didn’t want to start an argument.
I had been in a terrible place when we broke up that past year, and I had quit shortly after starting, but that night my nerves were getting the better of me. I stared at her.
“I quit, actually … you just have this … you make me crazy, okay?” I reached for the cigarette as if I would still smoke it after she’d flattened it. “Hey – give that to me!”
Instead of doing as I asked, she grabbed my clutch away too, and rifled through it. I gasped and reached for my little purse, but she was quicker and stronger. It excited me, remembering just how much stronger she really was. The new strength she’d grown was even more enticing, so I finally stood with my arms crossed as she threw my last two cigarettes out, and down an alleyway. The walk back to me was brisk, and she stared at me as we stood face-to-face. I wanted her to spank me. I could hardly believe my desires in that moment, but I tried not to think of all the things she would do with me, or all the things I wanted to do to her.
“If you quit, then you shouldn’t carry around those nasty things.”
She really cared for me. It was the only reason I didn’t snap back at her. Instead, I walked right up to her and put my hands on my hips. “And how are you gonna stop me? Hmm?”
The look she gave me made my knees weak, but I repositioned my feet, and my heels clicked against the asphalt. It took all of my strength not to push her a little further, but as luck would have it, my last tease was all it took.
She grabbed me at the hip, and pulled me so close that our bodies touched. My breath caught at the back of my throat, and before I knew it, she was pressing her lips to mine quite unexpectedly. Her arms were wrapping around me, consuming me. I wanted so badly for her to lay me down – forgetting where we were. Flashes of images flooded through me as she held me close just like she always used to do it. She knew what I liked, and she knew what I needed. I was too enticed to put up an argument. I just wanted her to have me.
Her magnetism to me alw
ays was always astounding, and in that moment it overwhelmed me. I could feel her needing me, and it was unbearable to pull away, so I sank my fingers into her thick hair and inhaled against her cheek. I thought of how she moaned when I touched her, and I smiled against her lips. Her hands were impatient with me, and I always liked that about her – she couldn’t seem to wait to have me. It was just like old times, and I was getting a little impatient myself.
Thankfully, Erin was very adept at finding a cab, and we both eagerly climbed inside.
“Where do you live?” she whispered, putting her hand on my knee as I looked over at her.
“No … your place.”
“You don’t wanna come over to my place,” she grinned, stealing a kiss that left me very frustrated. “It’s a mess … you hate mess.”
I licked my lips and leaned back to give myself a moment to think. “Your place … I’d really prefer your place … please.”
It wasn’t difficult to talk her into anything at that point – she was giving the cabbie her information before she even answered me. Her hands were braced on her own knees as she spoke to the driver, and I stared at each finger with desire. Those hands had done just about everything to me at one point or another, and they held a sort of power over me I didn’t even fully understand. All I could do was stare at them obsessively.
Her laughter told me she’d caught my obvious affection. Finally, I pulled my eyes up to hers, and she leaned back on the seat. “I don’t think you’re ready for this …”
“Fuck off,” I whispered lightly, keeping my knees together as I looked out the window. It wasn’t altogether purposeful, but I knew that it drove her crazy when I kept my knees together because I was always spreading them for her in our bed. She loved the contrast.
Intentional or not, it drove her wild all over again.
“Naomi …”
It was the last remnant of a conversation until we reached her place and she practically threw her money to the man behind the wheel, flying out to help me into her apartment. As silly as it may have seemed, I always fell for her romantic gestures – as outdated as they might have been. It always warmed me to take her arm and to have her open the door for me. It warmed me a little more to have her panting on top of me, but I tried to empty those thoughts from my mind for the time being. I tried to act as ladylike as possible, even in the elevator where the silence was killing us both.
Tangled with Lust: A Life Changing Lesbian Experience Page 1