all started with voice mail box number 8024. I was lonely and feeling very
hollowed out inside; yet another relationship had just ended for me. We'd
been friends for a year and dated for four months. I'd been falling in
love with this man and I'd no clue whatsoever that he did not share my
feelings. He told me he was happy. He told me how thrilled he was to have
finally found someone as special as me. Then all of a sudden, one Friday
night at the end of a date, he told me that he wasn't ready for a commitment,
he was not ready to move forward with a relationship at this time. What
could I say?
Two weeks went by, then three, and very soon a month had gone by. I had my work to keep me busy. Both my family as well as my friends were being extremely supportive. I even put myself on a self-improvement plan. I started frequenting the gym even more than I had before the breakup. Before long I had really toned up and had lost ten pounds. I looked at my body in my full-length mirror, naked. I cupped my breasts and gazed at myself from every imaginable angle. Wow, I was looking good! I even splurged on some new additions for my wardrobe. I was trying to break out of a mould, start anew.
Deep down in that secret place in my heart I knew that I was trying to expunge him from my memory. I was trying to forget the feel of his lips on mine; the touch of his hand; the tender way he had looked at me. I think in particular I was trying to forget the words he had spoken to me. They were words that I felt certain now had been false words. They were words that had been spoken out of convenience, or convention, or perhaps even cruelty, not words of caring and truth.
One day I was reading the classifieds section in the local paper on my lunch hour as I finished my Caesar salad. I remembered my friend Harley telling me a few years back that some one she knew had suggested taking out her own ad to meet some new men. She had asked me what I had thought about it. At the time I had told her that I didn't think it was such a good idea. "You might get some responses from weirdoes." I had said. "Just be patient Harley," I recall saying,"you'll meet the right man when the time is right." Yeah right, what a cliché! She looked as skeptical as I had felt. That was five years ago and she was still without a steady man in her life.
Some of the ads I laughed about, and others I was appalled by. One in particular kept drawing my attention again and again, why I could not comprehend. It was of all things under the heading, "Women Seeking Women". Women seeking women- WHAT!!!!! I had never in my thirty years of life ever been even remotely interested in another woman. What was going on with me? Was I losing my mind? Was I going completely insane?
I read it over a couple of times. The ad stated that she was twenty-seven years old, a bi-female, attractive and slim. I read on. She was looking for a woman who was very feminine, sensitive, intelligent, and had a kind and loving heart. So far I fit the description perfectly. She was looking for a woman to share quiet, discreet times with as well as good conversation. She enjoyed reading and music. This person sounded as if she'd put a great deal of thought into her ad. The line that really caught my eye was when she said that she "loved soft touching as well as private massages". I smiled to myself and let my mind wander. It was not a dirty, perverse image that came to mind, but a beautiful one of two attractive and erotic women, naked on a bed touching and loving each other tenderly. I wondered if as a bisexual female she preferred one sex to the other? What were her experiences, I pondered. Had she been hurt so badly by men that she had decided to try the other side? Is this where her bisexuality first took its roots? What was her story?
My lunch hour was over and I had to go back to work, but I kept that tender image of two women together loving each other with me the rest of the afternoon. What was her name, I wondered as I worked? What had brought her to the point in her life where she had decided to take an ad out like that, so intimate and personal, in the newspaper? Had pain taken its toll on her as it had on me? Was a woman's kiss more welcome than a man's because of all she had suffered? Was there more tenderness and emotion in a woman's kiss? Could the unspoken message in the eyes a moment before the lips meet be trustworthier, more sincere than a man's? This I speculated about but I did not know. But she did.
I drove home as I always did but decided today to tune into the radio station that played nothing but romantic songs and sweet melodies. I was not in the mood for rock songs or even the world news but instead wanted to languish in my thoughts of her, my voice personal lady. What was her name? What did she look like? Her ad said that she was attractive and slim. Was she blonde like me, I mused, or perhaps a brunette, or maybe even a fiery redhead? Were her eyes blue, like mine, or perhaps brown or green? Was she tall, medium height or petite? Her ad did not mention height at all. What was her body like? Was it angular or athletic or curvaceous, like mine? What would it be like to kiss a woman, not just a peck on the cheek but to really kiss a woman? Would it seem unusual or unnatural or would it be the easiest and most beautiful experience in the world? The question was could I ever really imagine myself kissing a woman. I mean me, who had always been heterosexual extraordinare all the way, finding myself attracted to lots of men over the years? Could I really imagine it? I was not sure but the images swirling through my head screamed an absolute affirmative.
Touching a woman would have to be different than touching a man. Women seem to appreciate touch more. Women seem to like to be held and caressed more than men do. It would be more about need than about want or lust, or so I suspected. Tasting a woman would be a new experience. That I could not quite envision. But hadn't I had boyfriends in the past that had tasted my specialness and then immediately afterwards brought their heads back up to mine and kissed me deeply? Certainly it was at those times that I had tasted my own essence. The essence of a woman was not a disgusting thing, but something amazing and beautiful.
By the time I got home, my body was tingling with sensations. I was awash with new observations and insights about myself. After preparing a quick supper for myself I sat down at my table and entertained more tempting thoughts of her and me. We were both naked and she was sucking on my left nipple and then my right. It felt soooo good! Her hands were going everywhere at once: up and down my shoulders, back down to cup my buttocks and bring me closer to her wanton form. She continued to suck and her hands continued to move. I touched her in unison and she moaned a very soft moan. It was glorious!! Her hands moved down my breasts, over my stomach and down into my specialness. She gently coaxed me to open my legs wider and I did as she requested. I felt her fingers inside of me and then at last she found that important spot.
"OHHHHHHHH," I cried as she seduced me with her finger, "Please don't stop!" My brain cried out, PLEASE DON'T STOP!"
Jolting myself back into reality as I had almost spilled my entire plate of food in the floor, I pushed myself away from the table. I tried to compose myself. My cat Cherub looked at me oddly. I had to hear her voice I decided! I needed to have a voice at least to put to the fantasy unraveling in my head. I snatched up the paper that I had been reading at lunchtime and flipped to the page where her ad was. With shaky fingers I dialed the voice personal line and punched in the proper code for her- 8024. I closed my eyes and waited.
The message began with a beautiful piece of music that I had not heard before. What an incredible person this lady was!! And then her voice at last, oh her voice!! My senses were humming. At the end of the message she said almost in a whisper, "Hope to hear from you soon. Take care." OHHHH I thought, could it be that I was turned on by thoughts of a woman, this woman? Could it be? Was it possible?! I listened to her message several times. I began to touch myself ever so gently. That voice, it sounded so caring and welcoming. I wanted her. I knew this almost for a certainty. But still something in my brain screamed a message that I was not entirely ready.
I hung up the phone and went down the hallway to my bedroom to finish what I had started in the kitchen. I did not feel so alone and empty anymore. Could this actually be me wanting the kiss, the touch, of another woman? Or was it just the comfort and security that I craved? I cried a low, soft moan as I climaxed alone on my bed. Perhaps I needed to do some more soul searching I thought. Perhaps I needed to give the voice personal lady a face, a name. Perhaps we should meet. I was still undecided. Perhaps, perhaps Life was full of so many different paths to take. I knew I would find mine eventually. Maybe it would be sooner than I realized. I smiled. What an unusual seduction this had been. Maybe I could have the last laugh after all.
Copyright © 2001
Anika Logan. All Rights Reserved.
About The Author:
Anika Logan was born and raised in Atlantic Canada and currently resides in Halifax, Nova Scotia. She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in psychology and a diploma in Fitness and Nutrition. Anika admits to having tried her hand at a variety of jobs since finishing school. Her real passion in life however is her writing. Having always enjoyed writing growing up, Anika only began writing seriously in 1999 when the end of a relationship found her wanting to express herself on paper.
She has published three poems on the internet, "Black Hole of Our Existence" and "I Punish Myself" at www.widethinker.com and "Life" at the Sidewalk's End E-Zine. She turned to writing erotica as its a subject that fascinates her more than any other. She recently became a member of ERA and is pleased to have found a community of like minded individuals to share her thoughts and stories with.
Besides writing Anika is an avid animal lover with three cats of her own. She loves to read and play tennis and practices both yoga and meditation on a regular basis.
I wanted to reach out to others by writing this story as I feel that my thoughts and experiences are not that different from everyone else's. If the end of a relationship with a man could evoke feelings of bi-curiousity in me then might it also in other women as well? This is what I wanted to explore in "An Unusual Seduction". I enjoyed writing this story and my healing process definitely began to take place after the first few sentences were written."
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