A kiss! What is a kiss? It seems so innocent and yet!
We do it all the time. We kiss our children or parents, our siblings, family members, friends, even work colleagues. Sometimes we can even kiss strangers when greeting them. A kiss is something innocent. A form of greeting. The simple brushing of your lips against another persons or against their cheek. That is the innocent kiss, but there is another sort. The kiss between two lovers. Or the kiss that starts a love affair.
A kiss that presages pure lust. An invitation to sex; the beginnings of sex between you; part of sexual abandon and loss of control. The sort of kiss that starts slowly. Building from simple lips touching to mouths opening, tongues entwining, almost eating each other in desire and passion, all control and thoughts of outcomes and consequences forgotten.
That’s what started this tale. The simple, innocent pressing of two pairs of lips together. Causing fire to ignite between two unexpecting people. That, in the end, left two families devastated and ripped apart. And two people madly in love and ridden with guilt at all the pain and suffering they were causing to those innocent people they also loved.
A kiss that started all so innocently. A kiss that is by chance, unplanned or even as part of a dare!
So yes, it started with a kiss, a simple kiss that changed my life. A kiss that started out as a dare.
I was part of a hen party taking place a few weeks before the wedding date. There were about thirty of us. Ranging from the bride to be and her friends, all in their early twenties. To her mother and her friends, like me, who had just turned forty.
We were in a restricted VIP area of the night club of the hotel we were staying at. It had been reserved exclusively for us for the night. It was obvious what we were, a group of women, well on the way to getting drunk and out for a good time. All innocent so far.
We were loud and raucous, boisterous but not rowdy. We were issuing dares to each other. Items of clothing were being removed. We were dancing with the men in the club, getting up close and very personal, but never going too far. Fortunately, the men realised what the score was. And they played along, dancing, happy to cop a quick feel of boob or bum if they could, and the woman was willing, or a kiss, but nothing more than that.
Some, mainly the younger ones, but not only them, would go as far as they dared. No, most did that, pressing against the lucky guy. Some even let the guy snog them, but not me. I was staying nice and quiet in the background. Keeping away from the more exuberant happenings, singing along to the music and getting enough booze onboard me to make me feel happy and glowing, feeling nice and mellow. After all, I was happily married with two teenage kids.
The only thing that got a bit out of hand was when two of the future bridesmaids pounced on a young guy they had invited into our area, which was against all our rules. That was our haven, our safe place, and gave him a blow job under the table, but they were young and single, so they weren’t cheating on anyone. And they were cheered on by all of us. Not something that would have happened in my day but hey.
Now I’m not a prude and never have been. I wasn’t exactly promiscuous during my youth, but no saint either. I’d had plenty of sex and with plenty of partners. I didn’t put out on the first date, but after I finally lost my virginity, then, most times when a guy dated me, he didn’t go home frustrated. Now let me make one thing clear, I didn’t do sympathy dates either. I only dated guys who I really liked. Sometimes I went without dating for months. So the fact that somewhere along the line, we would have sex seemed natural to me. I liked it, so why not.
Things had started to hot up, and we were now onto vodka chasers, necking them and slamming the glasses down noisily. Everyone was now well on the way to inhibition, oblivion and, and monster hangovers in the morning. But still in the sanctity of our haven.
Caroline, the brides’ mother and one of my best friends, stood up and shouted, “Hey Libby, it’s been a while since you’ve done a dare.”
“Shit,” I thought, “what does she have in mind now.”
“Libby, I dare you to kiss someone.”
No! She knows I don’t do that now. She knew I didn’t want to get close and personal. I had told her that. I’d even managed to squirm out of dancing with a gorgeous young hunk of a guy who I would have happily seduced and devoured if I was single. But since I had started to get serious with Nigel, who is now my husband, my wilder days were behind me. I was a monogamous one-man woman and had been for twenty years now.
“I dare you to kiss,” she slurred drunkenly before continuing, “I dare you to kiss Denise,”
I looked at her in shock and surprise as whoops and cheers went around our group. Denise was another friend of Caroline’s, about my age, likewise married with teenagers, and one hot lady, not that I am into women. I knew her in passing.
Denise looked at me, equally shocked and embarrassed neither of us knew what to do. It was clear that we didn’t want to kiss each other. We both begged to be let off the dare, but things got more heated with the girls now, and they kept urging us on.
Bowing to the pressure and not wanting to spoil the vibe, I looked at Denise and shrugged acceptance. Indicating I will, if you will, all the time staring daggers at Caroline. Denise did the same as we moved into the middle of the group and stood facing each other.
Hesitantly I slid my arms around Denise’s waist and pulled her to me. I could feel the warmth of her firm body against mine as she came closer and pressed her body to mine, gently, hips and boobs coming into contact.
We stared at each other for a second, neither wanting nor daring to take the lead. Then Denise took my head in her hands, bent my neck slightly as I am an inch taller than her and brought her lips to press softly against mine. Nothing else, a simple chaste pressing together of two pairs of lips. We held the kiss for a couple of seconds before parting. I’m sure we both recognised that we had liked it.
There was plenty of cheering from around us when Caroline intervened again, “That’s not a kiss. I kiss my mum with more bloody passion than that. Come on, let’s have some tongue action.”
If the cheers had been loud at the first request, then they were even louder now. I’m sure I even heard some cheers from the men in the general part of the club. What the hell had got into Caroline? She’s never had any lesbian tendencies before. Too much Prosecco and vodka were taking their toll.
What the hell. I’m half drunk, on a hen party and kissing another woman isn’t exactly cheating on Nigel, I thought, it will probably turn him on when I tell him. Isn’t it most men’s fantasy to know that their wife had kissed another woman?
Denise was looking at me, wondering what my reaction would be. I smiled at her, pushed my tongue out and licked my lips. That was the signal between us to start.
Our lips came together again, this time with more intensity and passion as we pulled each other tight. Lips parting slightly, I pushed my tongue out and into Denise’s open mouth, finding her tongue and playing with it. I was having my very first lesbian kiss. To add to the surrealism of it, I recognised that the DJ was playing the song, ‘It started with a kiss’, by Hot Chocolate.
Our mouths were working overtime as we were literally trying to eat each other, giving the girls plenty to cheer about. As I pulled Denise even tighter to me, I gave her firm bum a good squeeze through the tight, red leather skirt she was wearing.
I knew something was off. What I was doing was wrong. I am a married mum of two, and I was openly French kissing a woman. OK, it was as a dare, but frighteningly I had felt a spark of lust and excitement. I’m sure Denise deliberately brushed her hand against my boobs as we parted to loud but frustrated cheers, and not just from our party. I was right. More than a few men in the club had taken an obviously keen interest in what we were doing. It seems we had attracted quite an audience as we stood in the middle of the VIP area and snogged our faces off. Anybody who looked could see the tongue action taking place between us, and hands had definitely started caressing bodies.
Denise and I parted, and I stormed over to Caroline. “What the hell was that about?”
“You looked so uptight and not joining in, so I just wanted to have a laugh. I didn’t expect you to do it, even more, the fact that you two were ready to fuck each other right in front of everyone,” Caroline laughed. I laughed back as she was right.
“You owe me a bloody large ‘Voddie’, and not the cheap muck I want a large Stolichnaya,” I shouted at her over the noise as we dissolved into fits of giggles. The night wound down not long after that as everyone drifted off to their rooms.
I’d just cleaned my teeth and was in a black baby-doll nightdress with matching panties. Why the hell I’d brought such a sexy outfit with me? I don’t know. Maybe it was part of the feel-good thing of going on a hen party when a hesitant knock came on my door.
‘Who the hell is this?’ I thought as I peered through the spy hole.
I opened the door, and there was Denise, a bottle of Champagne, in her hand, smiling, “Can I come in and talk?”
I moved aside, and Denise walked past me into the bedroom. I have to admit I had a good look at her nice round bum encased in that tight skirt as she passed me.
“Libby, it is Libby, isn’t it?” she asked. Hell, we’d had one pretty hot kiss not so long ago, and she wasn’t sure of my name. I nodded yes but didn’t speak.
“Libby, I’m sorry about before. I mean, I’ve never done that before, kissed a woman.”
“And you think I have?”
“No, I’m sure you haven’t, but… but you felt something the way I did when we kissed. That little spark of something, that… that, just something.”
I wasn’t going to admit anything. I wanted to know what Denise intended, although judging from the bottle in her hand, I had a pretty good idea. Why didn’t that worry me? Instead, I was excited.
“Look, Denise, I’m married. I am not gay. I’m not even bi, at least as far as I’m aware of. So, where is this going? What do you want?”
Denise put the bottle on a table, walked over to me, and slid her arms around my waist (I didn’t stop her), saying, “I know you felt excited. Why did you grab my bum? I want to have sex with you tonight. I’ve never been with a woman either, and yes, I know you’re married, we both are, but it won’t be cheating, will it, not like cheating with another man. I’m sure Keith wouldn’t get too upset if he found out.”
That old get-out clause of not actually cheating on your husband if you’re having sex with another woman. That they’ll readily forgive you and even get turned on by the idea.
Denise leaned up as she had done in the club earlier and kissed me, again just that light brushing of her lips against mine as her arms moved higher and wrapped around my neck. At the same time, I opened my mouth to accept her kiss and pulled her hard against me, hands tight on her bum. All the time, I couldn’t get the song that was playing when we had kissed earlier out of my mind. Was it an omen? ‘It started with a kiss.’ Errol Brown, you have so much to answer for.
Denise melted into my arms as I returned her kiss, arms hugging my neck as she pulled my face against hers as hard as she could. At the same time, she was grinding her hips against me. The fact I was half-naked didn’t help with my restraint, as a firm leg pushed its way between mine and rubbed up against my pussy. Making my panties wetter than they should be.
I was squeezing Denise’s bum. Our tongues were uncontrollable as they toyed and played with each other. Teasing and enticing. My breath was coming in pants as I finally broke the kiss and said to Denise, “If we don’t stop now, you know what will happen?” I wanted her to stop and walk out of the door. I was desperate for her to just turn around and walk out of my bedroom and life. Yet again, in some way, I didn’t. I was torn in two by fear and lust. ‘I am not a lesbian,’ I kept saying to myself. ‘I’m married. I’ve never come close to cheating.’
Denise then sealed our fate as she looked at me coyly and smiled, saying, “Let it happen just for tonight. Nobody will know. I’m as nervous as you are.” At the same time reaching down to start unbuttoning the fastenings on her black silk blouse, parting it so that I could see her breasts straining to escape from a push-up black silky bra. I sank my head into her cleavage, lusting in the perfume of Chanel No 5.
I didn’t hesitate any longer, mentally committing myself and promising that I would make a full confession to my husband in the morning. I ripped Denise’s bra off the front of her boobs, making her gasp as the clasp gave way. I latched my mouth onto her right boob, sucking greedily on it as a one-year-old would do. Denise moaned as she shrugged her blouse off her shoulders and let it and the remnants of her bra fall to the floor.
I lowered myself down, kissing her body as I did. At the same time, I reached behind her and unzipped her skirt, pulling it over her hips and letting it drop to the floor. Following the waistband with my lips as I rained hot kisses down her torso. Denise pushed me away from her for a second as she hooked her fingers in her panties and, in one swift, movement pushed them over her hips and let them pile around her feet.
I was on my knees looking up at Denise, like a supplicant or penitent. In a position of surrender. Eyes, gazing up at her face but taking in the contours of her body. The slight swell of her stomach. The delightful upturn of her breasts. That gave the small dark nipples that perched there a cheeky upward look. My gaze travelled back down her body and rested on her pussy. Bereft of hair, she was clean-shaven. I was entranced by the view. I had never been that daring. I’m sure I could see drops of moisture glistening in her folds.
My hands were trembling as I placed them on the back of her thighs just behind her knees and slid them higher until they were just under the curve of her arse cheeks. My lips had made the same journey up the front of her right thigh, grazing butterfly light kisses as they rode higher.
My nose came to a stop as it hit her groin, pressing into her pussy, and I got a scent of her musky aroma for the first time. Denise let out a little gasp as my nose pressed harder into her. My hands had stopped trembling now. Instead, they were shaking with sheer terror.
I looked up, just managing to get a glance at Denise’s face as she smiled down at me, hesitantly encouraging. But, she also had a look of trepidation and the unknown in her eyes. I let my eyes drift closed as I placed my mouth on her, pressing my lips deep into her folds, parting her lips with the pressure I exerted. I sucked in and drank the lubrication that was covering her pussy. The most wondrous and beautiful taste in the world. Tangy and salty but with an underlying hint of honey sweetness. I savoured it like a connoisseur would the finest wine.
One final, persistent thought of doubt raced through my mind. I’m a happily married woman in her forties, and I’m kissing a pussy. I’m not meant to be doing this, tasting a woman. If I’m doing oral, I should be sucking on my loving husbands’ cock, deep-throating him to distraction. Not kissing a pussy, and to my everlasting shame liking it.
Denise moaned as my mouth moved on her. Then I surrendered to the underlying lust and curiosity that were raging throughout me. My tongue extended, and I licked deeply into Denise’s core, tasting more of her sweet and tasty juices. Her pussy was soft and moist and hot and encased my tongue as I swirled it around deep in her core. Hesitation a thing of the past now, as my tongue went into overdrive. Turbocharged in a frenzy of carnal lust.
I licked and licked up and down her slit, getting my tongue deep one moment, then just caressing the outer folds of her, driving Denise wild with lust as my tongue and lips played her hot sweet cunt.
God, why do most men not like licking pussy? I mused to myself. This is the most glorious thing I could ever do, the smell, the taste, the feel of it on my lips and tongue, lubricating juices coating me. Pure heaven! Maybe it takes a woman to fully appreciate it.
Knowing I had tormented Denise for long enough, I sucked the prominent nub of her clit between my lips and at first flicked and then rolled my tongue on it. Denise grabbed my head and pulled me tight against her mound at the same time as thrusting her hips into me, fucking my face in a frantic attempt to reach the crest of her impending orgasm. She kept fucking my face as if it was a man’s groin she was humping against. I licked and sucked on her clit, feeling the tremors ripple through her as she came. Flooding my mouth with the nectar of her offering, coating my face even more copiously than it had been before.
Denise let out a long howl of seeming anguish as she ripped herself from me and fell to the floor in a heap beside me. Her body was heaving as she drew breath after breath into her. I thought she was sobbing. Denise’s breathing was that loud and furious, ‘Oh my God, what have I done,’ I thought, as I moved closer to her.
Denise looked at me with a glazed look in her eyes, reached out a shaking arm and pulled me closer to her, and as our faces came close, she kissed me in the most loving way I had ever been kissed in my life. A kiss of pure, unadulterated love. She then continued to rain soft kisses over my face, at the same time licking and cleaning her juices from me. I had so much to say but knew that at that moment, words were uncalled for and would actually ruin everything that had just gone before and could possibly happen again.
I was as shocked as Denise was, but I was expectant, frustrated and wanted something myself. I wanted to experience what Denise just had but held back.
Denise shook herself, boobs bouncing and swaying as she did, took me by the hand as we both got up off the floor, and she led me to the bed. Suddenly I was naked, bra and panties pulled off my body, on my back, arms and legs akimbo as Denise pushed me down. Eyes, devouring my naked body with primal lust.
She dropped down beside me and sucked one breast and then the other into her mouth. Alternating between sucking and nipping on my hard and sensitive nipples. Salivating over them as she enjoyed herself and the effect she was having on me as I groaned and sighed. Each movement of her tongue sends a tingling message directly to my pussy, making it twitch and ache.
Her hands were roaming freely over me, fondling and squeezing my boobs, lightly running her nails up and down my sides, tickling and stimulating as they did so. Time ceased to matter as infinitesimally slowly I felt her hand move down, over my belly, past my mound and a single finger pressed into my slit, held still for a second and then pulled out. My hand shot down to grasp hers and pushed the finger back inside me. Denise giggled and pulled it slowly out again, increasing the pressure as she did so, almost dragging it against my lips as she tormented me. Back in again, this time just as slowly but a little deeper and a lot harder. God, she was building me up, teasing and tormenting me. I wanted her fingers, her whole hand and fist buried inside me, probing and ramming into me hard. Denise just kept up her delicate and slow assault on my pussy. I could swear I heard her purring at the torment she was causing in me.
Eventually, tiring of torturing me, she flipped around and started to do what I really needed by now. She buried her head between my legs as I experienced the feel of a woman’s mouth on my pussy for the first time.
Her tongue was lashing furiously up and down my slit, powering between the outer folds. Her initial assault on my pussy was hard and fast and furious in its intensity.
Her tongue probed deep inside my pussy, delving deep into my core as I eagerly opened it for her. Swirling around and around, time after time, the side of her tongue scraping along me.
Her hands reached out and spread my pussy lips even wider as she pressed her face hard into my groin and sighed. Sending a shiver through me with the vibrations echoing over my pussy.
Three fingers were unceremoniously pushed into my cunt, at the same time as Denise sucked my aching and needy clit between her lips. She sucked on it as though it was a nipple on my boobs.
My legs wrapped themselves around her shoulders as I pulled her face hard against me and locked my ankles around her, pinning her in place. As the first shudders of my orgasm began to course through my spasming body. My hips lifted off the bed as I ground myself against her face. Her fingers pressed in and out of my pussy, and she continued to suck on my clit.
My climax was long and hard and loud as I screamed and shrieked and thrashed about on the bed as Denise drove me over the edge, shuddering and shaking with lust and passion.
I came down hard from the orgasm as we lay bodies entwined together. Denise held me close, calming my sobs. Sometimes I react this way after an intense orgasm.
I leaned over towards her and kissed her, “Thank you,” I managed to whisper. It seemed so inadequate and cold.
Denise didn’t say anything, just kissed me back, softly at first, but soon we were both lost again in the emotion of sexual intent between us. Hands had started to roam again. Now taking the time to discover and please. Kisses were placed on bodies as we learnt what we liked and what worked for each of us. For a while, we slipped into the sixty-nine position, and I loved it, as for once I was underneath. Normally, with my husband, I’m the one on top. This way, it felt as if I was being dictated to and less in control, and it was having a massive effect on me.
All too soon for my liking, Denise broke away and faced me, pulling me up so that we were both sitting up facing each other. Smiling at me, she lifted one of my legs and placed it over hers so that our legs were intertwined, then she hitched forward until her pussy was pressing against mine. I’m sure my eyes must have widened as I felt the heat and pressure of her pussy as she started to rub it against mine. I could feel the juices leaking out of her and mingling with mine. I loved the intimated nature of what we were doing.
At first, Denise’s face was screwed up in concentration but then relaxed as I started to rub my pussy against hers in a matching motion. At the same time, my hands reached out, cupped her boobs and started squeezing them, moulding them to the shape of my hand. Soon, Denise was doing the same to me. We tried to kiss but just couldn’t get the angle right. So we gave up on that, and we continued to enjoy the feel of our pussies rubbing together. Until we both managed to force an orgasm from each other. Mine, coming first and lasting longer than Denise’s.
Spent, sated and exhausted, we fell asleep bodies touching but not holding each other.
The morning broke all too soon with a headache and the realisation that I had done something dreadful last night. Oh, my, God, I’d happily had sex with another woman. And I knew I wanted to do it again. I knew I wanted Denise as a lover, not just for a night but forever. Would she feel the same? I was terrified. Terrified that she would be repulsed about what we had done, that she would hate me, that she would be ashamed.
Denise emerged from my bathroom, hair wet and in a mess, a towel wrapped casually around her body. Looking at me, she smiled, walked over and kissed me on the lips, hesitantly just like our first kiss the night before.
“It’s always awkward the morning after, isn’t it,” she said.
“What, you’ve done this before, cheated?”
“No! Never, I was meaning with a new lover, but I’ve never cheated before.”
“Neither have I.”
“It’s been that long I’ve forgotten what it’s like with a new lover.”
“Are we what?”
In answer, I reached out to try and pull the towel from her, but she danced away, saying, “Shower first, then we need to sort things out.”
I had a quick shower, at the same time managing to find some paracetamol to take the edge off my aching head.
When I joined Denise back in the bedroom, she was naked and in bed. Patting it, she made me sit next to her.
“What happens next?” I said, taking the lead.
“What do you want to happen next?” Denise replied, “Is this just a drunken one-off quickie. If so, then fine, I can live with that, just, but… I’d rather not.”
“You mean you want to carry on. Us as lovers?”
“Yes.” A bald statement of fact, nothing to try and persuade me or to put me off. She wanted to continue to basically have an affair and was leaving the choice up to me. A smile was the answer she got before I jumped on her, and we had another round of hot sex, missing the breakfast with all the other girls. There were lots of catcalls and questions when we eventually joined the rest of the party, neither confirming nor denying if we had spent the night together. But a lot of people put two and two together and got five.
So that was the start of our twelve-month long love affair, and it wasn’t an easy time. It’s not easy for two married, working mothers of teenage kids to conduct an illicit lesbian affair. Time alone together was hard to find and led to us breaking up twice during that year together. I ended it the first time.
I was full of guilt and remorse at cheating on my husband, Nigel. I knew I was treating him terribly. I was also neglecting the kids at a very important time in their lives. I knew I loved Denise, and the sex was great between us, but I also loved Nigel. I was torn and miserable. I’m sure Nigel was aware that something was going on but didn’t say anything to me. Eventually, I restarted the affair.
The next time we split up, it was Denise, that both ended and then restarted things between us. When we got together again and discussed things lying in each other’s arms after making love, we knew we had a choice to make. A choice that was not easy to make and would cause heartbreak to somebody. But as we looked at each other, we knew what that choice was. It was the inevitable conclusion to that first night of passion between us.
Like a coward, I was lying in my husbands’ arms, having just finished making love, when I broke the news to him that I was leaving. It was Saturday morning, and we had made long slow, languorous love. I’d been on top, taking my time, screwing him just the way he likes, rotating my groin on him and clenching my pussy up and down his cock, taking lots and lots of time. He was playing with my boobs, squeezing the nipples the way we both like, increasing the strength as he drove me higher and higher until I had reached my own orgasm.
God, I was going to miss this, the way we connected and made love so well together, each comfortable but still able to generate passion between us. Continuing on, I sensed he was close, so slipped his cock out of my pussy, slid down his body and finished him off in my mouth. Something he loves and something I’d not done like that for years. Finish him in my mouth, yes, but to interrupt lovemaking to suck him off, not for a long time now.
It was the first way that we had done that all those years ago. We’d been having sex, and he’d told me he wanted to cum in my mouth. Surprisingly I’d agreed, so when he told me he was close, I’d taken him in my mouth and let him finish. At first, I hadn’t liked it that much, but now I love it. I love the fact it gives him so much pleasure.
“Nigel, I’ve got something to tell you, and I don’t know how to start,” I said softly.
“How long has it been going on? I know you’ve been seeing someone else. How long?”
“Nigel, it’s not like that, please, believe me, I’m not seeing another man.”
“Oh, please don’t take me for a total idiot. It’s been plain for a while now. You’re in love with another man.”
“No, I’m not. I’m not in love with another man. I’m in love with a woman.”
“Nigel, I’m in love with a woman, and I’m sorry, but I’m leaving you and the kids to be with her.”
I then went on to explain about my affair with Denise. How it had started, ending by telling him, “Nigel, I still love you. It’s not that I don’t love you and the kids. It’s just I love Denise as much and need to be with her more than you.”
At that, Nigel got out of bed and left me alone, with my guilt and shame.
I was standing by the cooker, and Nigel was sitting at the breakfast table when Monica, our eighteen-year-old daughter, and Oliver, our sixteen-year-old son, came in. At once noticing the frosty air between us. Nigel looked broken and shocked as he sat, staring into space in silence.
Ever the perceptive one, Monica asked, “What’s up, what’s going on.”
“I think you two had better sit down,” I said.
“What’s up? It’s not gran, is it?” Monica continued.
“No, darling, it’s something else,” I replied, “I can’t say this in any other way. I’m leaving, your dad and you. I’ve… I’m in love with somebody else.”
“You… you’ve got another man, you cow.”
“No, Monica, I’m in love with a darling woman by the name of Denise.”
“A woman, you can’t mean that! A WOMAN! That is so not right, that is so disgusting, that is so fucking perverted. I don’t believe you.”
I just stood there, not even admonishing Monica for swearing.
“Dad, do something, say something. It can’t be true.”
“It seems it is, darling. It seems like your mum loves another woman.”
“Mum, you are a bloody cow. I hate you,” Monica screamed at me, “Another woman, that is so gross. You’re leaving us for another woman!”
“Hey cool, mums a lezza,” Oliver then spoke up.
“No, it’s not cool,” Monica shouted at him. I was surprised at Monica taking things much harder than I had expected and much harder than her father.
“When are you going to this bull dyke of yours, then? What’s she like, all dungarees and boots and shaved head? Or maybe you’re the dyke. After all, you’ve always been bossy. Maybe you’re the domme.” Monica raved at me.
“What’s a domme?” asked Oliver. Nobody answered him. Nigel was still in shock, and it seemed like our daughter was going to have a blazing row with me.
I didn’t shout back at her, realising she was in shock and hurt and was feeling abandoned.
“Monica, Denise is not a bull dyke, and neither am I. We just met and fell in love. Neither of us is a dyke. Look, I still love all of you. It’s not that. I’ve not fallen out of love with your dad.”
“You don’t seem to love him enough not to want to be with her.” The contempt in her was poisonous as Monica spat it out.
“Monica, it’s not that. I still love your dad. Look, I’ve been in love with your dad for over twenty years now, but I just love Monica as well, and I can’t help that. I had an impossible choice to make…”
“And you chose her, your bitch of a girlfriend, over your husband and father to your children.” Again the words were laced with pure spite and venom. If Nigel had reacted like this, I could have understood, but Monica? I really was devastating my family.
“Monica, I’m sorry.”
“Just get out, get away from us, go to your precious lover. When are you leaving? It can’t be soon enough.”
“Denise is meeting me later on this morning,” I said as I left the kitchen and went into my bedroom and began to pack. Tears streamed down my face at the anguish I was causing.
Suddenly the door flew open, and a patchwork suede miniskirt hit me in the face.
“You’d better have this back. You’ll need it to parade in front of your bitch in, like the slutty cow you are.”
The skirt was mine, but Monica not only loves it and looks that great in it that I’ve more or less given it to her. But she also looks better in it now than I ever did. She looks young and sexy, me, well it’s just a bit too short now.
“Monica, please, it’s not like that.”
And that’s when the dam burst as Monica broke down in tears, sobbing her heart out. I hugged her to me, and she let me. I knew I had broken her heart.
“Monica, I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know what to do. I… we, Denise and I never planned what happened.”
“But why a woman? What caused you to do that?” The first logical and sensible question she had asked in the last hour.
For the second time that bitter day, I explained what had happened. The dare. The realisation that there was something more between us, the affair and breakups and the eventual understanding that we needed to be together as a couple.
“What’s it like, to be with another woman? Sex?” I knew I owed her an explanation, as she felt abandoned by her mother at a vulnerable time in her life. So I told her.
“Nice, different, strange. Monica, sex with your dad is still great. That’s not the problem, just with Denise, well it’s different.”
“Couldn’t you just stay with dad and see her on the side, like just as a lover?” Oh, the innocence and practicalness of youth!
“No. It’s not fair on your dad or Denise. I couldn’t live with that guilt anymore. I have to make the break for everyone’s sake, yours and Olivers as well.”
Monica left me alone after that. I finished packing with tears filling my eyes once more, and not without breaking down at times until a text made my phone ding. It was Denise. I picked up my case and walked out of my family and home. To start up a new home with my new lover.
So it started with a kiss, a simple, innocent kiss, that shattered two unsuspecting and innocent families. There are no winners in this tale, not even Denise and me. In fact, I think we have lost the most.
We are the ones that have to live with the guilt that we are the cause of so much pain, too so many undeserving people.
Errol Brown, why did you sing that bloody song.
“It Started With A Kiss!”
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