My lesbian lust for Auntie Evie

My lesbian lust for Auntie Evie 9A. (Correct versions)

The train ride home from Faversham was quiet. As much as we knew our time was coming to an end, we basked in the warmth of our trip. Even though we didn't say much, we leaned against each other. We held hands, we rubbed each other's fingers. We whispered words of love and admiration to each other. I wasn't sure what was running through her head. I wasn't even sure what was running through mine. All I knew was that she had taken a big chance to sneak away with me, and now that she was returning home and had to go back to life, perhaps as much as we were falling in love with one another, maybe the regret was setting in.

When the train pulled into the station and was finally slowing at the platform, Evie spoke softly to me, "Baby, I hate to say goodbye here. I'm not sure where Walter is, so I need to get off the train before you. Thank you for the wonderful weekend. I will text you later."

She gave me a long, deep hug, a soft kiss on my cheek, let go of my hand, and walked towards the front of the train car, exiting out of sight. I waited a few minutes letting most everyone else off the train before I exited, found my luggage, and made my way home. I was very disappointed about that. But I knew, as I had always known, that this was our little secret and that she was married, so we had to be cautious.

I got a text message from her later that evening, letting me know she had made it home safely and that things seemed to be okay. She further advised that Walter didn't suspect anything, and she would do her best to communicate with me over the next few days. I hoped the conversations would start back up that night, or even the next day. That she would be reliving our experiences, talking about how we made love, the trip itself, or how wonderful it was for us to have gotten away. Yet I heard nothing. It didn't sit well. I tried to just accept it. To justify maintaining the distance so we would not get caught.

I was overly relieved midweek when the conversations started back up. This time, though, they were very loving, very sensual, and took a very erotic turn. Since I had been with Evie, any pictures she sent me were sexy and cute, but, in reality, benign. They were sensual, or teasing even, but never naked or with descriptive sexual tones. However, suddenly and unexpectedly, I started to get naked pictures from her. Pictures of her in the shower. Pictures of her in her car with her hand in her panties. Pictures of her tits, with writing like "The girls miss you. Come suck on these. My pussy is throbbing for you."

I loved every single one of the pictures. I loved masturbating myself senseless while looking at them. I knew I wanted her more than life itself. I would have done anything to be with her. To make love to her, to be riding in the car next to her with my hand in her panties, or even in mine, playing with my pussy as she watched while driving. And as much as I loved the attention and her newly discovered desire to send me rather erotic pictures, it was her I wanted. Not just the pictures. Of course, I'd send some back when I could, and for that week, at least, she made me feel like I was wanted and loved, even though it was by text.

I got swept up in the attention, and when she did sneak by the following Sunday afternoon, we made love like two women in heat. We had clothes coming off before we even passed my bedroom door. We licked and sucked each other's pussies so hard, I think we both were numb by the time it was done. I begged her to stay with me. I told her I'd go home with her to confront Walter, to gather her clothes, to move her in with me. I didn't want to be without her.

I started buying rainbow flag clothing and flags, and supporting a group I was sure I would become part of. I began planning my marriage proposal to her. I started looking at wedding rings. I wanted to plan another trip, but this time be on my bended knee, slipping her current wedding ring off and sliding my engagement ring onto her warm, loving finger.

But in the midst of our time, our texts, our erotic pictures, and dirty talk, our Sunday afternoon love-making session, the shit hit the fan.

Late Sunday night, exactly two weeks after getting back from our trip, my phone rang. It was Evie calling me. I was surprised she was calling me on a Sunday night, and without even thinking about it, I answered quickly, saying, "Hello, Sexy. What ya doing?"

Well, imagine my shock when the male voice on the other end of the line said, "Who is this? Are you fucking my wife?"

My heart dropped so fast, and my asshole snapped tight, because even though I had never heard his voice, and never seen him, I knew the caller was Walter.

"Umm, no... I... Umm, no, we just umm, talk dirty and send pictures to each other." Was all I could get out.

"Bullshit," he barked out. "I've seen your pictures and read her writing to you. Evie wrote to you, "The girls miss you. How long have you been sleeping with my wife?"

I just babble and grumbled trying to find an answer. I didn't know what he knew. I didn't know what she had told him. I didn't know if he knew about Faversham, or how many times she had snuck over here. Before I could even get a reply out, he was screaming at me on the phone. Accusing me of things - I had done - but things he couldn't prove. I could hear Evie in the background demanding her phone back, telling him to hang up, threatening to pack her stuff and leave.

After he promptly hung up, while yelling at her, my heart was racing, my stomach was queasy, and fear and panic were taking over. I was shaking, I didn't know whether to hide or leave the house. I felt concern for Evie. I hoped she was okay. Before I could even calm down and catch a single breath. The phone rang again. This time, I didn't even get "hello" out before Walter yelled at me again. This time, his words were meaner, more demeaning, more demoralizing than anything anyone ever said to me. I started crying. I could hear them literally grappling for her phone. He'd stop yelling at me and turn his attention to yelling at her while the line was still open, then return to yelling at me. My biggest fear, her biggest fear, had come to fruition. We had been caught.

I begged him to let me talk to her, just so I could make sure she was okay. But he wouldn't let me. I sat there screaming over the line, telling her to come by me if she needed a place to stay, hoping she would hear it. I didn't know if she heard me, but somewhere in the midst of it all, I heard her yell out, "Bella, I'm fine, he's just being an asshole." And the line went dead. I didn't get any more calls that night, and as much as I wanted to call her, I didn't want to rock the boat. I was up until well after 2 A.M. holding my phone to my chest, hoping to get a text or call from her. To hear my doorbell ring, hoping she would have had enough of fighting with him and just come by me. But that never came.

On Thursday afternoon, I received a call from her at work on my work phone. I didn't know where she was calling from, as the call was transferred to my desk. Evie told me she had fallen asleep on the couch Sunday night. When her phone started chiming a lot, he picked it up, went through her messages, saw our pictures, and flew off the handle. She apologized for him calling and making a scene, but assured me she was okay. She told me she loved me, but she didn't know if we'd be able to communicate or see each other again.

I was crying at my desk. My heart was in pieces. I was in love with her, and now that he had discovered our little secret, I was going to be cut off from her. I suggested she come live with me. To leave him. But all of my suggestions were met with negative responses. She reiterated what she had always told me. "I am married, and he is my husband. The father of my children. He is right. I can't divorce him. We've been together forever. It's not that easy, Bella."

Just as I was literally begging her not to cut us off, pleading with her to somehow make this work, she whispered, "Bella, I gotta go. I love you. Just know I do, but I gotta go" And she hung up the phone.

I wallowed in misery for several weeks. I didn't have the guts to text her, or to go by her house, and I hadn't heard from her. I felt so demoralized, let down, ashamed, hurt, and guilty, all rolled into one. I was always looking over my shoulder, watching my back, I was always waiting for Walter to show up at my work, or my house, fight with me, cause a scene, or cause more trouble for me. Thankfully, none of that ever came.

I awoke very late on a Saturday morning, just about three weeks after Walter had called me. I truly looked like shit. My hair was in knots. I hadn't eaten or slept right for weeks. I hadn't kept my house clean and was probably down to the last pair of panties or two, because I hadn't done laundry. I was just starting to make coffee when I got a text from Evie. "Can I stop by for a few? I need to talk to you."

"Sure," was my response.

About 20 minutes later, Evie was at my door. When she walked in, we held each other so tightly. It was like the coming-home moment I so needed. I was crying lightly as she whispered her apologies for everything that had happened. She was rubbing my back so lovingly and supportively, as we just held one another.

During our conversation, she reiterated everything that had happened that night and since he discovered our affair. She told me she never told him about Faversham, that he still believed she was there with her book club, and that after she returned, that's when our messages started up again. She told me he threatened her with divorce. That he threatened to call her whole family and let them know she was a lesbian. Tell the kids that "she liked pussy," and a host of other vile and rather disgusting events that would turn her life upside down.

However, over the past week, once his anger had subsided and they talked peacefully, she had admitted to him that this affair was something unexpected. That we "just fell for each other." That she had felt he had let her down physically and emotionally, and that's why she needed my love and attention. That their marriage had taken a deep turn of doldrums from love, affection, and desires. So as much as she took responsibility for having sex with me, she also justified to him why she did it.

Surprisingly, to me, during those conversations, she outright admitted to him that she liked being with me. Liked the comforts of being with a woman, that she had discovered new passions and sexual interests, she had never known. Evie explained that throughout their conversations, I guess he began to understand why the affair had started, and continued, and why she had developed these newfound desires. I know their love for each other was deep. They had been married forever, and I know neither wanted to leave the situation. So, I think he felt some responsibility for their lack of passion and desire, and, as much as he could blame her, he chose to just try to figure it out.

In the long run, she told me they had made a deal. And it was up to me to determine where her and my future lay. The deal was that Evie could keep seeing me, but occasionally, he needed to be involved with us, too. According to her, his words were, "If you're fucking her, then I'm fucking her, too."

So, there it was. All laid out for me to determine. In essence, she and I could keep dating, sleeping together, fucking, (whatever words you'd like to use), but on occasion, I would have to be involved with him. I'd have to sleep with Walter. A man I never met, don't know if I would be attracted to, or even want to sleep with. But if I wanted her, I'd have to have him, too.

It didn't sit very well with me. Truth be told, I initially told her no. I didn't want men anymore. I wanted her. I wanted her to leave him. For us to become permanent lovers, no matter who it pissed off, or who didn't like it. Evie held my hand and told me that if it were a different time, or a different place, or even years earlier, she would just leave him and be with me. But unfortunately, since he made the money, they had houses, cars, bills, and she had no way to immediately support herself and live as she was used to, so she couldn't leave him. No matter how much she was in love with me.

She cried when holding my hands, reiterating that it was the only way I was going to continue to be with her. That "There were no other alternatives. It was either keep seeing her as much as we could, and have him on occasion, or none at all."

I didn't like it. I didn't want that. I told her time and time again that she could live with me. That I made enough to support us both until she could find work, or become more stable, even if she wanted to live alone, once she was back on her feet. That I wasn't scared to come out to everyone that we were in love. That I was ready for that. I was ready to be with her forever. She just didn't want to hear it.

Just before she left me standing at my doorway, saying goodbye with her eyes welling up. She spoke out, "Think about it, Bella. At least we'd still be together."

I was beyond angry. I was hurt. I was let down. Here she was, pledging her love to me more than a month ago in a hotel room on a trip we took together. Just several weeks ago, she was here eating my pussy with such passion and desire that I came as hard as I ever had. And after that trip, I was receiving the most erotic pictures and sexual wording I had ever received from anyone, talking about how bad she wanted me. Yet, when I offered her solutions. Offered her somewhere to live, the ability to break free, to be together, and all she's pushing for was to let Walter get his fill of fucking me, occasionally, during some threesomes, just so we could still be together.

I didn't communicate with Evie for a while. I had to digest this. To think about it. To really weigh the positives and negatives of this whole ordeal. I knew she loved me. And I knew I was in love with her. I get how this whole thing played out. Neither of us expected this. Neither of us planned this. It just happened. But it happened for a reason. Whether she was scared to "be a lesbian," or only to be with me, or was afraid to admit she was in love with a woman. Our situation was odd. It was unique, taboo, or downright different. The truth of the matter was, I believed she wanted me as much as I wanted her. But for whatever reason, correct or incorrect, she wasn't going to leave him. And now I had to decide whether I was willing to sacrifice a few nights of getting dick from a guy I barely knew, just to be with her. Or just walk away.

The problem was, my heart longed for her more than it had for anyone who had ever been with. I wanted to come out. I wanted to scream to the world, "I'm in love with a woman, and I want her to be my wife." I didn't care who knew. I didn't care if my parents approved or not. I needed to be with whom I needed to be with. Moreover, I wasn't even sure whether going along with her plan and letting Walter join us occasionally would finally convince her to leave him. That she'd finally realize that she loved me more than him. That she'd finally accept that she liked pussy more than dick. That it was okay to be in love with someone of the same sex. That she'd wanted me forever, versus staying in a relationship that had long lost its fire and passion.

I know it seems selfish, but I truly wish he had just thrown her out. Whether she went and stayed with family or friends, or even with me, at least I could have been there for her and continued to give her the love and support she needed, all while trying to build our relationship. But he didn't. Instead, he proposed some teenage boy's fantasy of fucking two women at once and was probably going to dictate to her when and if she could see me. To monitor when she came and went. To demand his piece of the action when he saw fit, and not let us move forward as I wanted. It was trying times.

After long thoughts, a lot of anger, and a desire to be with the woman I loved, I swallowed my pride and decided to accept her deal. In the end, I don't think I was concerned about being penetrated by a man. Lord knows a lot of women love getting dicked, and I had a boyfriend at one time. The concern was being penetrated by someone I didn't know and wasn't sure I'd even want to be with. So, I made a counteroffer to Evie. I asked her to stop by one day and laid it on the line. I told her in short. "I will meet with you and Walter for dinner. I DO NOT want any trouble, any arguing, or any bullshit. With that said, if I am interested enough to consider sleeping with him, he does not have the ability to dictate to us when you and I see each other. Whether we want to just go clothes shopping, go out to dinner, watch a movie, go to the theater, or just fuck, he has no say in when and where. And I get to be with you 3 or 4 more times than I get to be with him. Period! That's my offer, take it or leave it."

Evie smiled so brightly at that and immediately kissed me deeply. "That sounds like a deal to me," she spoke softly. "I'll let him know."

Needless to say, the following weekend we all met for dinner. It was very nerve-wracking, very awkward, and very unsettling for me. But, as nervous and unusual as it was, I got to see Evie, I got to meet Walter, and we actually had a nice dinner and conversation as we got to know one another. He didn't bark or bitch about us being together behind his back. He was actually really pleasant and kind during the night. I'm sure he thought we'd immediately leave the restaurant and go fuck, but that wasn't going to happen.

I'll tell you all about the first time the three of us were together in the next chapter. Just know I wasn't fond of it, only because it was so awkward and unusual for Evie and me, not to be completely entrenched in each other, but we had to turn our attention to him. However, once he got off and left the room, we kept on going for quite some time. Seems in the long run, I could please her more than he ever could.