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MrBrett said:
Actually, I don't. All of the clubs in Nashville are 21+.

And it's ok, I know you love me too :heart:
Click to expand...

OMG!!! 21+ ... ??? Well, actually some clubs here in UK are too. But, there are clubs in the university district of Manchester that are 18+ (and if you look older, you can get in both if the door person turns a blind eye to it).

Who is your fave techno/groove dance artist or DJ mixer ???

Forever ~ Milk Inc.

Could You Believe? ~ ATB
 
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Sienna said:
OMG!!! 21+ ... ??? Well, actually some clubs here in UK are too. But, there are clubs in the university district of Manchester that are 18+ (and if you look older, you can get in both if the door person turns a blind eye to it).

Who is your fave techno/groove dance artist or DJ mixer ???

Forever ~ Milk Inc.
Click to expand...

I actually don't listen to techno. I prefer Pink Floyd, The Who, The Beatles, basically the eras that I missed- 70s and 80s. The time when music was awesome!

If you show the door person your marvelous 34B's, I'm sure he'd let you in ;)
 
MrBrett said:
I actually don't listen to techno. I prefer Pink Floyd, The Who, The Beatles, basically the eras that I missed- 70s and 80s. The time when music was awesome!

If you show the door person your marvelous 34B's, I'm sure he'd let you in ;)
Click to expand...

My tastes are not exactly the same as yours MrBrett. Infact, when I'm not clubbing or listening to the charts, my love of music is smooth jazz believe it or not ;)

Together Again~ Dave Koz
 
Thread historicals:

From October 2007:
*AJ in this diary is TRT*

A Story To Be Told

My biographical diary...

Chapter One :The Present (as was October 2007)

My wanting to return to university to study had slightly perplexed AJ. It certainly surprised many others who knew me. An unexpected flash of motivation. However, it triggered some concerns about raising our youngest and through consultation and agreement I decided to delay my plans for atleast another year. He was happy and he began to show it. And, so was I.

Our closeness has grown over the past few weeks. We are discussing things more openly and spending time alone together, patching up areas that had been ignored or taken for granted. His fantasies have suddenly returned allowing me to fulfil them along with mine too. Sex has become more interesting and both of us more receptive. Sex re-discovered.

For years I had waxed my pubic area. In silence he had hated it until admitting recently that he had found it “undesirable” and his preference was more to me having a natural growth of hair neatly trimmed to his idea of perfection. He also admits that now my pubes are darker than some years ago, he finds it strangely irresistible. However, his suggestions to dictate how I feel and how I want to look to the outside world have been toned down a little. Shorter hair and possibly dyed black does appeal to my idea of looking more “Goth”, but I am not unerringly ready yet for the total transformation.

I have decided that I will not place any demands upon him. Men like to be in control and feel happy knowing that they are. I am sure he knows that sometimes the real control is actually with me and accepts that in silence. He is afterall the “breadwinner” as he calls it, the one bringing home the coffers of family economics, now becoming more expensive. Holidays seem to be a thing of the past at the moment, improving home and family first. The new kitchen extension was plagued with high expenses and building faults beyond belief. Yet, I never indulged in getting involved. He was left in complete control, despite some other noticeable faults that he had overlooked.

During the past few years my children have been my priority over spending money on nights out. I have discovered that my friends had also found their more important priorities too. Nightclubbing was only sought in desperation. Once in a while we would meet in a bar instead, spending a few hours recollecting the stupidities of our earlier youth. It suddenly dawned on me that we were now maturing finally into adulthood and me more than they because I had one extra life experience – kids.

Last year the few days we spent in Blackpool saw us separating and going our different ways. This was the start of the realisation I think. I rekindled a short-lived encounter from my past with someone special. It became a revelation I have not yet admitted to openly until now. Love has now been replaced by a long lasting friendship by mutual agreement, sealed by the act of union in a way that both of us are and will always be akin to. Not exactly our final act as such. We have both agreed that should we desire a few hours together in future, then we would brave the indulgence for old times sake.

AJ found this agreement acceptable when I explained it. He too shared a past with both of us. The movies we had recorded will not allow those days to be forgotten. The only thing he asks is that I tell him, without details. This followed a surprise admittance that he too once loved her and he explained to me openly that he had to make an uneasy choice. His love for me was stronger and he understands that two women need, as he describes it, “a particular friendly relationship” that men seem difficult by nature to understand. I asked if he felt that I was somehow cheating on him and he told me clearly that a relationship of this kind was important to me and he was thankful that I never once thought of leaving him entirely for her. Something I could not do to be honest. I needed him as my choice of partner, and my female lover was now only a very special and respected friend.

The conversation extended to my online activities. The rules of engagement as he describes it must still apply. He had seen what he had found when I was nursing Rachel in those first few days after giving birth. I gave him permission to notify as promised and to search whatever he could access. He had found a similar “friendship” to the kind I have with Jules. It was on web pages that displayed emotion of a kind he found himself accepting, only if it remained there. The rules of engagement will always be his obedient law.

Twice now we have been invited to a meet in Northampton and twice I have agreed that if I go, we go as a couple, taking our children with us. He wants it to be that way because he wants to be seen as part of who I am. However, the occasion was never made important and so never followed through as yet. He was concerned about who we would meet and our privacy as a couple will be open to unwanted evasion. He wanted this part of my life to remain firmly within the boundaries of our decisive rules. This I could only agree with, explaining that I too had feared who and what we would meet. There was a strange and mysterious limit involved and I was not brave enough to cross that limit yet. Maybe soon perhaps? My curiosity is forever growing stronger.
 
continued...

Chapter Two: The First Kiss

I embarked on my sexual experiences just a few years after meeting my first lover. Jules and I met at the start of high school and suddenly we bonded as mates. Like two peas in a pod, inseparable. The only differences were, she was tall and I was small, she was auburn and I was blonde. We acted like sisters – soul sisters from that very first day we had met. Her roots were impoverished and mine were considered to be ‘professional class’, in other words, she had learned to survive the streets of suburbia while my childhood was spent growing up amongst the farming communities of England.

Our friendship had it’s up and downs. We would have silly arguments and then learn to comfort each other afterwards. Often I would invite Jules to my house, as she was too embarrassed to let me visit hers. And that is where it all began. Our relationship changed from a simple bonded friendship into something more complex and exciting.

I had always found other girls interesting. The rumours I had been hearing told me that to fancy another girl was taboo. It was boys that I should be thinking of not members of my own sex. The conversations were firmly rooted in the beliefs that boys can do this and do that, they have this and that and if you dared to go too far you can get pregnant, the ultimate sin. I found my interests in both sexes. The boys intrigued me, of course, but I also found myself looking at girls, especially in the changing rooms and showers and especially finding Jules even more interesting because I knew her so well.

I would compare their bodies to mine and admire their beauty. Their breasts differed in sizes, shapes and nipple character and yet we were all the same age. I noticed Jules was bigger than me; she seemed to be a lot more mature, whilst my own little breasts were still struggling to catch up with most of them. There were fat ones and thin ones, tall and short, although I was the shortest of all. I still found it fascinating and dare I say very arousing. I tried to not to appear to be watching and observing in fear of being labelled perverse, yet they didn’t seem to mind that much either.

I confided in Jules about my feelings. She listened and promptly told me not to worry; it was natural, never explaining clearly how she herself felt about it. I tended to be a little more open about my thoughts and feelings than she was. I may have been shy socially, but I would confide in things about my body that I did not fully understand as if she was somekind of guru and more experienced than me. Her more than my mother who was too busy with her career. Her more than my older sister who did not seem very interested at all.

One day a group of us began to discuss gender issues, in particular the taboo sinful subject of lesbianism after a lesson in humanities. It was then I realised that females actually did things with each other and visa versa regarding males. The concept of ‘gayness’ as our teacher called it. It felt good to know that atleast I wasn’t as weird as I had thought I was regarding my secret desires. However, I would not mention my feelings with my friends, except for Jules. We trusted each other so much, I risked our private conversations would become common knowledge and suddenly I would one day be labelled a freak. I told her I wanted to know what it was like, to feel and touch another girl intimately. She would smile and change the subject quickly.

Then one weekend it happened. The taboo became a secret between us, and something we dared not reveal to anyone else. In my bedroom at home we began toy fighting, throwing cushions, cuddly toys and pillows at each other. It was something we had always done to counter the boredom of waiting to go out somewhere. Suddenly Jules dived onto my bed and I found myself falling between her legs. We both stopped as I noticed her knickers. There was a damp patch and I wondered if our excitement had made her wet herself. She looked back at me asking what was wrong and I told her.

“It’s not wee. It’s something else.” She said turning over so that I could see from a different perspective. “Do you want to find out what it is?” she asked. I was intrigued. If it wasn’t what I thought it was, then it had to be something I too had experienced on occasions. I wasn’t sure about her question until she told me to pull off her knickers and take a closer look, which I did, nervously, without hesitation. I pulled them far enough to see her buttocks and the view of her flower. I detected her scent and noticed how her petals opened wider as she spread her thighs apart. I had only seen my own sex through a mirror before then. I found similarities and the wetness was the thing that happened when you had certain kinds of thoughts.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.” I told her.

“Why not? It’s what we both want isn’t it?” Her reply surprised me. She was actually showing me a part of her body that was considered intimate and she seemed to be enjoying the fact. “Open her up with your fingers and take a closer look inside.” I so did, I wanted to, not just through curiosity, through sheer devilment of touching her there. The whole act was making me wet too, but I didn’t mention it. Instead I followed her wishes for me to spread her lips apart with my fingers and notice that her vagina was open wide like a tiny dark cavern. “Well, isn’t it pretty?” she asked. I nodded my reply as she looked back over her shoulder laughing at me. It was all too clinical, like somekind of anatomy lesson, until I placed one finger slowly inside. I had gone beyond the bounds of my own imagination and actually placed a digit inside another girl. From there things developed further. The afternoon was devoted to us both observing each others sex, finding those similarities and comparing things we liked to do to ourselves in private with our own private thoughts. This made us closer than ever before, in particular the kissing.

Neither of us had kissed someone properly. In pure silence we experimented. First tiny kisses on our lips, like finding our way in some unknown territory, cautious and mindful of what each other was looking for. Then the kisses became more intimate, using our tongues and discovering the mechanism that sent our hearts beating faster with passion. It became addictive and to make it even more exciting we removed all of our clothing so that we could touch our bodies whilst we kissed. The daring sexual observations of each others intimate parts turned into another dimension, that of finding something more consequential to both of us. It was to become the major act of showing our love for each other.

We also had discovered boys and found them interesting too. This was a lesbian relationship of sorts with a wider field of interest. Surely lesbians don’t bother with lads? But, we did. Our discovery of the romantic meaningful kiss extended to lads too, the more we got to know them. What Jules and I did in private became our most guarded secret. And we were both adamant on remaining virgins for as long as we could.

Life suddenly got interesting. I became hooked on the exotic tastes and scents of oral sex. Jules and I became totally sealed as lovers, inventing new twists to our games on those quiet Sunday afternoons we spent together. Then one Sunday she introduced us both to something that we had only heard of before then, the vibrator. She unwrapped it from its towelling cloth that she sneaked it in with, and there it was, the pink smooth slim lined machine that was to promise us moments of additional pleasure. “How would we use it?” I asked. We soon discovered its use after sharing it between us and adapted to its almost instant gratification at many different settings. This became a ‘third’ friend in our relationship, our trusty ‘battery operated boyfriend’.

That year I saw an increasing change in Jules. She was mixing with the wrong types of people from where she lived. I became worried because they traded in something I totally objected to – drugs. She had never smoked before and now she was spending all of her money on spliffs. The sex we had was un-changed, but her attitude was becoming less responsible. Jules soon learned to dispense of my criticisms and I had to ignore my own feelings regarding them.

The ‘possy’ of friends began to grow and we became nine-strong. The others did not know of how Jules and I felt for each other, which became harder to hide each time we all met. Our secret remained safe, until one day we were caught passionate kissing when we thought it was safe. We covered it up by saying it was a dare between us and made up excuses that we were practising our techniques in order to perfect them on lads. It worked and the others found it peculiar but acceptable.

We got used to our nicknames. Jules was ‘Tinker’ because of her roots and I was ‘Pixie’ because of my size and ears (which someone pointed out were slightly pointed), which I disagreed with and soon became used to, because the others refused to change their minds. Our guru leader was ‘Pineapple’ after the way she tied up her hair that complimented the dark tone of her skin and made her look exactly like one. Pineapple was the brains and the most sensible of our bunch. The number was sealed and we agreed not to recruit any others who tried to join. Pineapple was our leader, the nice bully, the person who knew everything, and we all trusted her. Whatever Pineapple said we believed in. Inside she had fairness and a heart of gold, which did not fit her untimely fate years later.

Jules and I fancied lads as well as ourselves and other girls (just to look at admiringly). We each went our own ways regarding dates and Jules’ adventures into her ‘gangsta’ neighbourhoods brought a level of deceit. I had discovered that she had been with a lad and they had sex with intercourse, which meant she had now lost her virginity. I felt sick and this caused us to break up as lovers. One of many fall-outs that we had endured. I wondered why I needed to keep my virginity. It seemed pointless to hold onto it, and I was curious to have sex with a man. I wanted to know what it was all about and to actually confirm reports that it was totally amazing.

Sex with boyfriends I dated must have been boring to them. A kiss and a sensual grope was all I would usually offer, and on occasions, consent to us both having relief by letting them finger me and in return I would wank them, which allowed me to study their cocks and watch how they ejaculated. Safe sex with lads was my hang up and I was in search of the ideal male lover, the one who I could trust to take away my virginity forever. I became fascinated with man cum, as it intrigued me as to why it varied so much in amounts and its consistency (I also learned to love the feel of it). I would never do oral sex on them. They carried diseases and I didn’t want to catch anything. The humanities lesson told us all quite clearly that a person’s future sex life could be ruined by venereal diseases if we weren’t too careful. Those photographs they shown us was enough to deter me.

Soon Jules and I made up and I told her my goal was to lose my virginity to someone caring and mature. The lads I knew were not exactly what I had in mind. Jules was passive about it, fighting her addiction atlast, but hooked on tobacco rather than spliffs. Her breath was getting intolerable and I insisted she brush her teeth before she even thought of putting tongue anywhere near me, kissing or otherwise.

Pineapple became a great teacher for all of us. She had her career set on either social health or social services. She became an even greater guru to me with her make sense morals which I believed in. I was falling secretly in love with her, but I kept those emotions at bay and admired everything about her instead. She was one of the first to notice that Jules and I were having a lesbian affair, as she called it. She didn’t object and was happy for us, which made me respect her even more.
 
Sienna said:
Thread historicals:

From October 2007:
*AJ in this diary is TRT*

A Story To Be Told

My biographical diary...

Chapter One :The Present (as was October 2007)
Click to expand...


Lovely story Sienna. It seems like your life exactly. I knew AJ was TRT! :)

CONGRATULATIONS ON 500 PAGES!!!!! If I responded to your post on our differing music preferences, I would be the first on page 500

Remember, I'll be online later...... ;)

Dancing Sex Machine
 
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