I had married young, and I stuck with my husband even when it became obvious that our marriage was crumbling. I didn’t hold it against Jack. We’d just been too different in the end.

But when we parted, it left me with a sexual biography with only one chapter. I was still young, but I didn’t have a clue how to attract a new man. I’d lost all my flirting skills.

I was afraid of sinking into a lonely rut. I felt like if I didn’t do something soon, I’d become permanently gun-shy. There wasn’t anyone in my social circle who interested me. What I needed, I figured, was a completely fresh start. Meet somebody totally new. Do something a little crazy, maybe.

As I dressed to go out to a club, I tried not to let myself feel too ridiculous. I chose a short black dress and put a little extra attention into my hair. Studying the results in a full-length mirror, I thought I looked pretty damn hot. But then again, I wasn’t trying to entice me. The whole plan tonight was to attract a stranger. I wasn’t even necessarily looking for sex. I just needed to find out if I still counted as a viable woman who was worthy of someone else’s sexual attention.

Excitement and anxiety mingled in me as I arrived at the club. Seeing that I was a few years older than most of the people waiting in the line, I almost jumped back in the taxi I had arrived in and fled the scene.

But I stayed steadfast, waited my turn, and was admitted to the warehouse-sized venue. Inside it was all whirling lights and pounding music. I wondered if maybe I should have picked someplace quieter for my first post-marital venture. Yet the place’s energy was exhilarating. The dance floor was filled with gyrating bodies.

There was also an unmistakable sexual vibe to the place. People came here to meet other people. If I was looking for a hook-up, or at least some attention, this was a good place to start.

I nerved myself up with a drink at the bar. I looked around at the males, trying not to be obvious. No one seemed to be looking back at me. I didn’t let myself despair. Knocking back my drink, I hit the dance floor.

It was a kind of free-for-all. People danced alone or in groups, or they switched partners so often you couldn’t tell if they were with anybody or not. I twirled among the sea of strangers, dancing opposite one person, then another. Whenever it was a guy, I made sure to check him out. If he was hot, I moved closer to him, hoping to brush his body and maybe get some clear sign from him. Everybody was friendly, but none of the men paid that extra kind of attention to me that I craved.

It started to get frustrating, then it became downright discouraging. Was I too old for this crowd? Was I just somehow out of step with the world? Whatever, this endeavour of mine seemed hopeless. I decided to call it quits.

I called for a cab and waited outside the club. Within minutes, a car rolled up. A woman was driving. She called out my name, and I got in the back. I told her my home address.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” she said. “I live three blocks from there. I can go right home afterward.” She had a cheery voice. Her face looked pretty in profile. Also, she was my age, which was refreshing.

“Tough night?” I asked on impulse.

She shrugged. “Hard to tell one from the next.”

“Amen,” I muttered.

As we cruised along the dark streets, I saw her eyes in the rear-view. Finally, she said, “You’re kinda cute.”

It caught me off-guard. “Thanks,” I said automatically.

“I like your dress,” the driver went on. “I bet it would look great on my bedroom floor. Oh! Sorry, sorry. Inappropriate!” But there was laughter in her voice.

I wasn’t offended. Her manner was amiable. I realized that if a man had said those comments, I probably would have taken offense. And was she serious? Did she find me attractive?

I had nothing to show for my “adventurous” night. I hadn’t even blipped on any man’s radar. Suddenly the urge to do something drastic overcame me. I reached up and pulled the top of my black dress down, revealing my bare breasts. My heart was beating fast as I thrusted them forward.

“Wow!” the driver yelped, hitting the brakes. She stopped in the middle of an empty street and spun around, eyes wide, tongue hanging out. “Fuck, you’ve got gorgeous tits! I could suck on those forever.”

A primal surge of excitement welled up in me. It bypassed all my filters. I’d gotten the attention I’d been looking for, and my flesh tingled. My pussy dampened. I’d never done anything sexual with a woman before.

“Then let’s go somewhere,” I heard myself say.

Her place was closer, so she raced us there. On the way I introduced myself as Vera. Her name was Jenny. We paused to kiss on the way up the steps to her apartment. It wasn’t a friendly girly peck, either. She shoved her tongue in my mouth. My excitement only increased.

As we got inside, her hands were moving all over me. I found my hands roving as well. Jenny had a body that was both soft and wiry. With a sense of wonder I groped her breasts through her top—the first time I’d ever done such a thing. We kissed ferociously as we made for her bedroom. She was flinging off clothing. Boldly, I did the same.

We arrived naked at the foot of her bed. The air seemed to crackle around us. I beheld her nude beauty. She had lush tits and a taut ass. Her eyes blazed with desire, and her hairless pussy gleamed.

Together we tumbled onto the bed. She yanked me into an embrace, and our mouths grinded together once more. I kissed her deeply, delving into her mouth with my tongue. I pressed my body tightly to hers. Her skin was so smooth. My hands glided over the silken flesh. The feminine terrain was so unfamiliar but so enticing. How different this was from lying with a man.

But I was stunned to find it was no less arousing. Marriage had sheltered me. Now I saw there was a whole world of carnal possibilities that I knew next to nothing about. I promised myself that tonight, I would start to learn.

Jenny rolled on top of me. I liked her lean weight. She pressed her crotch on mine, sending a sparkling wave of joy through me. I groped her ass, pulling her tighter against me. She licked my throat, then moved down to my breasts.

She feasted on them. My nipples, already stiff, grew harder and more stimulated as she batted them with her tongue, then sucked on them, then nibbled. Hot needles of pleasure ran up my body.

After getting her fill, she shifted further down. Her kissing lips crossed my belly. I opened my legs and she slipped between them. Lifting my head, I watched in wonder as her mouth moved hungrily toward my wet, waiting pussy. This, then, would be the crossed-line moment. If she licked my pussy that made me officially bi. A final flutter of stupid anxiety shivered through me and vanished.

I moaned as I felt her hot breath on my pussy lips. Then her tongue unfurled and swiped my cleft from bottom to top. My hips jerked underneath me. Her tongue speared inside me. Warmth seethed outward from the contact, finding its way into every part of me.

She went unerringly to my clit’s pulsing nub. As she lapped at me, the ecstasy grew. There was nothing I could do—or wanted to do—to stop it. My hands clawed the bed on each side. My ass lifted into the air. I humped on her face and came with a cry.

In the aftermath I had only one thought: I must eat her, too. Jenny helpfully switched positions with me. I knelt between her smooth thighs. The glistening stripe of her pussy laid before me, beckoning. This wasn’t duty. I desperately wanted to do this. I lowered my mouth toward her, about to get my first pure taste of a woman.

Maybe this was the crossed line into bi-hood, I thought as my lips touched her. Jenny wriggled at the contact. I ran my tongue over her folds, tasting her moisture. I knew how I liked having my pussy eaten. All I needed to do was reverse-engineer the process.

I parted her lips with my fingers and slipped my tongue inside. She was so warm, so wet. Her clit awaited me, and I lavished it with my tongue. I felt her pulse. Suddenly her thighs were tightening around my shoulders.

When she came, she flooded my mouth. I drank the juice eagerly, feeling it all the way as it went down. I came up panting, chin dripping, feeling an immense pride. My first pussy-eating was a success.

I didn’t know what came next, but Jenny had an idea. She wanted to scissor. I tried to hide my first-hand unfamiliarity with the position. I leaned back on my hands, copying her. We fit our legs together, sliding forward until our drenched pussies could make contact.

For the first seconds it seemed awkward, then I fell into the rhythm. With my arms braced behind me I had leverage to shove my pelvis forward.

Jenny was limber. So was I. We writhed and squirmed and grunted and groaned. I gazed at her womanly beauty, watched her tits heave. I saw her face twist in mounting pleasure. I felt the same response in me.

We humped hard at each other. Suddenly she cried out. I was seconds behind her. Together we thrashed through our mutual orgasm. Bliss overwhelmed me, all the sweeter for sharing it with another woman.

Afterward, I told Jenny this had been my first lesbian experience. She gasped in total disbelief. Then she kissed me tenderly and said, “I hope it’s not your last. Actually, I hope it’s not our last time, too.”