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An engagement is the most exciting thing a young woman experiences. When my boyfriend Willard proposed to me, I was delirious with happiness.
He put a large diamond on my hand, and said. “Gwen, I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”
I shook with joy and wept while saying ‘yes’! Of course you feel like a princess for a minute, and then comes the joy of planning–and arguing with Mom and Willard–and drunken bachelor parties.
I called my best friend Margarita, who is extremely pretty and more level headed than me. She is my rock when the waters are troubled. I can’t hear think about her and not want to feel like having tequila drinks!
“Willard and I are engaged. Isn’t that incredible? I need your help! Will you be my maid of honor?” I asked her.
Of course she said ‘yes.’ She is the greatest friend a girl could have!
She is a very tall brunette with seductive eyes and a great ass. She gets a lot of guys’ attention, but never gets serious. I would cry if somebody married her and took her away. Margarita looks good in pajamas or jeans, but I need to work a little harder. I envy that she is so pretty. She has a Latina exotic/ erotic thing going on—beautiful hair, big dark eyes and a gorgeous body.
I love to shop and dress well. The cosmetics department and clothes boutiques are my hangouts.
A girl just has to look her best. I went to college and my big boobs are just the icing on the cake. I am a curvy blonde…a smart one. Margarita calls me a ‘pistol’ because I am so high energy. She always put up with all my drama, and I think she is my greatest friend.
I hope Willard doesn’t put the hammer down on my shopping and spending habits. I need my girl-time! I hope he doesn’t get bossy with me. Or demand too many blowjobs! I’d be happy to give him one right now.
“You gotta see the ring! It’s massive! I knew he had money, but obviously his family is behind him. It would be so gauche to ask how much he spent, but I figure it’s at least $5000!”
“Gwen, you should get it appraised when you go shopping for his wedding band,” said Margarita, always the cool cucumber.
“Touché! You are extraordinary, Margarita. I could kiss you.”
“Gwen, did you actually call me even before you called your own Mom?” she asked.
“Yes, I did. You and I are so inseparable, right now. I actually don’t know how I’ll get married and then only see you once or twice a week. Oh, that makes me sad!”
“We will have a long grueling process getting your wedding off the ground. You will be sick of me when it’s all done.”
“Never, Margarita, “I said. “Honestly, I could never be sick of you. I love you as much as Willard.”
“Ok, sweetie. Let’s meet at the jewelers, and then go shopping and then drink margaritas! I always end up drinking when I’m with you.”
“Awesome! Sounds like a plan.”
So we met at the Jewelers. I was waiting by the curb as she was parking her in her sexy Miata convertible. She dashed out of the driver’s seat and came running to me, hugging me tight.
“Hi, Margarita!” I enthused. “I am so glad you could meet me here right now. I just assumed that you would be my maid of honor, but I haven’t asked you formally. Please, Margarita, will you be my maid of honor?”
“Shush girlfriend, I’m already in. I’d do anything you ask me to,” pledged Margarita.
“Gosh, you are so cool. After this we can get lingerie for my trousseau.” I bubbled. “I should buy you something as a gift for helping me so much.”
The woman behind the counter looked at us and smiled. She was a short-haired conservative looking woman, but was warm, friendly. “Hello ladies, what can I assist you with today? I assume you’ve just gotten that beautiful ring?” she asked.
“Yes, isn’t it awesome? I just got engaged, and I need to see wedding bands to give to my fiancé, Willard.”
“I have just the thing,” proclaimed the sales lady. “We have a special True Love Ring with a star-burst design.”
“I actually love it.” I giggled. “What do you think, Margarita?”
The sales lady continued, “The gold symbolizes purity, and this is 20 carat gold. The round shape of the ring symbolizes love for all eternity, but this ring has something extra. The star-burst lights up for those with True Love. Whoever has this ring placed this on their finger, and is really in passionate love will glow extra bright. Try it.”
“Do you like it, Margarita?” I inquired, as I picked up the ring from its holder.
“Yes, it is really incredible,” said Margarita in a hushed voice.
I picked up the ring and slipped it on Margarita’s left hand ring finger, and the sales lady looked alarmed. “Oh, you weren’t supposed…” She stopped herself in mid-sentence.
“Oh, I wasn’t supposed to put it on her?” I stammered confusedly.
We all watched amazed as the ring glowed brightly. It shone brilliantly, even brighter than my expensive diamond. It was like one of those movies where some ghost or alien produces a glowing super pure white light.
The sales lady said, in shock. amsterdam shemale “I’ve never seen it do that before! That is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. We’ve been selling these for a year and they glow a little, but this is …is…amazing. This ring is supposed to be a test of love.”
Margarita looked so beautiful in the light, and her eyes were little tears in the corner.
“Oh, we are totally best friends,” I said trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m sure that Willard will light up the ring just as much, or maybe pretty close.”
“No, don’t expect it anywhere near that bright,” said the sales lady. “Bring Mr. Wonderful over here as soon as you can. We can resize it or whatever, but I want to meet this fiancé of yours.”
Ok, I looked at a few other rings and then we went to buy lingerie. I left my car parked and we went together in Margarita’s convertible. I love the wind in my hair, but it was a little cold, and I noticed my own goose bumps and hardened nipples. I noticed the same thing going on with Margarita.
We went into the lingerie shop and picked out some sexy things. As we were taking them into the dressing room, a crabby sales woman barked “If you try on panties you must buy them, unless you put them on top of your old panties.”
We heard giggling as we entered the dressing room area. There was a strange musky odor and it occurred to me that it was a sex smell. I wondered if patrons were fooling around in the next dressing room. Margarita seemed unfazed by those occurrences and started to organize the lingerie and unhook them from the clothes hangers.
“Don’t you smell something funky, Margarita?” I whispered.
“No, not particularly,” she said. “This one is my favorite. Gwen, are you going to try this thong over your old panties?”
“No, I’m sure I will like them,” I said as I stripped off my slacks and my panties. I noticed that Margarita was watching me very closely. We’d been naked in front of each other before, but somehow this was different. She took my old slacks and panties and hung them. “Oh, you are trimming your pubes,” she commented, looking at my pussy.
“Well, yea, I figured if we are going lingerie shopping, I had to be prepared.” When the thong panties were up on me and snug, Margarita reached out to my hip as if to smooth out a wrinkle, but it was only skin she touched. Her cold fingertip made me tingle.
“Wow, they are really revealing, Gwen. I think they are hot. Your body looks gorgeous.”
Just then we heard a female voice moaning from the next dressing booth. “Mmmm, Oh…Just like that,” someone called out. I couldn’t believe that we were eavesdropping on people having sex in the dressing room.
“What is that? Do you think they are having sex?” I whispered.
“Why don’t you try the teddy on?” said Margarita, staying on task, ignoring the neighbors’ indiscretions. Like I said…she is a cool cucumber.
“Don’t you think those noises are strange, Margarita? Are they lesbians?” I asked while I stripped off my blouse and bra.
Now I stood only in my thong panties, and I watched Jeanette looking up and down my body. She wasn’t making any eye contact with me. She was just ogling my breasts and tight ass straining against the provocative thong. I began to have my doubts about Margarita’s sexuality.
I thought about the strange glow of the True Love Ring. Why did it glow for Margarita? Does she have a lesbian crush on me? Oh. I must be imaging things about her. If I don’t know everything about her now, then I’m not a very good friend. I hurried to put the teddy on to cover my hardening nipples.
We heard a bang from the next booth and then someone shouted “Oh, my god, Oh, Ah!” That really sounded like someone having an orgasm. She cried,
“I’m cumming!, ah, ah, ahhhhhh!”
Margarita was giggling, entertained. That I always had called her a cool cucumber had new connotations.
“C’mon, Margarita. We gotta get outta here.” I commanded. I don’t know if I was over-reacting. I felt threatened somehow.
I grabbed the lingerie, and made a beeline for the cash register, hastily choosing a thing or two.
As I stood at the counter nervously, I started apologizing, “Oh, Margarita, I forgot about buying you something, too. I am sorry. Do you know what you want? Or maybe we should come back here another time. Or I could pay for a gift card now for you.”
“Gwen, don’t worry about it,” she stoically, sounding like a martyr.
“Ok, I will buy the gift card now and then we can still come back together.” I reasoned. “And let’s skip the margaritas.”
My mood was ruined. Margarita dropped me off at my car and I hurried over to talk to Willard. I had to confide in him about Margarita, the strange lesbian activities at the lingerie store, and talk about having him try on the wedding band.
“Hello, Gwen. You look ravishing as always,” said Willard.
“No, actually, I don’t feel so good, Willard. Margarita and I were trying to buy the trousseau lingerie and there were lesbians in the next changing rotterdam shemale booth having sex.”
“Wow, baby, that’s hot. That got you all worked up. Do you want to fool around now?”
“No! Willard, it’s upsetting to me! Don’t you get it? Margarita brought me to this store, and I wonder if she knows that lesbians are hooking up there. Maybe that’s why Margarita doesn’t maintain any boyfriend long term. She casually dates around. I thought I knew everything about her. I mean for god’s sake, I just invited her to be my maid of honor. Maybe she is a lesbian, or at least bi-curious.”
My mind wandered back, remembering situations with Margarita, like the time in high school that we practiced kissing each other, and how I stopped it when she began to feel my boobs. Or the time we were watching porn together and a hot lesbian scene came on, embarrassing me. Or the many times she took a bubble bath when I visited her apartment. She maximized every opportunity to show me her naked or bikini-clad body. She was a lesbian exhibitionist, and I thought it was just a comfort level.
“Gwen, I know the answer…we could have a three-way. Baby, that would be totally smoking!” blurted Willard, insensitively.
“Geez, Willard, you are an oaf! I can’t discuss anything with you. Ok, forget it,” I fumed.
“Let’s go to see the ring.” I was regretting confiding in Willard and divulging Margarita’s secrets.
In spite of the fact that Willard’s family is rich, he drives a sensible Chevy. Nothing exciting like Margarita’s Miata. We hopped in to go to Jewelers, and see the ring sales lady.
“Hello, young lady. Is this your beau? He is quite handsome,” said the sales lady, friendly as before.
“Did you want to try several different rings, or just the one you saw before?” she said, perhaps prodding me to avoid the True Love Ring.
“No,” I stated bluntly. “No, ma’am, Willard will try on the True Love Ring.”
The sales lady averted her eyes in modesty. “Are you sure, honey?” she asked solemnly. She slowly pulled the ring holder out of the case and put it on the counter. I knew I was supposed to be the one to put it on his finger.
“Ok, Willard.” I sighed, very tense. “Let’s see how this goes.” I slid the ring on his finger and watched for a glow.
There was not even a flicker. Even the gold part looked dull on his hand. I had a sinking feeling about this guy I may be stuck with.
“This ring is very uncomfortable,” complained Willard. “It is small and feels like a woman’s ring. It makes me itch.” I thought these were all very bad signs.
The sales lady looked at me and said “Do you want to try some of the other rings?”
“Is there any point?” I asked her. I turned to Willard and said “C’mon Willard. We need to go.”
I dashed out of there and broke up with Willard in the car. I hollered, “Take me to my parents’ house, Willard. This can’t continue. We can’t get married. I just couldn’t imagine being married to you the rest of my life.”
“Gwen, you will be back. I know you are just having PMS,” he said dismissively as he pulled the car into my parents’ driveway. Mr. Sensitive.
“No, you bastard, I am not a second class citizen. You treat me poorly. I am not your soul mate, Willard. In fact, we don’t really get along.”
“Ok, lesbo, are you going to fuck Margarita now?” cursed Willard. “Are planning on giving my diamond ring back?” How did he arrive at that nasty accusation?
“I will think about it.” I said triumphantly, as I hopped out and slammed the car door, realizing that it was ambiguous which question I was answering. Was I bi-curious? Could I actually have sex with a woman?
He rolled down his window and shouted so the whole neighborhood could hear it. “You fucking cunt! You better return that ring otherwise you will hear from our attorney!”
My parents were dismayed at Willard’s disgraceful behavior. “It’s better to find out now. Don’t worry. This is a blessing.”
“Mom, I am so sorry that I brought that guy into my life, and that he acted that way. I can’t tolerate immaturity like that. The wedding is off.”
When I told her about the possibility of Margarita being gay, she said, “Oh, I always thought she was a lesbian. Why do think we never allowed you to have sleepovers with her? We saw how she looked at you. This may have been bubbling under the surface for 10 years. But we accept you — whatever you do. Our love is unconditional, Gwennie. Just pray for everyone, especially Margarita.”
I had always thought Mom was ‘out of it,’ being fairly religious, but today her insight surprised me. Was she giving me tacit approval to explore a lesbian relationship?
Mom invited me for dinner, but I told her I wasn’t hungry. I went home to my apartment and dropped into a deep sleep before 8 p.m.
That night I had strange dreams. I dreamed that I was wandering the lingerie store and I was hearing sex noises again. As I opened one dressing room door, I saw Margarita’s face with a woman between her legs giving her oral sex. She blog shemale was enjoying it, until she saw me.
Then the dream got strange. She called out to me, except I wasn’t me. “Willard,” she called me. “No, this isn’t what it seems. I can explain.” So in this bizarre dream, I must have become Willard, like an astral projection.
Then the girl who was eating her pussy turned her head around, and it was me! I was between her legs with sex juice all over my cheeks. Why would I picture myself eating pussy? What a disturbing dream! Could I really discard heterosexuality, just the way that I discarded Willard?
Identities, times and locations are often blurred in dreams. I sat up in my bed awakened by this lesbian fantasy that was so vivid it took me a moment to realize that it wasn’t real.
I realized that I was extremely horny, and I rarely am awake at this hour.
I pulled my vibrator out of the bed stand and buzzed it on my pussy. I spread my vagina lips and ran the vibrator up beside my clitoris. It made a whirring noise as I felt the blessed tingling. I closed my eyes and all I could see was Margarita’s pretty face, as if she were right there watching me. I couldn’t stop, as I became more aroused and my clitoris became more engorged.
I furiously rubbed my clit directly now, and the room became so warm that I was sweating on my bed sheets. I was becoming short of breath as I stroked and swirled myself for sweet relief. My orgasm was approaching and then would wane, disappearing as distracting stressful thoughts intruded. But those delays and re-approaches to the climax made it more urgent. I was grunting and moaning, “Uh, uh, uh,” I was groaning so loud that I was afraid that the neighbors might hear.
I inserted the vibrator into my hole and then rolled over face down to hump the bed. I imagined having sex with Margarita and eating another woman’s pussy. I fixed this thought in my mind while I finally put it over the top.
Everything muscle in my pelvic area convulsed repeatedly, including my anal muscles. It was the most intense orgasm at my own hand ever. I spewed a thick flow of cream all over the sheets. What a huge wet-spot! I actually felt proud of myself to be so sexual and powerful. I believe that I could be bi-sexual. I would need to confront Margarita. I drifted to an uneasy sleep for a few hours.
I woke up shuddering and sweating. My heart was pounding. I looked at the alarm clock and it was 4:22 a.m. I got out of bed and turned on the laptop.
I read an e-mail from my Mom at 9 p.m., saying
“Just checking up on you. I hope you are ok…Love Mom.” I got an spam e-mail from a dating website. “Looking for True Love?”
And then two hours later, I got a ‘book’, a massive e-mail from Margarita:
Gwen, You are my dearest friend and I have been hiding things from you for so long. It is so painful to finally tell the truth, but here it is.
When you told me you were getting married, I resigned myself to perpetuating the situation that I’ve hid so long.. I want you as my friend and if you knew the truth I was afraid to lose you in my life.
My secret is my sexual orientation. I am gay, and I have had a crush on you since high school. It makes me happy when you call me, or we go shopping or just text each other. I know you rely on me for so much companionship and support, and I feel the same way, too. You are my joy and sunshine, and I never want to jeopardize that, Gwen. I love you with all my heart.
When I had to show up to a party with a date, I would bring any guy I could find, just an acquaintance or blind date. When you asked if I was seeing anyone, I told you Chris, or Robin or Dana, but those were actually women. I tried to find someone who wasn’t you, but nothing compares to you.
I realize that being totally honest now doesn’t make up for all the lies, and cover-up. I hope I can continue to be a part of your life, just as before. I will eternally be your friend.
Though I know I have hurt you, given enough time we can be inseparable friends again. Just remember that love and time heals everything. Do you forgive me, Gwen?
Love always, Margarita xoxo
I read the letter three times, until I realized that my pussy was dripping wet. While I tried to sort my thoughts and feelings, my aroused pussy had made the decision obvious.
In spite of the ridiculous, pre-dawn hour, I wanted to barge in on Margarita and attempt to seduce her, or let her seduce me. The charade was over. This woman loves me and I was going to thank her sexually.
I dressed in a cute blouse with no bra, and thong panties under my Capri pants. My nipples were rock hard driving over in the pre-daybreak air. Even though it was very early in the morning, I was energized and fully wide awake. I knocked on her door several times. After several minutes, I heard some shuffling and then Margarita peered through the security hole in the door and opened up.
“Humph,” she said, still too sleepy to say anything coherent. “Gwen, whadya doing here?”
“Sorry to come over so early. I came over here to beg your forgiveness Margarita. I never knew how you felt. I was too caught up in my own situation to realize that I’d found such a soul mate right under my nose. I am sorry I took you for granted.”
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