Czech Mate


Last year, I attended my cousin Stephanie’s wedding and the entire family turned out to celebrate the occasion. A solo attendee, I wanted to bring Lenka; in fact she was more than eager to go with me…

I thought my father’s relatives were stuffy and dry, especially the older matrons. I was comfortable with my sexuality but would they be accepting?

Usually I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought but for some unexplained reason I felt timid and shy around them. With all their money and “pinkies-up” attitude, I doubted they’d have an ounce of understanding.

Since my inclusion in the “family”, I heard the whispers about me at social functions.

“She’s so intelligent and pretty…why can’t she find a man, settle down and get married.”

My Aunt Gertrude was the most vociferous of the lot,

“Jordan dear, with you’re charm and good looks, you must be beating them off with a stick…”

“No auntie, no one special in my life,” I’d reply resignedly.

“Maybe you’re not looking in the right places,” she’d say with authority.

I was looking in the “right places”, only not the establishments frequented by men.

Since I last talked to my Aunt, I’d found that special someone but refused to bring Lenka, too afraid of the implications and the talk that would ensue. Such behavior was truly uncharacteristic of me but I felt very protective toward my lover.

After the festivities, my cousin Paul drove me to the train station. While we waited in the car for the express to New York City, my heart was heavy.

“I should have told them years ago…” I mumbled solemnly.

Of course, my immediate family, my mother and my aunt who helped raise me knew, as well as Paul and a few other close cousins. But, it wasn’t common knowledge. Oh, I’m sure many had their suspicions.

“…still can’t face up to them,” Paul said referring to the old dowager guard at the family affairs.

“No, I can’t…shit Paul, I really wanted to bring Lenka…”

“You shouldn’t give a flying fuck what those old crows think…” he said with some bitterness. Paul met Lenka at a party I gave in her honor. When her visa expired, it was Paul who volunteered to marry her for the sole purpose that she could remain in the USA with me. I owed him; I owed him big time for his gallant gesture.

Paul, more than anyone else, knew how very much in love I was with Lenka, and she with me.

The train rumbled into the station it was time to say goodbye. I felt some tears moisten my eyes and I looked at Paul with I’m sure a forlorn expression.

“Hey, don’t get upset…there’s always the next family gathering…you gonna be ok?” he asked with compassion.

I nodded my head and embraced Paul affectionately.

“Thanks Paul. Have I told you lately that I think you’re the best cousin a girl could have?” I uttered with sincerity.

“NO!” he stated loudly, then in a much gentler tone,

“You don’t have to say anything; love you, Jordan.”

“Love you too,” I blubbered on his shoulder and kissed his cheek.

The journey was uneventful and I lightly dozed with thoughts of Lenka just below the surface of my mind. It was past midnight when I exited the subway and hurriedly walked to my small apartment in the Village.

I entered as quiet as a church mouse and saw Lenka dozing on the sofa. Watching her sleep was a delight for me. The way her wavy blonde hair fell on the pillow, the contented, peaceful look on her face. The sight stirred my emotions and filled me with love for her.

I lightly kissed her and she turned towards me. A sound sleeper, Lenka rarely stirred but she slowly opened her eyes and smiled.

“Have a good time?” she asked with her lovely accent.

“Yes…but I missed you…”

“Well, you’re here with me now…” Lenka held out her arms and I fell into a loving embrace with her.

Before I met Lenka, I honestly never entertained the idea that I would find the “one”, the person I wanted to be with for the rest of my days. Yet, against all odds…

Later that night without disturbing Lenka, I got out of bed. In the tiny adjoining bedroom that I used as my office, I started typing on the computer.

For a long time, I wanted to put my thoughts in some logical order about my life. The light tapping on the keyboard echoed in the room as I gazed at the ceiling for inspiration. I thought about my childhood and the hardships that my mother endured trying to give me a normal upbringing. I adored her, still do and she is my best friend.

In The Beginning:

I was born on an Army post in North Dakota. Poor mom never made it to the base hospital and I entered the world on the living room floor; a healthy seven pound, three ounce baby girl. A big fan of daytime soaps, my mother named me after one of her favorite characters.

Dad was an NCO with a penchant for alcohol. After one year of horrific fights and physical abuse my mother left him for good. I saw him once in the twenty plus years escort bayan bursa since my mother divorced him. In all that time he made no effort to contact me or expressed a desire to be part of my life, even a very tiny part.

Dying from advanced liver disease, my dad had the pallid, ghostly appearance of an old man. I had no emotional connection to the person in the hospital bed and was unmoved by his passing.

When I was barely a year old, we moved to my aunts house in Chicago. Auntie gave me the love and caring of a parent. I guess you could say I had two mom’s.

My childhood, at least to me, seemed normal. I was a tomboy but liked girlie things; dolls, dresses, etc. I participated in sports, soccer and track in particular.

My aunt attended most of my athletic events because my mom managed a restaurant and worked six days a week to bring home the bacon. From my youngest years I never resented her not being there and instinctively knew that it was necessary.

Money always seemed to be tight and presents for Christmas and birthdays were simple and few. Usually to fulfill a school need or clothes so that I didn’t look like a farmer.

Auntie was the supplier of toys and I discovered there was no Santa at the very young age of seven when I spied her hiding gifts in the attic; the same gifts that I opened on Christmas Day

My teen years were confusing to me and I became very moody. Always thin and wiry for a girl, I gradually developed an athletic feminine body with B/C cup breasts.

I used writing as an outlet to express my feelings and my early work is sickly dark, gloomy and cynical.

Although I wasn’t sexually interested in boys, they appealed to me as friends. I had several that I was very close to; as close as my best girlfriends.

My true feelings about my sexuality didn’t emerge until an eighteen year old foreign exchange student from Germany came to live with us during my senior year of high school. Sigrid was a sleek and very sexy blonde.

In a short period of time, I became infatuated with her. and surprised myself by wondering what it would be like to have sex with her. I imagined kissing her and how her naked skin would feel against mine.

Since we shared the same bedroom it was virtually impossible to engage in any form of self-pleasure. When I was in dire need, I would go into the adjoining bathroom, turn on the faucet so that the sound of running water would drown out my moans and finger myself to orgasm. In hindsight, I wasn’t fooling anybody, especially Sigrid.

European’s have a much healthier attitude about sex and it was only a week or two past my eighteenth birthday that I found out. After one of my illicit, late night solo affairs, I was returning to my bed trying to be as quiet as possible when Sigrid’s voice startled me.

“I am a little cold. Would it be ok if I slept with you?” she asked in excellent English.

Chicago winters are brutal, and since my bedroom was on the third floor, precious little heat rose for any kind of comfort. For warmth during my childhood, I often slept snuggled against my mother in her bed.

Although I was extremely nervous, I heard myself reply with a shaky “yes”. Sigrid was wearing flannel pajamas but my bed was a single and we would undoubtedly have to cuddle to generate heat.

With her body close to mine, Sigrid put her arms around me and held me close. Her smell was intoxicating and had the hairs on the back of my neck standing straight-up.

“Umm…this is better…I feel warm now…”

Christ, I was so hot for her, I wanted to diddle myself. Nothing happened that night but it was sheer torture being that near to Sigrid.

Over the next several days, Sigrid really seemed to open up to me. She talked about her family back home and how she especially missed her friend Marthe.

“We are VERY GOOD friends, she stated with some underlying intent, and it was the emphasis on very good that alerted me.

“You have special friend?” she asked with a great deal of curiosity.

I did but not in the way she was intimating.

“No,” I said very shyly, and felt my face grow hot.

“You want be my special friend?” she asked in a sexy voice.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” I heard myself say, and looked deep into her blue eyes filled with desire.

Jesus, I sounded like an idiot but Sigrid was obviously experienced with girls.

That night I lingered in the bathroom for a long time before I got in bed next to Sigrid. My nerves were on edge but my desires were in high gear. When she pulled me toward her for an embrace I discovered she was naked. Jolts of electricity thundered to my pussy. I wanted her, in fact I never wanted anything more at that moment in my life.

Sigrid gazed at me with a heartfelt expression and pulled my lips to hers. The sensation was out of this world and I kissed her with ardor. She raised her upper body, keeping the blankets tented and in the sparse light, I saw her nipples bursa sinirsiz eskort harden.

My hands gently squeezed the mounds, half the size of mine but exceedingly firm and the texture of Sigrid’s skin was like the lining of a velvety glove.

“You like?” she breathed so sexily.

“Oh yeah,” I uttered with passion.

Sigrid offered a taut nipple to my hungry mouth and dear Lord, did I ever suckle her luscious tits. The turgid protuberance inflamed my lust and my libido went into hyper drive. I whipped the end with my tongue tip all the while pulling tenderly on the succulent stub between my lips.

Above me, Sigrid was gasping,


An intense yearning to lick her pussy overtook me and I turned my body so that I was facing south. Sigrid was mewling her want as I licked the skin on her hard belly until the silky hair of her mound grazed my cheek. I reached out and pulled her firm thighs closer and they opened for me as if on cue.

Like a blind man on a date, I used my lips and tongue to explore the musky wetness of Sigrid’s engorged slit. The tart flavor was similar to mine. I loved how the rich creamy fluid seeped into my mouth and down my gullet.

The Teutonic vixen was undulating her hips, keeping a steady motion against my slathering tongue. With my hands under her ass cheeks, I brought the sopping flesh closer and painted her crease with up and down swipes that ended with gentle licks over her clit.

Sigrid was moaning so loud I feared that my mother would hear us in the bedroom directly below. But, slowing down or stopping wasn’t an option because my body was on fire with lust.

My tongue went into high gear, relentlessly rasping the tender, swollen bud at the top of her slit. Sigrid’s motions intensified and I tightened my grip on her flexing butt. Her zesty juices bubbled and frothed from her hole and I gorged on the delicious nectar.

As I ravenously lathed her sopping slice, Sigrid groaned words in German that I didn’t understand. My hunger for her pussy intensified and I shamelessly sucked/licked her inflamed clit until I sensed her body stiffen and quake. She’s cumming, my mind informed me and I felt her hand on the back of my head as she mashed my face into her drenched sex.

When I raised my head, I smiled at her. Sigrid’s fluids were dripping off my chin and I used the back of my hand to wipe away the drops. A dreamy, almost faraway look graced her pretty visage as an aura of accomplishment pervaded my being.

Sigrid gazed affectionately at me and took me in her arms. We exchanged tender kisses and I experienced the powerful feeling of closeness with another human being. When I told her it was my first time a look of astonishment washed over her countenance

“I do not believe this is first time for you,” she stated with surprise.

Shyly, I nodded my head yes. I had taken to girl on girl love like a fish to water.

Sigrid took me to the dizzying heights of sexual rapture. She trailed soft wet kisses over my body, suckled my needy breasts and devoured my pulsating gash until I nearly feinted from the incredible orgasm that surged through my body.

Sigrid instructed me in the ways of Sapphic loving and I was a star pupil. The amorphous yearning that inhabited my being was finally out in the open. Girls were my thing, my ticket to a happy sex life and if I was lucky, maybe I’d find someone to love.

Not long after Sigrid and I embarked on our exploits, my mother cornered me in the kitchen one afternoon. Sigrid was on the girls volleyball team and at an away meet. Perfect timing, I thought cynically to myself afterwards.

“Jordan, would you like to tell me what’s going on upstairs at night…I hear the strangest noises coming from your bedroom…”

In typical mommy fashion, she went straight for the jugular.

“Ah…er…nothing mom…”

“Nothing? Sometimes I swear I’m hearing the soundtrack from a porn movie,” she stated emphatically.

Prior to Sigrid’s visit, my parent and I talked about my confused sexual feelings. As understanding as a mother could be, she insisted that over time I would identify them.

“Ok mom. It’s like this, Sigrid and me…” I started, but stopped.

Why I suddenly felt shame for my actions had me in a quandary.

“Nice and slow, start at the beginning…”

For the remainder of the afternoon, I forthrightly explained my relationship with Sigrid. In other words, I came clean and fessed up. My mother always told me honesty is the best policy and I wasn’t about to disappoint her. Anyway, I’m sure she had a very good notion as to the truth.

My mom proceeded to tell me that falling for someone, especially someone leaving in six months with little chance that I would ever see them again, was a good way to get my heart broken. It was sound advice and I heeded the warning.

My attraction to Sigrid was more on the level of a deep escort bayan friendship that involved sex but it never grew into love with all the trappings. And, I was sure she felt the same about me.

My sexual awakening was followed by a physical awakening. I admired Sigrid’s very fit, muscular form and asked her how I could obtain the same look. In the school gym after hours, she guided me through a workout that left me drenched in sweat but invigorated.

My involvement in Tae Kwon Do and Sigrid’s training program with heavy weights shaped my body until I was a sinewy 115 lbs. When I flexed in the mirror, I gasped. My body fat had dropped considerably and my muscles had real “pop” to them.

“Jesus, Sig…look at my biceps!” I crowed.

In fact, they looked bigger than hers but the beaming expression of pride on Sigrid’s face was the best compliment she could give me. I still follow her plan to this day. I’ve made some adjustments along the way but my hard body in a bikini has helped me bed some very hot women.

All too soon it was time for Sigrid to say goodbye and we spent her last night in each others arms. Our lovemaking was filled with passion and lasted until I saw the light pink glow of the early morning light invade my bedroom.

“I vill miss you, Jordan…you haf been very special friend to me,”

Damn, my eyes welled up and I couldn’t stop the flow of tears. Sigrid was my best friend, my lover and I knew that she cared about me very much. The feeling was mutual.

When Sigrid returned to Germany, my mother’s words rang true in my head; I missed her terribly and my heart ached to see her, to be with her, smell her lovely scent and feel her nude body on mine.

The College Years:

During my college days, I truly enjoyed bedding hot straight girls. It was challenging and fulfilling, especially when they would respond like it was the best thing that ever happened to them.

My first roommate Roxanne was an endearing, kindly soul. Mildly overweight by the standards of the day, she had an innocent sexuality that appealed to me. At the time, I doubted she had any experience with boys or girls.

I was changing into my workout clothes one morning when I spied her discreetly checking me out. There was dead quiet in the room when the sudden sound of her voice startled me.

“Jordon…I hope you don’t mind me asking…how did you get into such good shape?…I mean…you have muscles but they look great on you…I’m sorry I’m not making much sense…It’s just…I’d like to look like you…”

I wasted no time in explaining to Roxanne how I maintained my physique and that it was entirely possible for her to achieve the same results. For real shape changing results, weight training, cardio and proper nutrition were essential to a total makeover.

After I recommended several bodybuilding websites for her to checkout, Roxanne embarked on a journey of discovery that few have the stamina and commitment to complete. By the end of term I noticed a change; she had trimmed down considerably and her figure looked fetching. When we returned for spring semester, we settled into the routine of college and I observed that Roxanne seemed more outgoing and confident. Always shy about changing in front me, Roxie announced she was headed to the shower. As she peeled the clothes away and got down to her bra and panties, I couldn’t help but stare.

Roxanne’s body was undergoing a metamorphosis and was much leaner, tighter. Shit, the girl made my pussy twitch just looking at her. It won’t be long until I see some good muscular development, I silently mused.

Since our schedules usually conflicted, we saw little of each other but always found some time on the weekends to be gal pals. I enjoyed her company as she was sweet, charming and just about the nicest person I ever met.

Roxanne dated a few guys but nothing serious developed and if it did, I was unaware. Although she kept to herself about matters of the heart, she opened up on a few occasions, especially if she had a couple of drinks in her.

“I can’t believe I’m still a virgin,” she stated wistfully one night after we returned from a frat party.

“Girl…yer lookin’ hot! Give it time, it’ll happen,” I blurted out without thinking.

Roxanne regarded me curiously.

“Are you a vir…ya know what I mean,” she asked sheepishly.

Except for a well used vibrator, I guess I was in the technical sense, although I didn’t feel like one.

“I am,” I stated with a dose of humility.

“Gosh, yer kidding…with yer pretty face and bod…I’m shocked.”

Now it was my turn to feel sheepish. I needed to change the subject, and quickly.

“Hey, do ya think Kip’s interested,” I stated referring to one of the frat brothers she had a crush on.

“I was gonna tell ya sooner but he asked me out tonight…I guess that’s why I’m concerned about my lack of…you know…”

“Wow!” I was happy beyond words for her.

Kip was an attractive guy with a great personality and sense of humor. Roxanne saw him at a Sigma Chi mixer during fall semester but was too self-conscious about her physical appearance to start-up a conversation. Now that she was approaching hottie status, he noticed her first and they’d gotten very chummy in a short period of time.