Dragged Into A Lesbian Relationship

Excuse me if I get a bit long winded. I was pulled into my bosses life kicking and screaming. She wanted me with her, didn't trust me living alone. The pandemic sealed it, I moved in with her. I don't think you can explain what it is when your boss, another woman, wants you in bed with her and kisses you on the mouth and puts her hand on your chest. We were stuck at home, she kissed and made love to my pussy. And I had to reciprocate. One morning, after coffee, she sat on the table in front of me and opened her legs for me to have my oyster.

By the time the pandemic ended I was ready to get a place of my own again. But that wasn't ever going to happen. I was tied to her apron strings and I was as good as married to her. The day I got married with her for real I stood in front of the mirror asking myself what had happened. I looked at the inside of my wrist with the lesbian interlocking gender symbol, with her initials in circle and my initials in the other one. She has the same tattoo on the inside of her wrist. A wedding g*ft.

Sex is still vibrant. It's the center of our relationship. Sex, night and day. Its been seven years since I had a penis in me. And that's the price you pay for being a lesbian.