What I Think About When I Think About Her Lesbian Days.

As has been discussed previously, Violet is into women. I would say WAS, but we all know that this isn't something that just dissipates. Also, if you watch any form of entertainment, go for a walk or out in public at all with my wife, you quickly realize how true this still is.

While I've expressed great interest in Violet regaling me with tales of her lesbian days, and while she has indulged me several times, I don't think she fully comprehends just how much I fantasize about the thought of her with a woman.

To be fair, a lot of it is rooted in this image of a younger version of my wife. She's always had a hunger for sex, and it's led her in many interesting directions, from sucking innumerable cocks (seriously, she can't even calculate a number) to gorging on pussy, threesomes to girly parties, one night stands to public masturbation. Imagine it, it's been done.

And it's because of this that so often, my mind takes me back to the idea of a younger her. She, fully slutty and insatiable, hitting on a girl at a party, sneaking off to a secluded room, a bit drunk, diving face first into snatch.

She's eaten the pussies of random women, and even more impressively, some of her best friends, who, to this day, remain as such. It's now looked at as some shit they did when they were young. Like sneaking all the booze from the parent's bar, cutting class and sucking on each others' juices. 

My mind warps at the thought.

Let's just say that I didn't have the same teen experience. Sure, I hoped women like that existed in the world. In fact, I jerked off to the idea more times than you can count. But never did I imagine there were a pack of girls living an hour away from me, sucking, fingering and propelling one another to screaming orgasms.

Maybe it was better that I didn't. My horny brain would have been so full of envy and desire that it might just have shut down completely.

Shit, when I think of it now, it makes me insatiable. The juices running down her chin. Looking up at her friend with a wide, wet smile. The two of them laughing. Her friend bucking her body down, grinding Violet's tongue hard into her clit. Making her dart her folded tongue into her tight, waiting hole.

I imagine sleepover parties. As I'm sure many of us do. Yet I think somehow I'm not far off. I just know she's had more than one occasion where the girls all got together, compared their nubile breasts, then moved on to slipping a finger in. Rolling around on a big bed together, five, maybe six of them. Hands covered in pussy juice, glistening in the lamp light. Listening to terrible music. Laughing.

I can't tell you the number of times I've asked Violet to tell me about one of these instances. The slumber parties. The time she dated that crazy girl. The one night stand she had with some slut. And she has. Too many times to count. But they never last. They always diminish in my brain, leaving me with flickers of images and not the details that I so get off on.

Sure, I have her tell me stories about guys she's taken deep inside. Sure, those get me off as well. But man, there is something about the idea of a bunch of young, smart, funny, hot girls learning about what they want done to them. And not being afraid to just get it from each other.

So what's the point of all this? I'm getting there, hold on.

This is all to say that I'll end this with a hope that Violet will read this entry (are you kidding, of course that cum hungry slut will) and be inspired. She'll sit down and punch out a tale about one of these encounters. And in time, another. I want these written. Detailed. Pored over by her incredible mind and shaped into a masterpiece of sex.

I know she won't disappoint. She never does.

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