She was blonde and elegant, with a dollop of danger. Chandra was an agent in another firm at the time I was also doing real estate. We had met in passing at house showings and open houses. Once when our paths crossed, she asked if I wanted to do coffee sometime. I did. We had coffee the next morning.
It didn’t happen all at once and yet it did. I know now Chandra had had her sights on me for a while. And this was my “miracle year” of self-discovery — I was twenty-seven, exploring my sexuality, and willing.
One Saturday following an open house, we walked together to our cars, and Chandra put her arms around my waist, pulled me into her, and kissed me. She literally took my breath away, and I remember being so light-headed afterward that I had to pull off the road on my drive home.
She called me the next day, telling me she was going on vacation —and maybe I wouldn’t hear from her for a week. “About yesterday…” she started to say — making me afraid she was going to apologize and take the experience back — “I just wanted to tell you that really enjoyed …that.” There was silence, and I realized she had called to see if my feelings were mutual. I think I said back to her rather lamely, “For me too.” There were other words between us I forget now, but I remember at the end of the call I said to her, “Chandra, I’ve never been in anything like this before.” She paused then said, “I know..”
Chandra was some seven years older than me, richly experienced in real estate — and it became obvious experienced in other things as well. She was slightly taller than me, slender, and often wore blazer-skirt combos of cream linen and starched colored blouses underneath. Neat lines, no fussiness. Likewise, as long as I knew her, she kept her ash-blonde hair in a clean angled bob cut, curving under her chin. She had eyes that flashed a dangerous blue. She was the embodiment of a word I really didn’t know yet — alpha.
Back from vacation, Chandra called again, asking if I was going to a real estate seminar up in Denver. In fact I hadn’t planned to but now I told her yes I was. She suggested we might drive up together. It was a date.
During video sessions in a darkened room, Chandra reached over and took my hand in hers. On one break, she led me to an upper floor of the hotel, walked me into the stairwell, and took her sweet time bathing me in kisses. She said to me then and later that she loved how I blushed after she kissed me.
I was so wonderfully infatuated with her, but also ga-ga over my own sexual experience in this. Being touched and kissed by another woman felt surprisingly natural to me, and I exulted that I was in an adult relationship, finally exploring my confusing sexuality. Maybe as early as my senior year in college, I suspected I was bisexual, but my experiences, the few there were, had been with guys. This with Chandra was a full-blown lesbian romance, and I was giddy to be the love interest of a beautiful woman.
So, I didn’t pay attention to some details. One was that Chandra, it seems, had had a previous lesbian interest a year before, and maybe one before that. She was always discreet with me, and I presumed she had been with others. It wasn’t known generally, but someone close to me had some knowledge of it, and mentioned it to me. This didn’t bother me much at all — we all have had previous relationships.
The other “detail” was more substantial. Chandra was married. To a man. I knew this, kind of, sort of, though I guess I pushed it out of my mind in some way — early on she didn’t talk about him and perhaps I figured she and her husband were separated or something. But she wore a ring, so it was always there in front of me, or nudging my finger when Chandra and I held hands in dark rooms.
She was bold and aggressive with me, which I liked. While our relationship was never D/s, it’s perfectly clear looking back that I was the submissive and she was the dominant. My infatuation with Chandra was not only about the sapphic pleasure of us in dresses passionately making out in stairwells but also about my being captured by her, the lioness with the golden mane.
We had lunches and happy hours and on occasion went to a movie. So far, it was just the sensual effervescence of caresses and kisses, without the true opportunity for more. To this day, I don’t know if Chandra limited herself to just so much in her conquests of her other birds of prey. It seemed sometimes that was perhaps a protection of a sort if this came to light with her husband — the “nothing really happened” and “we did some kissing” defense.
But if that was a self-imposed rule, I think I helped Chandra break it.
In November that year (2012), Chandra and I attended a national realtors convention in Orlando. She booked our rooms, separate but adjoining.
I think we both knew what was going to happen there.