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When It All Began…A Tale From the Sexier Side

Skinny, tall, bathed in patchouly, she smiled as I approached. Little did I know she was wearing tiny, booty-bearing Calvin Klein panties under her boyish jeans. She wore them for me. She greeted me with a strong embrace. That dimpled smile gleamed with sexiness. Nervous as shit, I did not let on that I changed my outfit six times before I drove to her apartment.

She picked me up and twirled me around as she carried me into the door. Her apartment was clean and a candle flickered on a large glass coffee table. We got cozy on the couch and she went to turn on some music. Portishead. She seduced me with Portishead. The ambiance was sensational.

The hours flew by and the conversation flowed. My nerves never really calmed down, but I was careful to play it cool. I didn’t want her to know I’ve had a crush on her since high school. As the time went by, we crept closer to one another. I could not fathom that this girl actually might like me.

I was getting incredibly turned on and the heat was rising. I wanted her. It took everything in me to not tear her clothes off.
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Then in one smooth, yet swift motion, our lips collided. The heat overtook me now and her mouth was beyond delectable. Evidently this beautiful girl felt it too, because her hands were making their way beneath my shirt. The scent of passion filled the air, and we joined together like one hot lava-filled volcano. I think she tried to trick me by buckling her belt to the side, but I must have showed up her game because I got them off with one hand, while my other hand was removing her bra, unveiling two incredibly perky, small pink breasts. We somehow made our way to the bedroom, where the rest of the clothes hit the floor.

I’ll never forget that she made a point to have the light on. This was a new side of confidence that I can’t remember experiencing before. This also allowed me to experience the sight of the most delicious body I’ve ever laid my eyes on. This girl was simply breathtaking. This is also where I discovered the teeny tiny panties, and the way the bottom of her cheeks hung out just a little. An image I can never forget.

We were wild. We were intense. I was still nervous, and convinced that I was all over the place. She felt fucking amazing, and tasted even better. We moved in a harmonious rhythm, like we had done this before. Like we had invented it. It was fucking-yes- but also so much more. Lovemaking? Maybe. But that would sound too much like a dyke fairytale. It was more like an event. And we bought the only front row tickets. A sold out performance. I swear fireworks went off when she came. And she returned the favor, sending a million of my nerve endings into orbit. Was she real?

The next morning I woke up in her bed. I looked around. She was not in the room. Oh my god. I’m in her bed. The girl I had dreamed about for years. And we just had incredible sex, then held each other all night long. I was tripping. Then came the flood of self doubt. I was instantly convinced this was a one night stand and the girl of my dreams didn’t really like me.

As I was starting to get dressed and prepare to drown in my sorrows somewhere else, she came into the room with a fresh cup of coffee- and placed a sweet, long kiss on my mouth. Again, that smile. Those dimples. She said she had an amazing night, she thanked me for staying over, and she asked when she could see me again. I couldn’t believe it.

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Well believe it. That night was the first night I spent with my wife. The girl of my dreams. The girl who made me nervous and rocked my world. I write about this now because last week was the eight year anniversary of that magical night. I remember everything about it. She was adorable and sexy. She is even more adorable and sexy now. Still has the smile and the dimples. I love this woman more and more every day. Happy anniversary, Beautiful.

 

It Went Too Fast, Love – a poem about heartbreak

If I could, I really would
Catch every tear that fell.
Though I know I really should
Accept that time will tell.

It was a lost cause,
But you’re not lost, love.
It was a past love,
It went too fast, love.

I imagine her expression,
As she quickly shut the door.
All too clear was her rejection.
I clean the pieces from the floor.

Strawberries fragrant in the air,
Strawberry scented, like her hair.

Tire tracks provide evidence,
Matching tread marks on my heart.
Spinning sick, it makes no sense.
There came an end before a start.

It was a lost cause,
But you’re not lost, love.
It was a past love,
It went too fast, love.

Her fingerprints left in the dust,
Silky strands clogged in the drain.
That skin was more than glowing lust,
Her ideals around this room remain.

Strawberries fragrant in the air,
Strawberry scented, like her hair.

Need an intervention of the soul.
May I have the will to dream?
Once was fire, now burned a hole.
Is this as broken as it seems?

It was a lost cause,
But you’re not lost, love.
It was a past love,
It went too fast, love.

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Our Family’s First Pride Festival

It was the day I had been waiting for. The day many of us dream of. The day I would proudly walk the streets of our local pride festival, but not alone, not slinging beers with friends, and not even hand in hand with some new cutie. But with my family. My beautiful wife and our sweet baby boy.

Long before we were even pregnant with our son, my wife and I talked about including our potential children in all of the lgbt events and festivities we participate in. How fun to stroll down the street of the pride fest, pushing a stroller, showing the world “I am a lesbian. And I am a parent!” Well, that fantasy came true yesterday afternoon.

A Whole New Kind of Club

What was quite interesting, that I would normally have never noticed, is the slew of other dyke moms out there! No joke, the streets were flooded with them yesterday. And the feeling you get when you exchange nods with one of these other women, sort of like a secret society of lesbo mothers symbolic head gesture, is really fantastic. When you step back and look at the bigger picture, how cool to be in a safe space, out in the open, as gay parents. What’s even better is not that we are gay parents, but we’re parents. Doing things parents do. Asking one another “how many months old is he?” Showing your baby the brightly colored rainbow flags, rubbing on extra sunscreen because the sun’s rays are extra fierce on baby skin.

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Why it Meant So Much

This particular pride festival took place in one of the smaller Metro Detroit cities near our home. It is not the big Motor City pride that is in downtown Detroit. The smaller, intimate festival was actually where my wife and I had reunited (after parting ways post-high school) eight years ago. I remember she was looking all hot and tanned, and we were both a bit tipsy. We were at the ripe age of 22, and we quickly fell wildly in love. It’s a story we enjoy telling, and we were both feeling sentimental bringing our sweet little bundle to the place that started it all.

The Great Divide

A slight twist of events occurred when attempting to meet up with our group of friends. Apparently something happens when you become a parent. That is, you’re interests differ in ways unexpected from your peers. While we were enjoying walking around absorbing the scenery, my (child-less) friends had interests in other alcohol-fueled directions. My wife and I found an outdoor table at this cute hipster fro-yo shop, while the gang was trying to make room for our stroller in the pub. We politely declined, and instead, introduced strawberries to our son for the first time. (He loved them by the way!) I suppose in past, had my friends and I spent pride in different arenas, I’d probably be disappointed. But, this time around, I wasn’t the least bit bothered. I respect that they want to do other things from what I hold a priority now. I loved doing the family thing with my favorite people.

Children Are the Future

It is so important for kids to experience pride the way that we do. Of course use your discretion on age appropriate activities, but let them see different kinds of people. Let them see there are other families like theirs- two moms or two dads. Show them different symbols and flags. Children really are our future. These young minds are developing new ideas as we speak. Hate is not something we are born with. Teach them about equality. Let them see love. Feel love. Human beings benefit from diversity. I stand firm that this is something I want my son to know. And by letting children attend pride events, parents are teaching the right message.

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This was definitely a unique way to experience the pride festival. I’ve been attending pride since I was 18, and I’m now in my 30’s. This year was different from all the rest. In the past, I was more into partying or shopping, or meeting new people. I feel like this time, we created a new milestone as a family. My heart is filled with warmth and love.

 

 

Two Sides of Mother’s Day

In today’s world, there are those who oppose my lifestyle, including celebrating Mother’s Day as a two mom family. And those who welcome us, and celebrate these miracles in life.

Surprise surprise. Not all people share our joy in having two mothers in which to celebrate Mother’s Day. The scene took place in Grandville, MI, where an anti-gay protester decided to stand on a busy highway corner with a sign reading, “Thank your mom today for not being gay”. The reactions of the crowd was priceless. A few cars honked in support, many cars stopped to give the woman their piece of mind, and there was even a slew of other corner dwellers, holding signs of their own. What occurred on top of all the lgbt support, was an angry woman, who demonstrated her opinion by throwing her slushie at the protester. Now, I don’t know if the slushie throwing was right, but I can certainly concur with the passion from the thrower. See the newsreel below.

 

In other news, my lovely wife and I got to celebrate our very first Mother’s Day! We didn’t have to deal with protesters or drama. We just enjoyed spending the day with our sweet little man. The three of us went out to breakfast and all the waitresses just swooned over his cuteness. When one waitress asked who the mother was, we replied, “both of us”, and she just said “I love that”, and smiled. I love being in a place where we can live as a normal family, and be comfortable being us. We then had the rest of the day to hang out together, to enjoy our amazing family. And you know, I absolutely wouldn’t have wanted it any other way!

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So there you have it. People who cannot accept the love and normalcy of a family like mine. I absolutely can’t wrap my head around it. Why go out of the way to bring fellow human beings down? Let’s work on loving one another and accepting that we are all worthy of the same things that hetero folks are. All of us mothers are one in the same- human- and we have one thing in common- our children. So on that note, I wish ALL mothers a Happy Mother’s Day. I hope it was a joyful one for you.

 

I Am the Other Mom and I am Proud

I had the privilege of staying home from work today to spend time with my four month old son. And let me tell you, this kid gave me a run for my money! His usually happy, easy-going nature transformed into one crabby little baby. He was so irritable and cranky today that it took all I had to try to soothe him. I learned another lesson in what it means to be a parent. I’m exhausted. And I’m happy. I’m so excited to be there to soothe him when he’s at his worst, to hold him when he’s in need of a nap, to provide smashed green beans and fill his belly. Sure, there will be rough moments, but I love every second. I am mommy.

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Gay Vet Denied Right For Wife To Be Buried By Her Side

74-year-old Navy veteran, Madelynn Taylor would like her wife to be buried with her in the Idaho State Veterans Cemetery, but officials will not allow it. Idaho doesn’t recognize her same sex marriage. She followed standard protocol, taking her discharge papers and marriage certificate to the Veterans Cemetery to apply to be buried there with her wife when she passes away, but was at a loss when they would not process her request. 

“I thought they’d say okay because in any federal cemetery it is okay, in any national cemetery,” Taylor said. “I could take the same documents and get buried in Arlington if I needed to, with no problems. But here they said it’s a state veterans cemetery, not a national cemetery. So we have to go by the state laws.”

 

Click this link to view a video clip on Taylor:

http://www.cbsnews.com/videos/idaho-veteran-cemetery-denies-same-sex-couple-joint-burial

Taylor and her late wife Jean Mixner married at a church retreat in Oregon in 1995, and formally in a California courthouse six years ago.

Taylor, who served six years in the Navy from 1958 to 1964, says that while she could be buried together in another veterans cemetery, she says as a longtime Idaho resident with brothers and sisters here, she doesn’t want to settle. She wants to be in Idaho’s Veterans Cemetery, with her wife by her side.

“I just feel that it’s the right place for me,” she says. “I want Jean with me.”

Source: LGBTQ Nation

 

12 Reasons Why Gay Marriage Will Ruin Society

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Yes it’s True, We’re Just Like You!

A day in the life of a lesbian, who just happens to be a mom, wife, and employee.

5:00 a.m. – The alarm wails from the dresser.
5:15 a.m. – The baby fusses in the monitor.
5:20 a.m. – Diaper change.
5:30 a.m. – Let the dog out.
5:40 a.m. – Finally go pee while my wife nurses the baby.
6:00 a.m. – Down two cups of coffee, kiss the wife as she runs out the door, and prepare my lunch.

Fast forward to 8:00 a.m. where the baby is dressed, has been fed a bottle, I am dressed, sporting a very rushed makeup job, and we are driving to the sitter’s house with a packed diaper bag, extra bottles, and my brain, which is sitting on the passenger seat beside me.

It’s busy season at the office, so by 10:30 a.m., I have spoken to 15 clients, handled four scheduling discrepancies, responded to a handful of emails, and derailed my boss from a potential crisis.

12:45 p.m. – Lunch is actually more like grazing as I mull over unedited documents.
2:30 p.m. – Place a laundry list of product orders.
5:00 p.m. – Breathe a sigh of relief and get the hell out of there.
5:12 p.m. – Rush hour traffic.

The very notion of seeing my baby boy at 5:45 p.m. is literally not able to be explained. Warmth and joy, people. Warmth and joy.

6:00 p.m. – Dinner with my wife. Compare notes of our work day. Feed the baby his green beans, which he manages to get everywhere.
6:25 p.m. – Feed dog.
6:35 p.m. – Check email, Facebook, other brain-sucks.
7:00 p.m. – Baby bath time. Jammies.
8:20 p.m. – Tuck in baby boy.
8:30 p.m. – Wife and I are glued to the couch, feet up, yawning with bloodshot eyes.
8:35 p.m. Flip through the channels. Scoff at Miley. Bitch about the weather. Shut it off.

And by 9:00 p.m., I’ve dragged myself to the shower, let the dog out, and packed the diaper bag for the morning. By 9:30 p.m., my lovely wife and I are both in bed, ready to do it all over again tomorrow.

So, there you have it. A day in the life of a lesbian. I scratch my ass and pick up pennies. I love my family. I have to force myself to work out. Pretty ‘normal’ if you ask me.

Equality For Michigan…Sort Of

Surely you have heard in the news or from friends that Michigan’s ban on same sex marriage was ruled unconstitutional last week. The update on this situation is that everything has been put on hold. What’s more is that hundreds of couples have actually gotten married once the ruling was announced. Check out this video to get a deeper look at what is going on in my state.

 

 

Victory for Michigan!

This means my marriage will be legally recognized. This means being able to adopt my son. This means being free and equal in my home state. My wife and I will eagerly watch and see as the process continues. Good vibes.

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