Steamy Dorm

by Kristine Robinson

  “I know, baby girl,” Shane said. “And I love how much your body quivers when you hold me.”

  They kissed and groped each other, and Billy said something about taking it to the restroom. There wasn't anything wrong with that, as far as Chelsea was concerned. She knew that she was going to have a blast with the two lesbians she was with once she got behind closed doors in the restroom with them. It was going to be glorious as they tongued each other, running their lips over each other's nipples.

  And that's exactly what happened. The reason they had chosen this particular bar to go to was because the bathrooms were a twisting maze of old, decadent steam rooms and saunas with Pine seats, and actual restroom facilities with different themes. It was part of the bar's schtick, the way that people did naughty things in the bathroom. It wasn't ever out in the open where someone could get in trouble, but that was partly because the bar had been sure to make the bathrooms very much friendly to people doing things they needed to hide. It really was a twisting maze, and people that came to the bar liked that. They wanted to be able to sneak off to the bathroom to make each other feel good, then sneak back to the bar.

  The girls stumbled into steam room and stripped naked after looking the door behind them. Part of the eroticism was being watched, because the glass always fogged up enough just to obscure facial features, but not enough to completely hide what was going on. People saw through the fog and could tell that there were the forms of three women intertwined beyond. It made Chelsea feel so hot to know that she was being watched by other sexual deviants passing by in the hall. Billy and Shane were really getting into touching and feeling Chelsea, and Chelsea loved it. It was one of the few times in her life she was glad to be inexperienced in something. If she had had experience with women she knew that she would look very differently at what was going on at present moment.

  As things stood, this was her first threesome with two other women, and she was excited about it. She was especially excited to have it happen in spot more or less specifically designed for such things to take place. There was a lot going on in other rooms, she could tell by the moaning and slapping noises, but all she could focus on was what was happening to her. It felt so good to be getting pleasured by two different women at once, and she knew it was going to feel even better when things really got underway.

  And soon they did. Things got hot and heavy as the steam in the steam room, swirling around them like a weightless fluid. It was amazing to feel Billy and Shane slip and slide all over her, Chelsea thought. And even more amazing when they slipped themselves into her. Chelsea wasn't sure what to say, but she wanted to dirty talk so bad. She also didn't know what Billy and Shane wanted to hear, and that was important when it came to dirty talk. Chelsea knew from experience how much her foul mouth could turn people off during sex, but she also knew how much it could get people going if it was something they enjoyed.

  “Oh my God,” Chelsea said. “I've never experienced anything like this before in my entire life. You two have to know how much this means to me. Strong women are so . . . sexy. And sexual.”

  Chelsea's voice trailed off as she was swept away by the feeling of fingers from four hands tickling and teasing her body all over. She couldn't believe this was something that she didn't do on a regular basis. It was like a carnival of sensation, something she hadn't known was possible. As she was swept away by her feelings, she thought about how she wanted to stay in the moment, but couldn't manage the feet of will. There was just too much overwhelming her.

  In the last few moments of her really being herself, Chelsea knew that part of the kick she was getting out the entire thing was being rebellious. It was crazy for her to think that her father was such a stuck up prick that he'd probably have a problem with her having fun with her friends, as if it was any of his concern. He needed to shut the fuck and stay out of her life; who was he to tell her who to fun with when he couldn't keep his pants on during work? Chelsea just found him too ridiculous to be taken seriously.

  “You think you've got it all figure out,” her father said. “And that's really what drives me crazy. There isn't any thought to anyone else, or the fact that you're pretty much wrong all of the time. When was the last time you were right? When you guessed true instead of false on one of your liberal arts tests in class? Get real. You don't know a God damn thing about the real world.”

  Her father was always like this, with everyone. Chelsea didn't know if it had to do with power, or the people power attracted. Her father had been a really nice guy, years ago, before he'd gotten into politics. But then something had changed. He'd started to spend more time looking in the mirror than he did at the face of his wife or child. Both Chelsea and her mother had noticed it. Something subtle in the change had kept them from addressing it, though. As if a silence had been bred in them that they never knew existed. It was hard to explain to other people without sounding like they were keeping something back, holding a piece of information in secret for some reason.

  Eventually, after the last scandal, her mother had quietly slipped out of their lives. Chelsea had decided to stay. She thought that the biggest reason her mother had left was being embarrassed to have been outed as not enough for her husband. It made Chelsea never want to get married, and although she knew not all men were like her father, it was hard not to see a little bit of her father in every man. She knew that men had a great capacity for apathy and hurtfulness. She also knew how they loved to accuse women of unfaithfulness and treachery.

  It wasn't always the women who were so, though. Chelsea had seen her father, time and again, lie for no other reason than it suited him to do so in those given moments. She knew now that he would lie about anything, even the smallest thing, without hesitation. Whenever he wanted to pass on the truth, he was incapable, because when the truth passed through him it seemed to be lost. It was as if he was some kind of human relay station that had been corrupted. And now, incapable of relaying the message, he knew he had to lead men in order to be accepted by him. That was what Chelsea thought, anyway. He had a need for power that was driven by a need not only to fit in, but be respected. And he couldn't imagine another way, or a better way, even though he worked shoulder and shoulder with other public servants much less prestigious than himself.

  As Chelsea listened to her father drone on and on, she knew that all he wanted to hear was himself. It was the same reason he could work around so many well intentioned people but never have any of it rub off on him. He was an island unto himself, who didn't have a problem allowing the world around him turn to ash every time he touched it. Chelsea knew that she had to get away from him, but in order to do so she was going to have to put up with his incessant talking.

  “Well, it's been great, dad,” Chelsea said. “But I'm going to go hang out with my friends now, and I don't care what you think.”

  Her father raged as she walked away from him. But she knew that all he really wanted was his say. And just like any good politician, she knew that if she didn't do what he wanted it wouldn't mean consequences, but instead renegotiation. Because her father was just like every other politician who was in it for the wrong reason. He only wanted to do the right thing as long as it got him what he wanted. She knew that she could always count on him to do the right thing after he'd done everything else, but that was of little comfort.

  As she got into her car and drove away she thought about how things had been better with her mother around. Her father, although still not “good,” had been better. He'd ranted less, and been more likely to listen than to talk when it came to family stuff. But now it was as if her father just realized that his wife wouldn't be coming back, as if he'd really thought his position in life would be enough to convince her that she should stay.

  Of course, it hadn't. There just wasn't enough actual give a fuck left in her father to keep her mother interested. It was hard to explain to other people, but Chelsea understood completely. As she shifted gears in her car and pushed down on the accelerat
or suburbia whipped by just outside of her window. It was nice to see the night around her, a beautiful summer night with plenty of lightning bugs, was just as it should be. There wasn't anything about it off, or wrong. She loved the way the moon hung so high above her, heavy like an overripe plum. It was hard to imagine something that great being hung in the sky, but she knew it wasn't always like that. At some point, long ago, there had been no moon. Just the same way, at some point, long ago, her family had been happy.

  But now none of that mattered, now. She tossed her keys onto the coffee table as she walked into Shane's place. Billy was curled up next to her on the couch. Their energy, highly sexual, pulsed through the room. Chelsea smiled.

  “Ladies,” Chelsea said. “Once my father's campaign starts, we'll need to start meeting in secret. We were caught at the bath house by someone, and my father found out.”

  Shane and Billy eyes widened. It was crazy for them to think that others would be interested enough in what they did to spy on them, and Chelsea felt badly about that. The transition others went through when they realized that being around her would make things different sometimes turned them off. Chelsea hoped that reality wouldn't try to hard to drive a wedge between them. She wasn't sure the other two women would be able to handle it, but then again, that was easy for her to say. Both Billy and Shane were out as lesbians, and Chelsea knew that wasn't an easy thing. There were places that shunned lesbians like the plague, and other places that fetishized them. They weren't allowed to just be themselves. They had to really dig deep to find the courage to get up every day and face a world wich, for them, was uncertain.

  “It'll be all right,” Shane said. “There isn't any need to worry about it until your father starts his next run. Or at least that's how I see it. What about you Billy? I bet you have your own thoughts on the matter.”

  “I agree,” Billy said. “I know that your father can be a real asshole, Chelsea, so I'm completely on board with trying to minimize the fallout in your own life. I came out when I was still in high school in a really conservative town, so I completely understand why you'd not want your father in your business at every turn. And I'm sure it's hard for you on other levels, as well, with what just went on with your family and how the spotlight really multiplied the negativity for you.”

  Chelsea was glad they understood, as she sat down on the other side of Shane and snuggled up to her. It was nice to have friends and lovers like these, who didn't need to question her feelings, but instead understood them nearly instantly. It wasn't hard to see, either that there was a lot going on in both of the womens' lives who were next to her on the couch. Billy was a scientists at the local university, and Shane was looking toward the next football season. Chelsea was the only one who didn't have something going on for herself, but she didn't let it make her insecure.

  Chelsea might not have chosen to be her father's daughter, but that's how things worked out, and it made everything else fall in line behind it. There just wasn't anything in her life that wasn't affected by her father, and she'd decided long ago not to allow it to make her bitter. She still wanted to enjoy life to the fullest, to have fun and to try everything.

  If she could choose to have been born to someone else, she didn't know if she would choose it. There was something about who she was that she liked, and not just because she loved herself more than anything, as many narcissists are capable of only that. It was because there was something about a life under the eye of her father that wasn't entirely terrible, even though her father could be overbearing and quite the clown sometimes.

  The three women kissed each other, all at the same time, and Chelsea's thoughts faltered. It was so hard to be concerned with the petty trifles of her father when there were two beautiful women with her. She hope this was how the rest of her life would be.

  During sociology class, Chelsea is presented with a unique scenario from her teacher. Chelsea gets the impression that her teacher—a nerdy man, already balding in his thirties—is very pleased with himself concerning the anecdote turned koan. As Chelsea stars out the window, watching a few of the student athletes throw around a football, she listens.

  The teacher outlines how a child is born, how the child starts off as a blank slate, more or less. The teacher concedes that while there maybe be some genetic markers that predispose the child to certain ailments and protect it from others, more or less the child is able to be whatever it wants to be. That is, of course, if the child is affluent. But the teacher presses forward from these caveats quickly, moving into the meat of the example. He talks about how the child makes it to puberty, after a lifetime of being raised as a boy, and realizes that instead of being a girl, the child turned teen now identifies as a boy.

  The class gasps, but not Chelsea. She knew that this example would be headed into such waters. Around campus the rumors of what Chelsea, Shane, and Billy did together were circulating, to the point that her guidance counselor had called her and asked if she wanted to stay home for a few days. But Chelsea didn't see the point of hiding from it, and some of her teachers had upped the ante as far as content matter for class in an effort to compete with the rumor mill. All in all, if Chelsea had been a weaker person she would have buckled under the pressure. But Chelsea wasn't weak, she was strong. And she didn't really care what anyone had to whisper behind her back. If they were going to whisper, Chelsea figured, why not let them whisper?

  There was nearly no way for her to stop it anyhow. And now her Sociology teachers was getting his two cents in when it came to weird stuff to say in class. It was hard to understand how so many people could just be OK with adding her drama into their class, or trying to compete with it, which, in its own way, was not only acknowledging but accepting what was going on.

  The teacher at the front of the class went on, and eventually what he proffered to the class was the idea that there was no way for a child raised in a hetero-normative environment to really know who they were until their “reawakening” during puberty.

  Chelsea didn't know if she agreed or disagreed. The rest of the class seemed nearly demolished inside. They couldn't comprehend that the parents of a child would have a strong influence on the child, or at least that's what they were willing to show via their reaction. Chelsea wasn't surprised by this at all, in fact, it was what she'd been expecting the whole time. It was hard to understand how people such as her peers wouldn't get that if you raise someone, in an environment not friendly to it, that the person might have to adapt and hide who it really is in order to survive.

  Survival wasn't something that her classmates thought about much. And, Chelsea had to admit, she didn't think about it much, either. It was hard to know exactly how much of her own struggle was real instead of just the usual drama that embroiled her life. Lately, though, it had become clear that if she was anything but straight that there would be some kind of backlash, not only from her father, but from the public as well.

  Her father knew this, he'd made that abundantly clear. She also knew that many of her peers and teachers knew this as well, and that was way some people that had always been cold to her had warmed up, recently. For instance, the Principal of the school had always kept her at a distance, probably trying to stave off any criticism that he was sucking up to her father through being nice to her, but today he had stopped her in the hall and asked her if everything was all right.

  This had been something that had completely caught Chelsea by surprise. There was no way that she could have known that the man who ran the institution of learning she went to was going to show her some special favor in the hallway. Now, even though he'd try to be discrete, there were rumors flying that the administration was ready to expel anyone who played along with harassing her.

  Chelsea had to admit that she liked the idea that people wouldn't be allowed to fuck with her. She thought it was sad how people were always ready to tear someone else down, but that just seemed to be life. Lost in her own thoughts, Chelsea was the last person in the room when
her teacher spoke to her.

  “Are you all right, Chelsea?” he asked. “I know you have a lot on your plate being who you are. Would you like to talk about anything?”

  Chelsea was horrified. She didn't want to be the kind of person who was a teacher's pet. If she'd had any idea that her daydreams would lead her to be singled out after class she would have guzzled two pots of coffee before hand. It was the last thing she wanted, to appear weak, to look as if she needed help.

  But maybe it was all right to appear so, especially because she did need help. Maybe she should tell her teacher the truth. Chelsea decided that she would.

  “I really need help in this class,” Chelsea said. “You know how much a C or a B can hurt someone's GPA. I'd hate to have my GPA take a hit when I'm going through so much outside of the classroom. I know you know how I feel. All of the teachers have been so understanding.”

  “Yes,” her teacher said. “Yes. You do need a little boost in the class to get an A. I'll tell you what. I'll make sure that you get a small boost for coming every day. I know that it takes a lot to come every day, and I know that you're busy. You aren't like most of the other students, Chelsea, you have so much potential while already fulfilling a great deal of it. It's like you know where you’re going, even though your father seems a little irrational sometimes. I really admire that in a person. I'll tell you what. You just do a little right-up, and I'll make sure to weight it so that it really matters, all right?”

  Chelsea nodded and left the classroom feeling happy. She was glad that she'd fallen into a day dream, now. She knew that she would be able to tell Billy and Shane about the incident, and maybe even relive the feelings with them egging her on. It was always nice to share experiences with her girlfriends. It made her feel more alive, more like she was really living, and not just coasting through it as if there was never any variation to what was going on. It amazed her that she was so ready and willing to share with her new friends, even though maybe it shouldn't have, considering they shared quite readily between each other already.