“And did you?”
“I wanted to. But then I kind of freaked, because I was on the clock. I said maybe another night, when she wasn’t paying for my time.”
“How did you leave it?”
“I left soon after, gave her my number.”
“And if she calls, will you?”
“She sent me a message tonight actually. I haven’t replied yet, but I’m tempted,” she said. I gasped.
“Show me!”
“Ok,” Alyssa muttered, with the joint between her teeth, and rooted in her pocket for her phone. “Here it is.” She passed it to me:
Room 307, Thursday night, 8.30pm. Come to my room. Wear a coat, killer heels, your absolute best lingerie, and nothing else. It’ll be worth it, I promise.
“Wow.”
“I know.”
“Are you going?”
“Sense tell me no. But everything else in me tells me hell yes!” I stared at her, in awe, and the tiniest bit jealous.
“I think that’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences that you’d always regret turning down.”
“I agree,” she said, with a wicked grin. “And the strange thing is, that I usually prefer tomboys, but there’s something about her that’s so fucking hot, it drives me crazy. It’s that combination of vulnerability and power. Maybe that’s a one-off for me, and if I don’t take the opportunity, I’ll never get to try out that dynamic.”
“I agree. It sounds pretty important to me.”
“I knew you’d get it, Jack! You’re the only one I could tell about this. If I told anyone else, they’d flip.”
“You’ve got my full support,” I replied. “Just make sure you let me know when you’ll be there.”
“Thanks!” she said. “I will.”
“How’s that girlfriend of yours, Jack?” Jess asked, as Alyssa and I slid the balcony doors shut with an expensive clunk, and trod barefoot across the impossibly soft pile of the rug.
“She’s good,” I said. “She’s working tonight, or she would’ve come.”
“We need to find a night when we’re all free, so we can get to know her as your girlfriend.”
“Definitely!”
“Is she scared of us, Jack?” Tatiana asked, her voice low and purring. She was curled up on the rug, reminding me of a Siamese cat.
“I wouldn’t blame her if she was, but, no, she’s been asking when we’re going to hang out. Maybe next Wednesday? We could go for beers, or something equally low-key?” everyone pulled out their phones and checked their calendars.
“I’m free!” they all said.
“We can teach her all about being a lesbian,” Tatiana said.
“I’ve already taught her all she needs to know,” I replied, winking like a dirty old man.
“I might have some more work for her, actually, if I get chosen to do a runway show,” Tatiana said. “Don’t mention anything yet, but do you think she’d be comfortable doing live modeling work?”
“Going by her recent job experiences, I’d say that would be a yes. Let me know though, and I’ll run it by her.”
I was usually one of the last to leave a gathering, always reluctant to abandon company, but tonight, I found myself itching to get away. Thoughts of Elise had been insinuating themselves through my mind all night. I was getting crazier about her by the day. Her skin, her hair, her smell, her laugh, her humor were all so addictive. I almost ran back to my place, knowing she’d be there, that one of my room mates would have let her in, and she’d be waiting, hopefully already snuggled up in my bed.
I skipped up the stairs and burst through the bedroom door, to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a towel. She looked adorably vulnerable, but there was tension in her features.
“What’s wrong?” I said.
“Oh, nothing.”
“Tell me.” She grimaced.
“I think I pissed your housemate off, by spending too long in the shower. I swear I’d only been in there for ten minutes, but she started hammering on the door and telling me to hurry up.” I frowned.
“Which one was it?”
“Frankie, I think.”
“Was she the one who let you in?”
“No, Marci opened the door for me.”
“Oh, Frankie would have thought it was me in the shower then. She’s a bit of an animal sometimes, but she’d never be that rude to you,” I said, suddenly wishing we had our own place, like Jess and Tatiana, and we didn’t have to deal with housemates, and then I was surprised at the thought.
“That’s kind of what I figured, but, still, I don’t want to get on the wrong side of the people you live with,” she said.
“No, she would’ve been joking. That’s her way, sophisticated as it is.”
“Oh, ok,” she smiled. “If you say so.”
“I do. Anyway, hi!” I kissed her vigorously on the lips, my elation at seeing her returning. She kissed me back.
“Hi!” she said, laughing. “You smell of whisky.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“No, I like it. I used to fantasize about butch women, in white t-shirts and leather jackets, with whisky and cigarettes on their breath.”
“Ha, really?” I said, taken aback, and intrigued in equal measure. She blushed.
“Yeah, it was this teenage daydream I used to have, about going to a dyke bar all by myself, dressed up really femme, in red lipstick, and meeting all these butch women, in leather jackets, with that teddy boy hair going on. Real old-school.”
“Tell me more,” I said, sitting down beside her.
“And then we’d all have a gangbang in the bathroom.” I let out a shout of laughter.
“Really?”
“No, just kidding. But I loved the idea of them all chatting me up, lighting my cigarettes with one of those old-school flicky lighters, and then me leaving with one of them.”
“That’s very interesting, Elise,” I said. “It makes me think of that movie, Bound, with Gina Gershon and Jennifer Tilly.
“Yeah, exactly! I used to watch that movie in secret, so many times. Bars like that don’t exist anymore though, do they?”
“Not that I’ve seen. I know what you mean though. I feel a kind of nostalgia for these olden-day experiences that I wish I’d had. If it’s possible to feel nostalgic for something you haven’t experienced personally.”
“I think it is,” she said, putting a finger on her lip and staring up at the ceiling in a very appealing way. “It’s a sense of yearning for something that belongs irrevocably to the past. You can almost feel all those sexual tensions, the secrecy. Those bars were probably really hidden from the public eye. It seems kind of exciting.”
“And you can probably feel it far more convincingly than if it’d actually happened,” I said. “Still, I’m glad that things are so much easier now.” Elise shrugged.
“To a certain extent.” I pulled her onto my lap, so she was sitting astride me. “Are you dry yet?” I whispered, chafing the towel up and down her back. She giggled.
“Stop! I was dry like ten minutes ago.”
“Good. You won’t be needing this, then,” I said. And I tugged the towel loose from where it was knotted at her cleavage, and pulled it open, before taking if off completely, and dropping it beside me.
“There’s something really dirty about you being naked while I’m still fully clothed,” I said, leaning back on the bed, my gaze flickering all over her body. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me towards her again, and kissed me deeply, her lips soft and pliant. A bolt of arousal hit me, deep inside, but, with an effort, I stopped kissing her. She made a small sound of disappointment.
“So tell me more about these butches,” I said. Her eyes sparkled, and became dreamy.
“Well, they’d be wearing cologne, and they’d have names like Vic, or Lenny or Corky. They’d be lined up by the bar with their whiskies and cigarettes, glowering at each other, and spreading filthy gossip. The bar would be dark and cool. It’d b
e in a basement, of course, and a welcome escape from a hot, hazy day in a dusty small town. There’d be a juke box, playing Dolly Parton. No – something older – Buddy Holly, maybe?”
“So, we’re back in the 50s?”
“I think so?”
“You’d be wearing a polka dot circle dress?”
“Yes! With my hair in pincurls. Maybe there would be some dancing.”
“With the butches fighting each other to be your partner?”
“Of course!”
“Which one gets to go home with you?”
“The best dancer, of course. Or the one with the biggest quiff.”
“I love this fantasy,” I said, and I kissed her again. She shuffled closer, kissing me hungrily, her nails chafing the short hair at back of my neck. I lifted her up and flipped her onto the bed, pressing my weight down on top of her. She looked up at me, her lips parted. “And what happens when they get you home,” I whispered. She pressed her lips together, eyes narrowed, weighing me up.
“They fuck me mercilessly,” she whispered back. A small sound escaped my lips. Elise never stopped surprising me, and this latest revelation was insanely hot; hotter than anything I could’ve imagined. I wrestled with a thought, before making a decision.
“Wait here,” I said, and climbed off the bed. As she watched me, I stripped my clothes off and turned the lights down low. Then I went over to my sex draw and pulled out my strap-on, and all the necessary accouterments. I’d been wanting to use it on her ever since we’d first had sex, but I’d been a little uncomfortable, worried she’d think it was ridiculous, or just plain weird. The perennial anxiety of the strap-on aficionado. I brought it over to the bed, slipped it on with the efficiency of much practice, and climbed on top of her, spreading her thighs wide. Her eyes were full of excitement. The lightest touch revealed that was ready, totally drenched. Slowly, but without hesitation, I pushed the large dildo inside her, and she gasped.
“It’s big, isn’t it?”
“Mmm,” she said, her voice taut. Her thighs pressed tight around my hips, preventing me from going too deep too soon. I began to move slowly, tiny movements, letting her body get used to me, accommodate me. At last, her hands relaxed their grip on my shoulders, and her thighs slackened, and the next thrust brought a moan of pleasure.
“Is this how they fuck you?” I said, close to her ear. I began to move faster, and harder, and she wrapped her legs around me, in the way that I loved, drawing me into her.
“Maybe,” she said, between gasps. Her nails dug into my ass, demanding more and more from me, and her breath came in pants. Desire and arousal were blurring my vision, and the world turned soft and hazy. Fantasies about taking her roughly in all kinds of situations and positions crowded into my mind. I pumped harder and harder, and suddenly, for the first time ever, I came, just from fucking her, my clit pressing against the base of the dildo, but somehow like it was me who was inside her. I could’ve sworn I could feel the little contractions of her muscles, her sweet slipperiness. I collapsed on top of her, knocked out by the strength of my orgasm.
“Wow, did you come?” she said.
“Uh huh.”
“I didn’t know that was, you know, possible.”
“Me neither,” I said, still stunned by what had just happened. “And it doesn’t mean I’m finished with you.” I raised her thighs to allow me to go deeper, and began to fuck her again. In less than a minute, her hips were jerking, and she was muttering those fragments of words under her breath that told me that she was about to come. She seemed to come for a long time, crying out and clawing at my back.
We lay quietly, both glowing with perspiration.
“That was insane. So good,” she said, after a while. “Although, I think I’ll be walking funny tomorrow.”
“It’s probably a little on the big side,” I said. “I got over-excited when I was buying it.”
“No, I like it. It’ll just take a bit of getting used to.”
“Don’t worry, we can get plenty of practice,” I said, with a grin.
“Why have you only just brought it out now?”
“I don’t know.” I ruffled my hair in embarrassment. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.”
“Of course I do. It’s super hot,” she said, and kissed me.
Chapter Four
Elise
I wasn’t mistaken in my prediction that I’d be walking funny the next day. There was a spring in my step as I left Jack’s the following morning and went back to my place to pick up some things I needed for class. Last night blew my mind. It wasn’t better than the sex we’d been having before, but it was different. There was something very primal about it that had spoken directly to my fantasies. I’d assumed Jack would have a strap-on – it fitted so well with her sexuality. But when it hadn’t materialized over time, I’d been confused, wondering if I’d misunderstood her. Strap-ons had been woven into my fantasies for a long time. My fantasies always involved being roughly dominated, and having sex like that, all caught up with my butch bar fantasy, was hotter than I could’ve imagined. It was like my teenage nostalgia was brought to life again, with memories of my feelings for Jack, and recollections of other abstract desires all rolled up into one blistering hot scenario. The weather felt summery today, belying the approaching fall, and the air seemed full of promise. Recollections of the teenage daydreams I’d had, while lying on my bed, with the window open and a sweet breeze blowing through, were so present in my mind. All these things I’d forgotten – buried alongside my true sexuality for so long – burst into life again. I recalled hiding in the back of Barnes & Noble, flicking through a book of butch/femme erotica, and being so turned on that I’d had to go to the restroom to satisfy my urge. I remembered walking all the way to the next town and buying Curve magazine from a smirking old perve at a newsstand, who put it in a paper bag for me, as if it was porn, which admittedly made it seem even more exciting. I’d brought it home as fast as I could, and, with my bedroom door safely locked, I’d pored over every inch of it, eagerly reading about the lives of real, adult lesbians, who could live their lives as freely as they wanted to. I remembered my secret scrapbook where I’d collected photos of my favorite celebrities, all those is-she-isn’t-she movie stars, and the few who were openly out of the closet. I felt like a part of me had been unlocked. Meeting Jack had already done a lot of the work, but I had needed something else, something separate from her, to fully reveal my previous self to me.
I was almost home. I turned my key in the lock, and went through the door, stopping just short of colliding with my sister.
“Woah! Are you trying to ambush me?” I said, then my smile faded as I saw the worry on her face. “Are you ok?”
“I’ve been trying to get hold of you, but you’re not answering your phone.”
“Oh, I haven’t looked at it for a while. It must’ve been on silent without me realizing. What is it?”
“I’ve spoken to mom. She wants us to go back home, for a memorial for dad. But she’s also got herself into trouble with the latest douche she’s been dating, so I think she needs help.”
“God.” I slumped against the wall in the hallway, my earlier wellbeing draining out of me like the seepage from a stricken oil tanker. “I guess we’ll have to go.”
“I don’t like the idea any more than you do, but I don’t think there’s any way we can avoid it.”
“So, can we go back for the anniversary? Can she wait that long?”
“Yeah absolutely. It’s nothing urgent. I think she just needs some help breaking up with this guy.”
“Ok. Then I can take a couple of days off college, after mid-terms. That’s fine.”
“It’ll be ok, sis. We’ll get through it together,” Melissa said, and gave me a hug. Then she pulled back and held me at arm’s length. “Now, are you going to tell me where you’ve been all these nights?” I sighed. For the first time, I really wanted to tell her. But I couldn’t burden her right now, now that s
he had to think about our parents.
“I will. Soon, I promise.” She gave me an intense look. “I just need a little more time.”
“Ok. As long as you’re not doing anything I wouldn’t do,” she said.
“Of course not,” I said, unconvincingly.
*
It was early evening and I was looking for the place where LGB drop-in was being held. It was in a new building, right on campus, and I approached the room cautiously, checking there wasn’t anyone I knew nearby. The same over-enthusiastic girl I’d met at the previous LGB event led me into a room, and my stomach flipped at the sight of a circle of chairs, which were half-filled with people who all seemed to know each other.
“We usually sit down together and chat about our experiences before we go into smaller groups and socialize,” the girl explained. “If someone’s considering coming out to their families, we can talk it over as a group, and help them to prepare for it.”
“Oh, that’s kind of why I’m here,” I said, before I could stop myself. Why did I just say that?
“Fantastic!” the girl gushed. We can definitely give you some support, and share our own experiences. Come and sit down.”
I took a seat next to a friendly-looking girl. She introduced herself as Laura.
“I love Dinah,” she said, nodding towards the host. “She’s got a heart of gold. But sometimes I feel like we’re at an AA support group or something. Like I should stand up in front of the group and say, Hi, my name’s Laura and I’m a lesbian. It’s been five days since I last kissed a girl.” I giggled.
“I was kind of thinking the same thing,” I said.
“It’s a nice group though, and it’s a good place to make new friends.” I smiled, liking her already.
The circle was almost full, and Dinah took her seat too, sitting up brightly, hands folded in her lap. She cleared her throat.
“I’d like to welcome the newest member of our group,” she said, indicating me. “Perhaps you can say a few words about yourself?” My heart started pounding in my chest. Why the hell didn’t I run away as soon as I saw this stupid circle of chairs? I could’ve figured something like this would happen.
Me and Her (Always Her, Book 2): Lesbian Romance Page 5