Double Pleasure, Double Pain
Page 14
“Whew, that was exhausting,” I said once I laid down.
She quickly sat upright and cocked her head in my direction like she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “I didn’t see you doing any work, missy. You got a free ride.”
I laughed. “It was good too. I take it you’ve done this before,” I said.
“Yes, I took a couple of trips to Florida with Michelle, and we spent some time in the Keys. I’ve gone out on Lake Michigan a couple of times too, but the experience isn’t quite the same. I can’t wait to take Jaron.”
“I’m sure he would love it. I’m hooked already,” I said.
“I’ve got a few more tricks up my sleeve,” she said, mischievously.
She was laying it on thick now, and I was loving it. We relaxed and finished our drinks before heading to the Lagoon Bar for lunch. We settled on deli sandwiches and potato chips, saving our appetites for a big dinner that night of steak and shrimp.
“Do you feel guilty yet?” she asked out of nowhere.
I thought for a moment. “In all honesty, no, I don’t. I wish I didn’t have to see you like this under these secretive circumstances, but I wanted to be with you. I do feel guilty for not feeling guilty, if that makes sense.”
“Guilty pleasure,” she said.
“Have you ever dated a woman that had a boyfriend before?” I asked her.
“Sure, back in the day when I wasn’t looking for a relationship. Then I made it a rule not to do that anymore.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I see all rules are meant to be broken sometimes.”
“Do you feel guilty?” I asked curiously.
“I don’t like to be deceptive, Kyla. So, yes, I’ll feel guilty when I see Jeff again.”
“David told me that this is unfair to you and to Jeff.”
“You don’t think it is?” she asked, like I better say yes.
“Yes, I know it is.” I paused. “So if I know it’s unfair and so do you, then why did you agree to come?”
She leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. “Have you ever met someone and felt like you had an immediate connection with that person? A vibe that tells you this person is special? I felt that way the first day in class. And I’m not the kind of person to ignore that kind of energy. I had to get to know you, to see if I was right.”
“And?”
“I was,” she said.
“I feel the same way,” I agreed, surprising myself by opening up. “I don’t normally let people get close to me, but you’re different. I don’t feel like you’d do anything to hurt me. The way I’ve felt over the last three months is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I feel so close to you; you’re so much more than just a friend. It’s confusing because I’ve never wanted to be with another woman before, but I think about you all the time and I miss you when I don’t see you or talk to you. I want to be near you and smell you. It’s all so new to me, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, what are you more confused about? The fact that you have feelings for someone else, or that the someone else is a woman?”
I hadn’t really thought about that. What would I do if I’d had feelings for another man? For some reason, that didn’t even seem like a possibility. No man had ever made me feel the way Steph made me feel inside. But I don’t know if that’s because I normally had my guard up with men. No one, not even Jeff, had the keys to unlock every door in my heart. But Steph was opening doors that I thought I had locked and thrown away the keys.
“That thought hasn’t even crossed my mind. But maybe it’s a combination of both, Steph,” I answered. “I have strong feelings for someone who happens to be a woman. I’m twenty-six years old, so why now after all these years? It makes no sense to me. David is convinced that I’ve been gay my whole life.”
“What, you think you suddenly wake up one day and you’re gay?”
“Well, yeah, I guess. What else could it be for me? I’ve never been involved with a woman before. I’ve always been straight.”
“You don’t think there’s a chance that you’ve been gay all along but didn’t acknowledge it? Or at least had a small attraction toward women that you just didn’t act upon?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. I was feeling pressured again to act like I had been a lesbian all my life.
“Kyla, most people in their right minds would not choose to be gay. It’s hard as hell. And even though society is slowly progressing, we still have a long way to go. Imagine people thinking you’re perverted just because you’re gay. Or that you want to screw every woman with two legs because you’re gay. People dislike you, make harsh judgments, and may even find you disgusting, just because you’re gay. Trust me, no one would go through this shit if it wasn’t real.”
“You included?” I asked.
“Hell, yeah! I’m very happy and comfortable in the skin I’m in, but it hasn’t always been that way. Coming out to my mother, grandmother, and sister was the hardest, but I did it at a young age, so the shock wore off long ago. Jaron has always grown up around women and spent a few of his younger years with me and Michelle as a family. Right now he doesn’t question it, but I fear what he may have to go through as he gets older and his friends recognize that he has a gay mother. Kids and their parents can be cruel.”
“I agree. It might be difficult for him. How are you going to prepare him for the criticism?”
She sighed. “I can only love him the best I can and help him to be a strong person. I hope to show him that love has no barriers. Gay or straight, white or black, whatever. We should all have the right to love whoever we choose, as long as it’s not hurting anyone.”
I admired her confidence and determination. She was so secure in herself and I wished I could be that way. At that moment, I felt the complete opposite. Like a bird trying to spread its wings and fly for the first time.
“Won’t you miss out on being married?”
“I can get married,” she answered quickly.
“You’d marry a woman?”
“Surely not a man,” she said, laughing.
“But it’s not legal, is it?”
“No, but I could have a commitment ceremony. There are some pastors who will perform ceremonies for same-sex couples. I’ve been to a couple of weddings, and it’s no different, besides the obvious, of course.”
“You mean one woman wears a tux?” I questioned.
She moaned at my ignorance. “Not always. Some women are more comfortable in men’s clothing, so in those instances, yes. But I’ve seen two women both in dresses too.”
I pictured Steph and me at the altar and wondered who would wear the tuxedo.
“Who would wear the tux if you got married?” I asked her.
“Girl, I just said it’s not a written rule. Hell, the marriage isn’t even legal. It all depends on the woman and her own style. If I married a stud—you know what a stud is, right?” She observed my expressionless stare. “A stud is a female with masculine qualities,” she explained. “Anyway, if she wore a suit that would be fine. But if I marry a fish, then she’d probably wear a dress.”
“Fish? What in the hell is a fish?” I asked, scrunching my nose.
“A feminine lesbian.”
“I wouldn’t want to be called a fish. That sounds nasty as hell,” I said.
“Kind of. But most lesbians don’t take offense to it.”
“So you’re a fish?” I asked her.
“Well, I’m not a stud or even a soft stud. I’m a lipstick lesbian. That’s another term for feminine lesbians.”
“Should I be writing this down?”
“Yes, I’m giving you a quiz later,” she teased.
“Do you have a preference in your type of woman?” I asked, comparing myself to Michelle in my head.
“I usually prefer more feminine women, but my high school sweetheart was a soft stud. Some studs prefer to take on a more masculine, aggressive role, but underneath, we’re all women. I, personally, have never had the male and
female roles in my relationships. I hate when people ask me that.”
“What?”
“Who’s the man?”
I was so glad she said that because that surely was my next question. Still, you’d assume one person would be more dominating and the other more submissive, right? I had to know.
“So who takes out the garbage and cleans and cooks if there’s no man or woman?” I couldn’t help but ask.
She clicked her teeth and tapped her fingers one by one on the table. I figured she was counting to ten and trying not to strangle me for what must have been a stupid question.
“You’re saying you’ve never taken out the garbage? Or Jeff has never cleaned the house? Just as in any other relationship, if one partner enjoys cooking, he or she may do a lot of cooking. But that doesn’t mean that he or she is the other person’s servant. Same with gay relationships. If I’m good at fixing the clogged drain in the sink, it doesn’t mean that I’m the ‘man.’ I’m just good at fixing things.”
“Okay, I didn’t know,” I said after her scolding.
“I know you don’t know, Ky. I’m schooling you so you don’t have to go around asking anybody else these crazy-ass questions. I want you to understand.”
“What else can you school me on?” I asked, flirting with her.
“You sure you’re ready for the big lesson? I can teach you any and everything you want to know. I’m all yours,” she said, seductively. She twisted in her chair, allowing her sarong to fall open, displaying her firm, sexy legs.
Wetness gathered between my legs and I got nervous again.“Do you want to take a quick nap before dinner?” I asked.
“For sure,” she said, hopping up from her chair and then helping me up from mine.
We went back to our room and were asleep within ten minutes. The sun, heat, and water workout had taken its toll.
When I opened my eyes an hour and a half later, Steph was facing me, eyes wide open, staring at me.
“Did my snoring wake you up?” I asked, noticing my mouth was wide open when I woke up.
“No, I was watching you sleep. You look so peaceful,” she said.
“I’ve been known to drool and snore and I know that’s not cute,” I said as I wiped the corners of my mouth, just in case.
“You look beautiful as usual,” she said.
We looked into each other’s eyes for what felt like eternity. I wished it were. She studied my hairline, my eyebrows, my nose, and my lips. I watched her examine me, knowing she was wondering what she was going to do with me. Her eyes seemed filled with joy and uncertainty, intertwined. Joy for our time together, uncertainty of what would happen when we returned back home.
“We better get ready for dinner,” I finally said.
After showering, I slid on a burnt orange minidress with spaghetti straps and low V-neck in the front. I found silver and orange seashell earrings and a bracelet at the boutique where I got my hair braided. The poor woman who worked behind the counter looked like she had used the salon services one too many times. The child’s hair was about as long as my pinky fingernail for a good inch around her hairline. It took everything in me not to run out of there when I saw her.
Steph’s dress was a black number falling just below her knees with the entire back open, revealing the peace sign tattoo at the small of her back. It was quite sexy on her, especially with the black sandal heels that caressed her feet.
We went down to the Bahamian Club and were able to get a table, even though we hadn’t made reservations. The place was filled with vacationers of every race, age, and sex, and the atmosphere was mellow cool.
“What shall we toast to?” Steph asked when our white wines arrived.
“Let’s toast to us and the quality time we’re able to spend together this weekend. And that we still get good grades even though we’re missing class Monday morning.” I laughed.
“To us,” we chimed and clinked our glasses together.
Over dinner Steph asked about Vanessa. “How did the interview go? I wish I hadn’t missed it.”
“It was fantastic,” I said after finishing a bite of medium-well steak. “I recorded it, so I’ll lend you the tape. She was so good, and the interview was emotional for everyone. Roger ended up going to the interview with her, but she told us all the behind-the-scenes info. Mr. Davis’s wife never betrayed him all the years he was incarcerated and believed in his innocence the whole time. She was always devoted to his case and helping him obtain his freedom. He cried, she cried, the kids cried. Vanessa got emotional. Girl, it was heart-wrenching. I think she’s on her way to being much more than a reporter.”
“Good for her. She deserves it. How are her wedding plans coming?”
“Once she and Roger decided to ignore what everyone else wanted them to do, plans started flowing smoothly. Final fittings for the dresses are right before Christmas. I’m happy for them. They’re so compatible.”
“I was watching them that night on the cruise, and they do look happy. So do you and Jeff,” she commented.
I didn’t even bother to respond. What was I supposed to say to that? And why was she bringing him up again? I was having such a good time and I wasn’t interested in talking about Jeff. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Let’s go dancing after dinner,” I said, changing the subject like I always did when I didn’t want to talk about something. She didn’t pursue the topic either.
We asked our cute, caramel-colored waitress if she knew of a club nearby with good music. Janila was extra friendly with us, making sure that we were well taken care of, bending over backward to check on us about every five minutes. Steph figured she must have been “family.” I didn’t even ask what she meant by that. But Janila told us about a place down the road that vacationers frequented and enjoyed the reggae music.
We took a cab over and walked into a dark, smoky joint with a dance floor packed with what looked like every single person in the place. Men and women were bumping and grinding to the funky beat played by the band on-stage. The two of us didn’t waste a minute before joining the others on the floor.
We weren’t the only female couple on the floor, so we fit right in. I tried to keep up with Steph as she swiveled and circled her hips to the music, making love with the loud drumbeat. But I started to mess up, concentrating too much on her.
She noticed my stuttering feet and reached over and grabbed both my hands and pulled me close. She turned me around so my backside was against her front. She pressed her hips into mine so I could feel her movements as I rotated my body with hers. Her hands were at my sides for guidance. I covered her hands with mine and stroked them as we let the music take over our bodies. It felt like we had become one with the music and the dance floor, all combined into one blazing frenzy. We danced several more songs before getting ice water at the bar.
“Thanks for the lesson,” I said, drinking the water like it was the first drink I had all day.
“No thing. I love to dance,” she said.
“I can tell. You can turn anyone on just by the way you dance,” I told her.
She leaned forward and looked me straight in the eye.
“Is it working on you?”
“You don’t even have to try. You already got me.”
“Let’s go,” she said, getting off her bar stool.
We took our shoes off and raced back to the hotel, running from headlights to avoid getting hit and stubbing our toes on pebbles in the road. Of course, those strong thighs of hers led the race all the way back to our room. We were like little kids playing tag, laughing all the way. Inside the room, I leaned against the wall, hand against my chest, and tried to catch my breath.
“You win,” I said, sounding like I was about to have an asthma attack. You’d think those Monday-morning workouts would have prepared me for events such as these.
“What’s my prize?” she asked.
“Come and see,” I answered, trying not to sound anxious.
Softly she tasted my skin, dancing her tongue on my body. She slipped my dress straps down and let my dress fall to the floor. Again, she used her fingers to trace over my nipples, massaging them until they stood erect. I moaned with pleasure as she took each breast in her mouth, circling each nipple tenderly with her tongue.
I reached behind her and untied the string that held her dress up. She backed away, stepped out of the dress and walked me to the bed. I laid on my back and stretched my arms upward as she kissed my ankles, my calves, knees, and thighs. She lingered on my belly, not missing an inch, before making her way back to my breasts, and finally bringing her lips back to mine. We kissed as she placed her body on mine, pressing her breasts against mine, grinding her hips into me.
She placed one, then two fingers inside me.
“Oh, Stephanie . . .” I whispered between kisses.
In and out, her fingers played with my insides, going deep into places that made me scream with pleasure. She removed her lips from mine and lowered herself, positioning her head between my thighs. She showered my thighs with kisses and tongue caresses before tasting the juices that flowed from my body. She dove inside, absorbing all I had to offer.
She lifted my hood, exposing my clit, and licked me expertly, until I felt butterflies all over my body. The electrifying sensations sent tingles from head to toe. I laid with my body shaking, savoring the pleasure she brought to me.
I took her head in my hands, bringing her up to my face. I wanted to touch her, taste her and please her. I flipped her over and straddled her from behind. I ran my fingernails up and down her spine, bending over and kissing every place I touched. I kissed the back of her ears, the slope of her neck down to the tattoo on the small of her back. I reached for her warmth, excited by the wetness that engulfed my fingers. Her muscles contracted, asking me to go deeper. I rubbed her insides and felt her hips circle in motion.