by Amy Brent
When I finally couldn't take anymore, my legs clamped down around Maria's head. I clung to her, writhing in pleasure, until the explosion within me faded and I collapsed against the desk. My breath came in short, sharp gasps. I dug my nails into my thighs, holding onto the last fading moments. Then I laid there for a few minutes, unable to get my legs to work.
“I take it you enjoyed that?” Maria asked, smiling up at me.
“Mmm-hmm.” I giggled and rolled over onto my side, curling up into a ball.
Maria had just gotten up off her knees when the door opened and another professor walked in. I sat up quickly and adjusted my skirt. Maria kicked my panties under the desk and out of sight.
“Oh,” the man said, looking us over. “I didn't think anyone was still in here. I have a night class starting in half an hour, I wanted to get set up.”
“That's fine,” Maria said. She circled around the desk, adjusting her clothes so she didn't look so disheveled. “We were just discussing some papers. We'll get out of your way.”
I kept my head down, trying not to look too guilty. I couldn't tell if the man knew we'd been up to something, or if he believed we'd simply been here discussing school work.
Maria gathered her papers and shoved them into her bag. When the other professor wasn't looking, she also snatched my panties off the ground and shoved them in her bag and out of sight. I collected my own books and my purse, then Maria and I walked out together. I glanced over my shoulder at the professor. He was looking at the desk, which was still disheveled. He glanced over at me and I quickly turned away, giggling.
On the way to the parking lot, Maria took my hand in hers. “I suppose you missed the bus again,” she said.
I looked across the way towards the bus stop. There was no sign of it, and no one was standing there waiting. “Looks like it.”
“Well, then I'll just have to drive you home,” she said. She flashed me a smile. “And maybe we can get dinner while we're out.”
I leaned my head against the window as she drove away. I closed my eyes and let the vibrations of the car lull me into a pleasant state of relaxation. I still wasn't sure what Maria and I were. Was she my girlfriend? Were we a couple? Would she be leaving her boyfriend for me?
Or maybe, I supposed, we were simply lovers. Two women sharing experiences together in a private, intimate way. I was certainly young enough that I didn't need to start worrying about whether or not this was a serious relationship. I'd never even been with anyone else before. I didn't need to ask Maria for a commitment. And I didn't need to fret over her boyfriend. That would be for her to figure out, and I'd be here, waiting for her, once she got it all sorted out.
We went out to dinner that night at a quiet restaurant. We talked and laughed, growing closer, and sharing the stories of our lives. I told her of my days growing up as a fundie homeschooler in Georgia. She told me about her life growing up in Philadelphia, about her large family, and her siblings who were all now married, bringing nieces and nephews into the picture. We talked about my plans for the future, about writing, about love and life and all of those simple, wonderful things.
After dinner, we went back to my apartment. Brian was out, having dinner at a friend's, since I'd texted him and told him I'd be bringing Maria back after dinner. We put on soft music and danced in the living room. We dimmed the lights and kissed in the shadows. Then we made love on the futon, learning more and more about each other's bodies and the ways we could make each other feel good.
When Maria's boyfriend called, she muted the phone, leaving him for another day. This was my time, she told me. Our time. A time for two women who were growing closer, melding together, and learning about a type of passion that neither of us had ever known.
Eventually Maria fell asleep in my arms. I held her for a time, watching her sleep and stroking her beautiful face. It was getting into the wee hours of the morning when I heard Brian finally coming up the stairs. I got up, put on a robe, and covered Maria with a blanket, then went to the door to let him in.
“Hey, cupcake,” he whispered. He glanced into the living room and saw Maria sleeping there. “Looks like everything went okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, giggling. I hugged my robe around myself. “Yeah, it was pretty wonderful.”
“Told you so.” He tweaked my nose and I laughed.
We went into his bedroom to talk, so we wouldn't wake Maria. I told him all about how the night had gone, and he asked me a million questions. He seemed so happy for me. I was pretty happy for myself. I still had a lot to learn about living up north, on my own, setting out on my own path. But I had a good friend, a wonderful woman, and plenty of time to figure the rest of it out.
“And what about that boyfriend of hers?” Brian finally asked. “I mean, I could maybe take him off her hands.” He shrugged, pursing his lips with a playful expression on his face.
I laughed, covering my mouth with my hands. “I don't know,” I said. “And it's not really important. This...this wasn't about relationships, or commitments, or making big decisions. I'm sure there'll be plenty of that in the future. But that's not what this is about.”
“Then what's it about?” He leaned forward, propping his elbow on his chin.
“It's about me finally opening myself up to someone,” I said. I leaned back on Brian's bed, gazing at the ceiling, a dreamy look in my eyes. “It's about embracing life, about finally getting the chance to take hold of something I wanted, to grab it, to have it for myself, even if only for a few hours. And even if that's all it ever becomes, I'll be happy with that.”
I looked up at him and smiled. “Because sometimes,” I said, “that's all a girl really needs.”
BECAUSE SHE OWNS ME
I was having dinner with my girlfriend when her boyfriend called and interrupted us.
“God,” Maria said, frowning at her phone. “I'm sorry about this.”
“Don't answer it,” I said.
“I have to.” She pouted at me, looking between me and the phone. It continued to ring, and I knew her boyfriend was impatient on the other end.
“Maria, don't,” I said. I reached across the table and took her hand. “This is supposed to be our night.” Her boyfriend almost always called or texted her whenever we were out. I hated it. I knew that she'd been his long before she'd been mine, but I couldn't stand sharing her. Not just sharing. But having him always interrupt our time together. Which was something I couldn't even do. If I called her while she was out with her boyfriend, then our secret relationship would be exposed.
“I'm sorry,” Maria said. “Casey, I have to.”
She got up from the table and hurried to the restaurant's exit before she answered the call. I watched her go, pouting the entire time. It was always like this when her boyfriend interrupted our time together. She ran off and left me behind so she could talk to him in private. Of course, he didn't know that Maria was also dating a girl on the side. I was her dirty little secret.
Our server came over while Maria was still outside. “Is everything all right?” she asked, giving me her fake smile.
I wanted to say that no, everything was not all right. I was in a relationship with a woman who couldn't give me her whole heart. On top of that, she had been my teacher, and even though I'd already turned eighteen by the time we met, she could still get in trouble if anyone found out we'd started dating while I was still her student. That was another reason for the secrecy. If anyone found out she'd been dating a student, it would ruin her reputation, and potentially cost her her job.
The server watched me, waiting for an answer. I wanted to say that I was hurting, that I was confused, that I had no idea what I was doing and that was a very scary thing.
But you didn't say that kind of thing to a stranger. So I simply said, “Yeah, everything's fine.”
I stared out the window at Maria as she talked on her phone. From her animated hand gestures, I guessed that she was fighting with her bo
yfriend again.
“Will you be ordering dessert?” the server asked.
I didn't look at her. “No,” I said. “No, I think I've had just about enough tonight.”
The server left our check and took away the empty plates. I sat there, my shoulders slumped, thinking about the mess that this relationship had become. I'd never met any of Maria's friends. I'd never been introduced to her family. And the way things were going, it didn't seem as if I ever would. Not as long as she had another person in her life, another relationship. A relationship that, it seemed, would always come before ours.
I sat there moping until Maria finally came back inside. She looked at the check on the table and asked me, “What, no dessert? I kind of wanted to try their peach cobbler.”
I got up and headed for the door. “I'm not hungry. I just want to go home.”
Maria stared at me as I walked away. She lingered behind long enough to pay the check, then came out to meet me. I stood by her car, shivering. Instead of opening the door, she stepped up to me and tried to put her arms around me. I stepped away, hugging my arms around myself and keeping my head down.
“You're mad at me,” she said.
“No.”
“Yes you are.”
I looked away, watching the cars drive by in the night. How could I explain what I was feeling? It wasn't anger. I knew what I'd gotten myself into when we met. She'd already been involved with her boyfriend before I ever sat in her class for the first time. I'd known what I was getting into the first time I invited her into my apartment, the first time I'd seduced her and brought her into my bed. At the time, I'd been willing to take what I could get. To share her with someone else. But now I felt like I'd just been a fool. She hadn't broken up with him for the six months that we'd been together. I was starting to doubt if she ever would.
No, I wasn't mad at her. I was just disappointed in myself.
“I want to go home,” I said.
She stared at me for a long, silent moment. Then she unlocked the door and opened it for me. I got in and huddled in the seat, refusing to look at her.
We were quiet the entire drive back to my apartment. I stared at the trees as they passed us by. I fiddled with my seat belt, running my fingers across the rough material and letting the edge scrape against my sensitive skin. Maria watched me, but she didn't say anything. She probably knew that I didn't want to talk about what was wrong.
When we got to my apartment, I started to open the door, but Maria put a hand on my arm to stop me from leaving. “Are we going to talk about this?” she asked.
“There's nothing to talk about,” I said. “You are who you are, and I am who I am.”
“You're my girlfriend,” she said.
“No, I'm just the girl you're fucking.”
I got out and ran to my apartment door, leaving her behind. I didn't look back to see if she was crying. I didn't want her to see that I was.
I went inside and found my roommate, Brian, sitting on the futon with a date. Both Brian and the man he was with were in their forties. Though if living with an eighteen-year-old girl had ever cramped Brian's style, he had never said anything about it.
“Oh, hey sweetie,” Brian said. He and his date got up, awkwardly adjusting their clothing. I caught a glimpse of matching bulges in their shorts. I immediately felt guilty for interrupting whatever had been happening, or whatever had been about to happen.
Brian took one look at my teary-eyed face and pulled me into a hug. “Oh, Casey dear, did that lover-girl of yours stomp on your poor little heart again?”
I tried to respond, but all that came out was a muffled sob against Brian's shoulder.
“Should I go?” Brian's date asked.
I pulled back and wiped my nose on my sleeve. “No,” I said. “No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you guys. I wasn't supposed to be home this early.” The plan had been for Maria and I to be out late, probably fooling around in her backseat. But obviously that part of the night had been skipped.
“Sweetie,” Brian said, “if you need—”
“No, seriously,” I said, backing away and holding up my hands to ward off any further protests. “I already ruined one date tonight. No point in ruining two. You guys have fun.”
I headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I heard Brian and his date talking softly in the other room for a minute, then I heard footsteps leading into Brian's bedroom. The door shut, and I did my best to stop listening to the rest of the noises coming from the room.
I took a long time in the shower, scrubbing myself down and washing the tears from my face. I scrubbed the loufa into my skin so hard that I left red marks. I love the feeling of the rough material scraping against my skin. It made me feel more alive.
I was still pent up, so I turned on the shower massager and pulled the detachable showerhead down. I sat on the edge of the tub and held the massager between my legs. It was never quite the same as Maria's fingers or her tongue, but there was something about the steady thrumming of the hot water against my clit that made me climax harder and longer than I ever did with Maria. It was more impersonal, less intimate, but it was hard and rough and made me moan so loud that I was sure Brian and his date heard me. Though I doubted two gay men would be turned on by the sound of a teenage girl having an orgasm.
The water was cold by the time I finished. I turned the shower off, got out, and dried myself off. Then I went out into the living room and pulled the folding privacy screen out to block it off from the kitchen. Sometimes I hated not having my own bedroom, but Brian mostly let me have the living room to myself. It wasn't as if I could afford to move into my own place, and my crappy cashier job at McDonald's didn't pay me enough for Brian and I to upgrade to a two-bedroom apartment.
I laid down on the futon, hoping that Brian and his date hadn't done anything on it before I interrupted them. Brian was probably my best friend in the world, but that didn't mean I wanted to sleep with his stains.
I pulled a blanket over myself and laid there, staring at the ceiling. I thought about Maria and our relationship. I thought about what I was going to do with my life now that I was in college. I thought about taking a knife and tracing it over my skin, not to hurt myself really, but just to feel the sweet relief of physical pain that would drown out the emotional pain I was buried under. I contented myself with rubbing my arms against some screws that jutted out from the side of the futon. I let the metal scrape against my skin until it hurt just right. I squeezed my legs together as the pain brought waves of euphoria with it. I was still riding the high after my orgasm in the shower, and the sweet, succulent pain brought me to the edge of another. I dug my nails into my thigh hard enough to leave marks, pushing myself over the edge. I clamped my teeth down on the blanket to hold in my moans as my body convulsed on the futon, until the moment passed and I collapsed, sweaty and satisfied.
I closed my eyes and let myself drift off to sleep, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day.
* * *
I kept myself busy for the next few days. School was boring, and I was struggling a bit in some of my classes. I was an undeclared major, so I was mostly taking general education classes until I figured out what I wanted to do. My writing classes were going easy. I'd always been a gifted writer, and I wrote all the time for fun. I kept my own blog, talking about LGBT issues and my life as a former homeschooler who'd finally escaped to move into the liberal north. But I was struggling in math and science. I blamed my homeschool education for that. My mother was a Christian fundamentalist, and she didn't believe in things like evolution or sex ed, so my education in those areas had been sorely lacking. I barely had a sixth grade education in math, though I'd managed to struggle through the tests needed to get my high school equivalency degree last spring.
After school most days I was running the McDonald's drive thru. I hated it. The customers were really getting to me lately. It was getting worse on those days in particular, wit
h all of the other issues I was already dealing with. I had little patience, and the customers kept pushing it to its limit. I kept having to deal with the stupidest questions.
“No, we aren't serving biscuits,” I said into the headset. “It's dinner time.”
I glared at the monitor, where the drive thru camera showed an angry man leaning out of his car to shout into the speaker.
“Yes, I know we have all-day breakfast now,” I said. “But not everything, like it says on the menu. You can get a McMuffin.”
I pulled off the headset while the man berated me again, swearing he was going to sue me for falsified advertising. I leaned against the window, digging my arms into the metal ridges of the frame. I waited until the man's voice stopped coming from the headset before I put it back on. “If you'd like, you can speak to a manager,” I said, having no idea what the man had yelled while I had the headset off, and not caring. “But he's going to tell you the same thing. If you want biscuits, you have to get here before 11:00 AM.”
The man cursed at me, then drove off. When he passed by my window, I gave him the finger. I don't know if he saw, or if he was driving by too fast. I also didn't care. If I got fired for flipping off a customer, that would be just fine by me. I'd find some other crappy job to make crappy minimum wage.
I went into the back to bitch at the grill team about the stupid people I was dealing with in drive thru. They got just as irritated with the customers as I did, especially when people asked to have something remade. Some people could be super picky. Like the lady the other day who ordered two burgers, then asked us to remake her order because one of them was wrong. But when we remade the one burger, she yelled at us that she wanted both of them remade, because now the other one was getting cold.
“I really don't understand what's wrong with people,” I shouted. “They're such fucking assholes.”