Beginnings

by L. T. Smith

  ‘H-ello.’ I had forgotten it was Sarah. Der. How could I forget something so important? I turned to face the door, and there was my reason. Ash stood there, her back leaning against the wall; her face turned towards me, eyes hooded … lips slightly parted.

  I didn’t hear Sarah. I couldn’t. There was too much noise in my head to hear her. Blood is a very loud substance when it is whipping around inside your head, did you know that?

  ‘Lou? Are you there? Lou?’ Reality forced me back to the voice at the end of the line.

  ‘Sarah … hi …’

  I spoke to Sarah, but my mind, and eyes, were fully on Ash. I could hear a little confusion from the other end of the line, and I did feel bad. That is the reason I agreed to see her again that night. Seven thirty. Here.

  I hung up the phone, stuck my hands in my pockets, and then smiled the weakest of smiles at Ash. Inside I felt I had just screamed out ‘I’m going out with a woman tonight! On a date!’

  Ash leaned forward, and it seemed as if it happened in slow motion. I was mesmerised.

  ‘Are you free tonight?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I said … are … you … free … tonight?’ Her face held a huge smile that aimed straight at my heart, and if truth be known … a little lower. I just stood there, mouth open … fish impression firmly in place. ‘Tonight. You and me … do something fun. Are you up for it?’

  Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

  I didn’t say anything. I was stunned … erm … maybe stunned is the wrong word here. Gutted was more like it. Yes. I was gutted.

  ‘I can’t.’ It came out as a whine. I realised I was getting good at whining, especially when I saw the smile slip from her face and know it was because of me. The world had lost sunshine because of me. ‘I’d love to … but … I’ve … just …’ What? Said you’d see your girlfriend tonight.

  She isn’t my girlfriend.

  Really? That’s not the impression I got when you had your tongue down her throat.

  What don’t you just fuck off?

  Touchy. Are you ashamed of being a lezza?

  Just fuck off!

  You are, aren’t you? Ashamed …

  Why I am having an internal monologue, which actually consists of two voices? Mine and … erm … mine. Why am I feeling the pinch of coming to terms with a growing confusion of my sexuality? Why am I so upset that I had just made arrangements to see Sarah when all I wanted was to do was sit in Ash’s shadow?

  And all the while I was deliberating, she waited. Silent. Patient. Content to wait for me to finish the sentence I had started.

  ‘ … made arrangements with a friend from work.’ Friend as in girlfriend. ‘Maybe tomorrow?’ The hope in my voice was apparent, but it disintegrated as I saw Ash shake her head, and I knew what was coming next.

  ‘Can’t make tomorrow.’ My heart sank even further, if that is possible. ‘But Tuesday’s good for me.’

  Was I metaphorically skipping? Most definitely.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SARAH WAS ON time. I was early. Call it nerves.

  Ever since Ash had left, I had been replaying the events from the previous night. Sometimes it was me and Sarah … and sometimes Sarah was replaced by someone else … and I don’t have to tell you who that was.

  She took me to a café in the heart of Manchester. It was trendy, and students from the university surrounded us. Conversation once again came easy, as we talked about what our futures would hold. Sarah wanted to go into Social Work and I was leaning towards that field too, although I also knew I would change my mind many times before settling on a career.

  Before we knew it, it was ten o’clock and we were being ushered out of the door. I have to admit it … I’d had a good time. Relaxed … casual.

  On our way home, I could see Sarah keep sneaking looks over at me. Excitement burred inside my gut at the expectation of kissing her again, although I did feel weird getting my knickers in a twist at the prospect of kissing another woman. Doubt vied for dominance. This wasn’t right. Wanting to kiss someone of the same sex wasn’t right … why did I have to be different to everyone else? Why did I have to want something different to everyone else?

  Apart from Sarah. A snigger held itself behind my lips and waited to be freed. Not tonight … that snigger was staying put.

  Once again I had missed Sarah asking me a question. I just said the first thing that popped into my mind. ‘Whatever.’

  And this led to a very interesting evening. A very interesting evening indeed.

  Good job I hadn’t been listening, right?

  The question must have been ‘Would you mind going somewhere else before I drop you off?’ I doubt I would have said yes if I had been listening, so … in retrospect … I’m glad I have the attention span of a fruit fly.

  I watched in fascination as she manoeuvred her car down the dark country lane that led to the Vale, a nature reserve that was reputedly the high spot for couples. Anticipation guided my thoughts as she pulled up underneath a tree that blocked out the last vestiges of light from the night sky.

  The car was strangely silent, and I am sure I heard a pin drop somewhere outside. The squeak from her leather seat made me start, and I turned to face her, barely making out her features, just her shape.

  I felt her hand take mine, cool, yet slightly shaking. Her thumb brushed over the top in much the same manner as she had done the previous night at the pictures. My breath caught in my throat and I wanted to reach forward and kiss her again.

  The moisture in my mouth was beginning to form, just as it was between my legs. I must be gay … must be. I had been in situations like this with boys and all I felt was boredom … nothing in comparison to this wild, unchained feeling that decided to make itself known to me tonight.

  Her voice whispered to me in the darkness, sending messages to all parts of me that needed to hear it. Soft, smooth, alluring, enticing. The words she said were nothing spectacular just ‘You know I really like you, Lou?’ But to have a woman say them to me … phew.

  My tongue poked out and wet my lips. She mimicked the action, making me want to do it all over again just to see her repeat it.

  She leaned towards me and I followed suit. This was it. The kiss I had been anticipating all afternoon, all night …

  Her lips slipped onto my own as if they had always known the way. And I melted …

  Slow movements at first, but they gradually began to build and build and build. Our breathing was getting heavy, panting, unrestrained. Snuffling noises matched the sloppiness and wetness of two mouths thoroughly engaged in combat. Tongues were slipping in and out … touching and caressing swollen lips. Hands began to tangle in hair and I felt Sarah pull me into her, and I went willingly.

  God I was horny. She was horny. We were both so horny … so fucking wet. I felt her hand sneak down the side of the seat, and before I knew it, the chair was reclining, taking both of us down.

  She was above me, her lips never leaving mine. Her body was hovering slightly over mine and I could feel a rhythm starting within her … her hips were moving up and down … up and down, trying to find purchase on something.

  And I should know, because I wanted the same thing. God … the ache building up within me was crazy … agony … bliss. I lifted myself up from the seat, a mammoth task in the space provided, and attempted to slip one leg between hers.

  Her mouth left mine and began to kiss my face before moving down my throat, her hot tongue tracing a line down the overheated flesh. A groan left my lips, which was shortly followed by a moan from Sarah … a moan that travelled along my skin, between my breasts, down my stomach and straight into my groin.

  Hot lips suckled my neck, and I could feel Sarah’s fingers fighting with the buttons of my top. Pop. Pop. Pop. Slip. Stroke. Stroke. Fuck me … the sensations rattling around were becoming overbearing. Sarah was pushing the suffocating material away to expose my bra, which by now only half covered my breasts. Wetness enveloped my nipple
, bringing it to attention even more than it already was. Jesus … it was … oh God …

  Sarah’s lips were in control. I felt as if my whole body was taken over by a greater being … a greater need. And I didn’t care … God no.

  My breathing was laboured, my heart was working so hard I felt the vestiges of delirium take me. My fingers were in her hair pushing her face into me … wanting her to eat me whole … eat me alive. Hips were pumping against legs … jeans chaffing my need, hoping for something more … something solid.

  A fleeting image of Ash’s face flickered in front of me, and I felt a tinge of shame. Whatever would Ash think of me if she could see me now? Surely she would think this was wrong … this unnatural act between two women. Wouldn’t she?

  A pause. Only briefly, as I attempted to dispel this emotion. Sarah didn’t notice and began to caress the other breast, and I pushed it into her hand in attempt to recapture the magic of seconds before.

  However hard I tried, the feeling of shame gripped me. What was I doing? This wasn’t right.

  My hips stopped, and I gently untangled my fingers from her hair. Sarah started to slow down, as the realisation dawned on her that I wasn’t as into it as I had been, and lifted her face to look into my own.

  Concerned eyes, darkened by the night, searched my face for some rhyme or reason. I felt my heart crack just a little when she asked, so softly, so beautifully, so tenderly, ‘Lou … are you okay?’ A weak smile trickled onto my face, and I nodded. ‘Am I going to fast … I know … well … I think I know … this … erm … is your first time, right?’

  I nodded again, and found difficulty looking into her eyes, which I believed had the power to read my mind … don’t ask me why. ‘God … Lou … I’m sorry … so sorry.’

  With that, she lifted herself up from over me and plonked down back into the driver’s seat. She stared straight ahead of her into the blackness. I lay there, sprawled backwards on the seat, my legs spread, my breasts exposed. The cool air whipped around the exposed nipple, causing the wetness to feel like ice, yet dry it off at the same time.

  Slowly I sat forward, fumbled at the base of the seat to bring me back to sitting position, before popping my breast back into my bra, and, with unsteady fingers, began to button up my shirt.

  It was totally quiet. I honestly believed I could hear the buttons pushing back through the material.

  Sarah’s fingers were gripping the steering wheel, and I could see her head dropping forward, her eyes scrunching up … her lips twisting into a grimace.

  What if she didn’t want to see me again? What if she thought I was frigid?

  Panic shot through me. I know, I know … one minute I was so turned on I didn’t think anything could stop me, the next shame, then fear. In hindsight, it was probably the most natural feeling in the world for the newly discovered lesbian … well … not even just for lesbians …

  ‘I’m sorry, Sarah … ‘

  I didn’t get the rest out.

  Sarah’s head shot around so quickly, I had to refocus my eyes. ‘No! I’m sorry Lou … God … I really like you … really like you. I’ve blown it haven’t I?’

  Huh?

  ‘Huh?’

  Her hand came out and gripped my own, her face panicked. ‘I’m sorry … I don’t know what got into me … God … I went too fast didn’t I?’ I tried to say she hadn’t, that I wanted what she had wanted, but she didn’t give me chance. ‘I promise, I won’t do it again … you mean too much to me … too much. Can I have another chance? Please?’ I could hear the pleading tone in her voice.

  To say I was startled would be an understatement. To say I was touched would be redundant. So, I did what any right minded girl in my position would do.

  I leaned over and kissed her.

  Hard.

  An hour later saw me at home, dishevelled and smiling like a Cheshire cat. I didn’t even notice that my shirt was buttoned up completely wrong, and only got an inkling when I saw my Mum look down at my now ruffled top.

  Good job it hadn’t been Jo … as she wouldn’t have been as forgiving. The ultimate twenty questions would have been well underway less than thirty seconds of me closing the front door. Thankfully, she was staying over at ‘a friend’s house’, or as I knew it … her boyfriend’s. But my parents, bless them, were truly ignorant of their children’s nocturnal meanderings.

  After making them both a cup of tea (with mutterings of ‘personal slave’), I feigned tiredness, trundled upstairs, performed my ablutions, and slipped under the covers.

  Images of what had transpired between Sarah and I danced about my head. We hadn’t progressed past the kissing and breast fondling stage, but boy … we were both panting before Sarah put the brakes on things.

  I just wished she had told my libido that it wasn’t getting anything else. My groin was throbbing with unrequited need and I knew sleep would be a long time coming.

  Especially if I didn’t find some kind of release.

  I lay there in the darkness thinking of Sarah’s kisses, her smile, her lips, her mouth, her tongue … on my breast, and I felt a surge of desire scoot southwards. A thin line of sweat formed on my top lip, and I licked it off enjoying the saltiness that greeted me, enjoying the sensation.

  God. I was dying here. I was being consumed by a need that far out weighed anything I had ever experienced before. Unconsciously, my backside pressed into the mattress, pushing my wetness into something firmer. It felt good … not exactly enough, but a start.

  Inquisitive fingers slipped underneath my t-shirt and grazed the underside of my breast. Now … that felt good … but still not enough.

  A little more boldly, I ventured to the centre, only to be stopped by a very aroused and taut nipple standing waiting for some company. With the tips of my nails, I flicked it from side to side, whilst quickly holding the gasp within my mouth. My eyes fluttered closed. This felt good … really good.

  Using my index finger and thumb, I casually rolled the nipple around, causing a fluttering to concentrate in the area, causing a pooling to congregate between my legs. Hips had decided to begin a dance, as I pressed and released my hips from, and into, the mattress. I crossed my legs and glorified in the contact as I squeezed the limbs together.

  Obviously, still not enough.

  I needed more. Definitely … something more.

  Using my free hand, I brushed the outside of my shorts, above the throbbing, and stifled a groan. Before I knew it, my hand was inside, fingers combing through the soft downy hair before venturing lower.

  Much lower.

  A solitary finger dipped between the folds and was greeted by a wetness.

  And it felt wonderful.

  I pushed down even further, and pulled the lonely digit back up to nestle in the hairs again, sighing at the same time.

  A second finger joined the first, and they both slipped, effortlessly, between the folds, straddling my clit, just adding enough pressure to make the tingles turn into to sparks of light.

  And back up.

  And down …

  And up …

  The moisture was becoming thicker and more needy … or was it me becoming more needy?

  I had set a rhythm up …slow pushes … slow pulls … slow pushes … slow pulls. But this was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep up. The hand fingering my nipple was increasing the tempo, increasing the pressure, so therefore … harder pushes … harder pulls … quicker pushes … quicker pulls … hard quick pushes … hard, almost grasping, pulls. Hips joined in, aiding the pace, the mattress was a good battleground for the fight in my hand … my increasingly wet hand … the hand that was becoming progressively more frantic with this growing desire within me … this raging desire that threatened to knock me unconscious …

  But … I was loving it … loving the friction this hand, this mattress, these fingers could inflict on my unspeakable need … my growing delirium.

  Nipples were forgotten as I grasped the whole breast in my hand
, and squeezed and rubbed. The hand down my shorts was increasing the pace and I was panting unrestrainedly. I was clenching my legs around my hand … falling deeper and deeper into this sensation.

  In my state, I imagined blue eyes in front of me … like they were part of this experience. The image only made me pump harder with both hands … my breast was loving the attention, but not as much as my wetness. God … it was loving it … I was loving it … loving being loved …

  I was staring straight ahead, enraptured and captured by the blue gaze … the crooked smile … the twinkling blue gaze … twinkling … twinkling … twinkling …

  ‘Fu …uh …uh … uh …ck!’ It came out as a hiss, as the orgasm ripped through me, leaving me shaking … leaving me wanting … leaving me craving those blue, twinkling eyes.

  The eyes of Ashley Richards.

  Not Sarah’s blue eyes … as it should have been … but Ash’s.

  I turned onto my side feeling an emptiness fold over me like a blanket. I should have been ecstatic. But I wasn’t, obviously. I should have felt the droplets of sleep envelop me. But I knew sleep would be a long time coming. I should have been content with what I had with Sarah. But I wasn’t.

  She wasn’t enough for me, although I wished she was. Because the person who could fill this ache didn’t think of me that way. And it was something I had to live with.

  Ashley Richards.

  Now … she would be enough …

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  TUESDAY NIGHT EVENTUALLY crawled around and stood languidly at my door, saying in an off hand manner ‘Whatever.’ I must have lost weight, as my appetite plummeted and every thing I put in my mouth tasted, and had the texture of, cardboard.

  Sarah had called just before I had left and asked if she could see me that night. I didn’t even feel bad when I told her I had made other arrangements, but when I heard the disappointed ‘Oh … right’ and then the silence, I suggested Friday. I could hear her smile down the phone. Jo had been watching from the doorway, feigning reading the back of the newspaper, but I knew by her stance she was ear wigging.