Out and Proud

by Lisa Young

  Satisfied that she had mastered the basics of oral, fingering, and frottage, Lottie had yet to encounter the infamous strap-on until Alice had produced it from the naughty drawer the previous night.

  “Bugger,” Lottie mumbled aloud.

  She was wracked with pangs of regret that her fear of being judged by others had led her to delay her coming out. She was painfully aware that her lack of sexual experience with women was a direct result of these fears, and she worried that this would handicap her relationship with Alice, where she was desperate to be seen as a sexual equal. Checking her phone for the hundredth time that morning she noted no message from Alice. Fuck, she thought, I’ve blown it. Although they’d parted on good terms, she had a lingering doubt that her less than fabulous bedroom performance may have put Alice off.

  Her finger hovered above the accept new call button on her work station but she fell short of pushing it as her thoughts wandered, and she inwardly cringed as her mind flooded with memories of her inexperienced sexual encounters during the past months. The wrong hole epic had definitely ranked at the top of her most cringeworthy experiences to date.

  Lottie sighed and her finger traced Alice’s name on the desk. She was devastated to think that the past night could have slowed such a promising start for her and for Alice. Shaking her head in an attempt to regain her focus, she chastised herself, and reasoned—well, two holes, it’s so confusing and they are so bloody close together. She wondered whether she was always going to feel like a born again lesbian virgin forever.

  One thing Lottie knew for sure was that she had seriously underestimated the differences between sex with men and sex with women. Despite her dislike of the penis, hairy chests and sperm, she had children and so knew what was required of a woman in pleasuring a man. In all things heterosexual, Lottie knew that generally men were pretty simple to please and usually took the lead. Sleeping with a woman, however, required her to be more proactive and there did not seem to be a particular role she could adopt. She had assumed that following her more innate and natural sexual desire to be with a woman would inevitably make her first experiences with women more spontaneous. After all, this was what she really wanted.

  Lottie had always known, deep down, that she was attracted to women, but she had so desperately wanted children that she had tried to bury her fleeting attraction to other females. With a wry smile she acknowledged that it was inevitable that her true self would eventually surface, and she knew for sure that she did not regret it. After having her two sons, she felt less need to masquerade as something she was not, and the process of becoming her real self had released a reservoir of energy and enthusiasm for her new life which had previously been banked, while managing her continued deception as a heterosexual woman.

  She glanced idly around her sparse workspace, noting the lack of photographic evidence of her outside life. Colleagues had commented on her blank pin board, fishing for details of her world, but Lottie had decided that when she started her new job she wouldn’t be as out and proud as she had previously been. After several failed promotion attempts in her previous job, including a run-in with a lecherous supervisor who wanted to watch, she had decided that being out at work was probably more trouble than it was worth. Nevertheless, the difficulties in maintaining a conversation while referring to a sexless partner had not been lost on her.

  Virginia, a gay colleague and, increasingly, a close friend, seemed to manage this with ease, and could often talk for up to an hour without revealing that her partner was a female. Lottie, on the other hand, had always found this an incredibly difficult task, with conversations quickly becoming disjointed while Lottie stumbled out her sentences in an attempt to keep the conversation in a neutral sexless zone.

  Lost in her own thoughts, Lottie failed to notice the triangular lights on the wall illuminating in unison, indicating an increase in the call volumes coming through.

  An authoritative shriek from her supervisor about forty calls waiting shook Lottie back to the present and she hurriedly fake-typed to buy herself a few more precious minutes of thinking time before she returned to the monotonous world of classified advertising.

  To her left sat Linda Lovely, a talkative and slightly scatterbrained colleague who was difficult to ignore. Lottie could feel Linda’s curious eyes boring into the back of her head, hoping for some eye contact that would be her cue to chatter. Lottie had deliberately turned her chair to prevent any accidental eye contact with Linda.

  Lottie found Linda an odd, yet endearing soul. At the age of twenty-eight, Linda was fully ripened for marriage and babies. Lottie accepted that most women of that age were preparing to step into the next stage of life, but she couldn’t help but think that Linda’s lack of success so far was partly, or almost completely, due to the air of desperation she exuded. It was not lost on Lottie, or any of the call centre crew for that matter, that Linda was a full-fledged man predator. Lottie determined that Linda must have a built-in new man radar which efficiently detected a fresh testosterone presence within fifty feet of her regular seat in their workplace. Her unusually long neck allowed her to give a good impression of a meerkat in heat if a male specimen appeared in her sights.

  When Linda was appraising, or rather stalking, her potential

  prey, she would begin in a relatively subtle way, starting with the odd surreptitious glance. However, as the testosterone filled her nostrils and the subject got closer in proximity, her self-restraint rapidly became severely compromised. Without fail, she became increasingly excitable, glancing nervously around as she monitored the competition of other singletons in the office who might also have eyes on her prize. If she was able to establish that she was a lone hunter, her arousal levels hit the roof. Her waist length hair, dyed black and frazzled by over drying, resembled the fine strands of candy floss, and a once-natural curl had been reduced to a wild frizz. Unfortunately, she viewed her hair as one of her seduction tools and she would wildly toss her mane in an attempt to gain attention. Sadly, oblivious to her own ever more excited state, she would begin to giggle nervously but with a pitch almost too high for the human ear to process. The volume of this high-pitched giggle would inevitably increase, resulting in a simultaneous snort as she frantically calculated how she could fake an encounter with the unfortunate target. Linda also had another distinguishing feature, a pronounced limp from a childhood injury. When in a state of heightened excitement this limp would become more obvious and she would become clumsy, often walking with a lurching gait as she headed towards the male object of her affections.

  This time, the arrival of Jonno, the son of the local sandwich

  shop owner, kindly delivering a lunch order, was the trigger. Grabbing a copy of her Sponsored Slim form, Linda waved in an attempt to attract his attention. Hoping to halt his progress through the office, she leapt to her feet and lurched towards him snorting and giggling simultaneously. Lottie had observed this dance of the hunted prey on a number of previous occasions, her own amusement overridden by mortal embarrassment on Linda’s behalf, as she registered the panic of the selected target. In an attempt to maintain an appropriate boundary, Jonno gave a stiff nod, hastily placing his basket of wares as a physical barrier between himself and the mad one. Lottie noticed that he smiled politely, without making eye contact while he skilfully sidestepped Linda as she stumbled forward. She caught her foot on a bin and landed in an undignified heap in the space which he had occupied only seconds before.

  Without looking back, he moved swiftly towards the exit, expertly depositing sandwiches on desks without stopping to chat, while continuing his journey away from Linda’s desperate clutches. With an inevitable look of utter defeat and rejection, Linda lurched back to her desk next to Lottie and consoled herself by leafing furiously through the latest edition of Bride magazine, her constant companion at work. Lottie risked a small concerned smile. Attempting to demonstrate her solidarity while avoiding any committed eye contact, she focused instead on Linda’
s pin board which proudly displayed a variety of elaborate wedding gown cut outs, ideas for table decorations, and the latest in glitzy Aberdeen wedding venues, which were numbered in order of preference.

  Feeling sorry for Linda but nevertheless glad of the distraction from her own misery, Lottie cringed as she took an appraising look at Linda’s choice of workwear for that day. Linda was a firm fan of the motto T-shirt. Lottie was pretty sure it was virtually impossible to buy T-shirts with marriage quotes from the local shopping centre and she feared that Linda had mail-ordered her custom-made attire, which appropriately reflected her dedication to the quest for marriage. Today’s T-shirt contained a quote she recognised from Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.

  It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

  Lottie inwardly shook her head as she dragged her attention back to her workstation. Glancing at the clock, her thoughts returned to her own sexual exploits, and she desperately wanted to discuss her feelings in more detail with her new friend and colleague, Virginia.

  Lottie and Virginia had met some months earlier when they had both auditioned for parts in a local amateur production of Tipping the Velvet. Even after being chosen by the New York Times as their book of the year in 1998, it seemed that the locals of the village of Pennan, where Lottie lived, had not been ready for the lesbian-themed voyage of self-discovery and first love. Once the local village council had caught wind of the intended lesbian themed subject matter, a meeting had been hastily convened. The members had voted unanimously that the church hall should not be available for such a pornographic depiction of first love. The self-appointed director, a local bohemian female sculptress with an undisclosed sexual history, was quickly dispatched and a newly appointed director, who also happened to be the longest standing member of the primary school Parent Teacher Association, was ceremoniously appointed. After a short discussion, it was agreed that they would opt instead for a safe production of Gregory’s Girl, a wholesome heterosexual tale of coming of age and love in a small town. Much to their disappointment, both Lottie and Virginia had secured minor nonspeaking roles as part of the crowd in the girl meets boy scene.

  Unsatisfied with their acting debuts, they had bonded over

  their disappointment and shortly thereafter took similar positions in the call centre offices of the local newspaper, as tele sales operatives in the classifieds advertising section. The happier outcome was that they had quickly developed a satisfying and mutually supportive friendship. It helped that Virginia was forgiving of Lottie’s late coming out and was happy to provide advice and support to Lottie as she blundered from one dating disaster to the next. Virginia showered Lottie with love and support as she battled to establish herself as the newly-birthed lesbian of the village of Pennan.

  A loud siren screech again jolted Lottie back to her tele sales reality, as her frazzled supervisor swept through the office waving with near hysteria at the flashing lights on the wall. The siren heralded an unacceptable level of forty-three calls which were patiently awaiting an answer. The office descended into a flurry of activity, and Lottie reluctantly clicked her accept new call button, aware that an encounter with a grieving widow calling to place an In Memoriam advert for the anniversary of the death of her dearly departed spouse would considerably jeopardise the possibility that she could coincide with Virginia in the canteen for break.

  However, she was in luck, and after quickly dispatching a call from a poodle breeder, she left the office to the relative sanctuary of the canteen, where Virginia beamed a greeting. She waved her towards their usual table, on which was a latte grande and a substantial slab of deliciously heavy lemon cake. Lottie plonked herself down unceremoniously and sighed. Virginia smiled in anticipation and raised an inquisitive eyebrow as she waited for a blow-by-blow account of the past night’s date with Alice.

  Aware her back was becoming increasingly painful, Lottie adjusted her position on the cheap plastic chair and tried to reach around to soothe it. Clearly, strap-on sex worked muscles she had previously been unaware of, and she inwardly smiled at the unplanned aerobic benefits of her workout.

  Virginia rubbed her hands together and leaned forward in anticipation of the latest instalment in the saga of Lottie’s love life.

  Suddenly shy, Lottie reminded herself that Virginia had briefly had a fling with Alice before she had settled down with her long-term partner, the lovely Jess. Although Virginia had dismissed her knowledge of Alice as a drunken fumble, Lottie knew they’d dated for a few months. She couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of disloyalty towards Alice as she contemplated discussing the details of the past night with her friend. Nevertheless, she was desperate to unburden herself to someone, and Virginia was a solid and reliable source of common sense. She seemed genuinely delighted about the blossoming relationship between the two and had expressed a fondness for Alice, who she thought was a thoroughly good catch. She also knew that Lottie had strong feelings for Alice, despite the newness of the relationship, and she had already revealed her opinion that they were very well matched.

  Both women were animal crazy and as Alice was the local vet, it had been Virginia who had introduced them, as she struggled to get Lottie to understand that her cat had serious mental health issues and posed an imminent threat to the life and limb of any visitor who passed through the doors of Lottie’s chaotic nest. It was an ongoing bone of contention between herself and Virginia, as Lottie continued to assert that her cat had anger management issues rather than a full-blown psychosis. She felt this was easily manageable if she kept Boots at a safe enough distance from any form of human contact. Of course, this had not been a fool proof plan and, after a particularly nasty incident involving a trip to accident and emergency with her youngest son’s best friend who had come for tea, she had agreed to seek medical assistance for her personality-disordered pet and Virginia had recommended Alice.

  While Alice had been compassionate about the difficulties of Boots the cat, after several return visits, she finally realised that Lottie had an ulterior motive for her appointments, and so she made the first move, asking Lottie out for coffee.

  Lottie finished recounting her sorry tale of woe. Virginia mopped up the last of Lottie’s untouched lemon cake and smiled a kind, wry grin. “Practice makes perfect?” she offered lamely.

  Lottie sighed. “Oh, V, when will I ever make it in the world of lesbian sex?”

  Virginia chuckled. “You already have, silly girl. It’s all about the connection. Alice really likes you, and the rest will come with time.”

  As if to affirm the words of wise Virginia, Lottie’s phone pinged with an incoming message from Alice which contained a variety of emojis including a heart and a picture of a flower.

  Lottie smiled. She knew for a fact that Alice was worth it, and she was going to conquer her fear of the strap-on if it was the last thing she ever did.

  Coming Out

  THANKFULLY, THE WEEKEND soon arrived, and as Lottie skipped out of work on Friday evening she did the weekend dance. She drove home a little faster than usual, keen to deal with the wishes and wants of her two boys, Archie and Robbie, before she headed to Aberdeen for a well-deserved night out with her best friend, Mel.

  As she slowed to negotiate the difficult descent to the small seaside village of Pennan, Lottie tried to do a mental inventory of the contents of the fridge. She was only too aware that as a parent of a teenager and a tween, she needed a well-stocked fridge and a plentiful supply of patience to deal with the day-to-day dramas of teenage living. Being a dating parent, she was concerned that, in recent months, her parental duties had suffered and so she was determined to rectify this before she headed out for a carefree night on the mojitos.

  Expertly parking her little MINI adjacent to her cottage, she was careful to leave enough room for other cars to pass and access to the harbour ramp, which must always be kept clear. The small and picturesque vil
lage of Pennan was home to only a handful of residents, who all lived in a row of small cottages nestled into the rock at the bottom of the cliff side. Access to Pennan was via a single-lane road winding tightly around the cliff, with a sheer drop on one side, and stunning countryside with seasonal bright yellow gorse and purple heather on the other.

  Lottie paused for a moment to breathe in the strong, salty air of the north-east Scottish coast, as the resident seagulls bickered between themselves about the abandoned scraps of a picnic. Lottie surveyed the small street and marvelled that she never grew tired of the dramatic coastal beauty of her home. At the bottom of the road was a small stony beach area where the occasional tourist, who had wandered off the coastal path, would uncover the hidden gem at the bottom of the steep and treacherous clifftops. Those lucky enough to discover the village would inevitably stay a while to enjoy a wee dram at the village pub. Lottie glanced across the familiar beach area to where the gulls had made homes in the crevices in the cliff side. In the early evening, they could be seen roosting, their unified squalls guiding in the final stragglers to settle as they saw out the darkness of the night. Mingled with the crash of the waves against the fallen rocks which formed a barrier to the edge of the cliff, the cacophony of sound was a soothing seaside lullaby to Lottie.

  Sighing with deep satisfaction, she lifted the stiff latch on the cottage door and was greeted by all the signs of the teenage life form dwelling within. The monotone of rap music droned relentlessly down the stairs competing with the noise of the Disney channel coming from the TV in the living room. Assured that both boys were home and engaged in their various interests, she shouted a quick greeting.