by Sacchi Green
“Don’t be stupid, I’ve been dating Jake for, like, a year. I’m so not a lezzie. I mean, girls always make out with each other on those videos, you’ve seen it! Boys totally love it when we do that. It was all just for fun.”
“Yeah, but, like, when other girls do it? It looks, like, fake. Like they don’t really want to. You and Lynne, though, were totally going at it! I mean, you kept going even after the camera guys were done. What was up with that?”
I shrugged and filled my mouth with toast. “Still don’t remember,” I maintained, spraying crumbs everywhere. “Like I said, I was way trashed.”
Finally they dropped the subject, and when we went back up to the room, Lynne didn’t bring it up either. I didn’t know if she actually had been too drunk to remember, or if she was really embarrassed and didn’t want to talk about it, but she didn’t act like anything had happened.
I couldn’t forget, though. The rest of the week was a blur. I probably looked normal on the outside, drinking and partying and flirting with boys like always, but on the inside I was still in that one bar, my arms around Lynne and my mouth pressed against hers. Once or twice I caught myself staring at her, remembering what she smelled like.
I didn’t know what to make of it. I couldn’t be gay, I had a boyfriend! Lynne and I had been friends since the first day of freshman year. And yeah, I always thought she was really hot, and fun to be around. I was closer with her than I was with Beth and Lindsey, but it wasn’t like I had a crush on her or anything. And besides, I liked skirts and makeup and stuff. Didn’t lesbians have to play with trucks when they were little, and wear boy’s clothes and have short hair? I didn’t do anything like that. And, I mean, I was so fucking drunk. I knew once I got home and saw my boyfriend I’d be back to normal.
Jake was really sweet, too. He met me at the airport with a dozen red roses! He took me straight to the fanciest restaurant in town, with tablecloths and candles and everything. He had made reservations, and got champagne, and just treated me like a princess. I told him all about my trip, except for that one part, of course. I knew he’d probably think it was really hot—he’d actually asked me if I’d be willing to do a threesome sometime. But I just didn’t want to tell him about it, it seemed too private. Still, dinner was really nice.
After dessert he drove me back to his apartment. We went into his bedroom and started to make love. Usually he wasn’t that big into foreplay, but I guess he figured that tonight I should get a little extra. He started playing with my nipples until I was moaning. Then he slid his fingers under my thong and started finger-banging me. After a few minutes I started pushing against them, trying to show him where my clit was, but he thought that meant I was about to come so he took them away and got out of his pants. He asked me to go down on him. I didn’t mind, so I went to work, licking and sucking and not really thinking about anything at all except how much unpacking I had to do the next day. Luckily it was a Saturday, and classes didn’t start till Monday.
Once his dick was hard, he laid me down on the bed and got between my knees. When he started humping away, I made the expected sounds, gasping and saying “Oh yeah, just like that.” Then, out of nowhere, I started thinking about Lynne: the way her lips tasted, how soft the skin of her back was under my hands, how she shivered when I just barely grazed her breast. I tried to wrench my mind away, but suddenly everything Jake was doing to me felt a little better. In my mind his broad back and narrow hips became her soft curves. I imagined that each thrust of his dick was a penetration by her warm hand, and I moaned louder. The sound must have excited him, because he started pumping even harder into me, jarring me out of my reverie. Before I could get the sensation back, he shuddered and came into the condom I made him wear.
He lay heavily on me for a minute, then kissed me and heaved himself off. He rested one hand on my tit.
“How was it, babe?” He always asked, and my answer was always the same.
“Really good, baby.” This time it was almost true. Usually after sex I’d spend the night at his place, but once he started yawning I rolled off the bed and started getting my clothes.
“Hey, where you going?”
“I’ve just had a really long flight, spent the whole week sleeping in the same room as three other girls. I need a night alone, is all. Tonight was great though, sweetie, really.”
“Aw, okay. You want me to drive you home?”
I shook my head. “It’s fine, the bus is right outside. You go to sleep.”
“See you soon, babe. Love ya.”
“Sweet dreams.”
I went back to my dorm and pulled out my vibrator. That little battery-powered lifesaver was why it didn’t bother me that Jake could never give me an orgasm. I got plenty on my own. I switched it on and held it between my legs, and unbidden, Lynne came floating into my mind again. I turned it off quickly, suddenly scared. First I couldn’t get her out of my head during break, then she popped up while I was fucking Jake, and then again while I was trying to get myself off? What did it mean? Was I actually gay? I dropped the vibrator back in my sock drawer, grabbed my teddy bear, and tried to fall asleep. When I woke up to my alarm the next morning, I couldn’t remember what I had dreamed about, except that whatever it was had made me feel warm and safe.
The four of us had all picked the same major, so it was no surprise to walk into my first-period communications class and see Lynne sitting there. Still, I felt my breath catch in my throat, and my heart pounded rapidly as I dropped my book bag onto the chair next to hers.
“Hey,” she said, tucking a fiery curl behind her ear.
“How’s it going?” I asked, praying that the heat I felt rising in my face wasn’t a visible blush.
“Ugh, I can’t believe the year’s almost over! We’re going to be seniors!”
“I know, crazy, right? Seems like just yesterday you and me and Beth and Lindsay met at freshman orientation. Where’d all that time go?”
Lynne smiled. “It’s been great, though. I had a lot of fun in Cancun with you girls. I really feel like we all got even closer.”
“Me too.” I wondered if she remembered, if she had been thinking about it. Before I could work up the nerve to ask, we heard Beth and Lindsey from all the way down the hall, arguing about the ethics of not telling your fuckbuddy about your boyfriend and vice versa. They distracted us until the start of class.
“Finals are coming up,” the professor reminded us at the end of class. “In order to make sure you are all adequately prepared, I want you to form small study groups and turn in weekly reports on the readings. The first assignment is due Thursday.”
The whole class groaned. It wouldn’t be so bad for the four of us, though, since we’d work together. It was always more fun that way. We set the next night as our first study date, and decided to meet in Lynne’s room since it was closest to the center of campus.
I spent the next day on pins and needles. It took an hour to find just the right outfit, but I finally decided on my Seven jeans and a light pink tank top. I put on just a little makeup, some lip gloss, and mascara, and as I was combing my hair I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It looked like I was getting ready for a first date with some cute boy.
I dropped the hairbrush and looked at my reflection. “Stop it,” I told myself firmly. “Lynne is just your friend. This is not a date. She doesn’t even like girls, and neither do you. Okay? Okay.”
I looked sternly into my eyes, trying to make myself believe it, and then grabbed my purse and book bag and headed to Lynne’s room.
Surprise, surprise, Beth and Lindsay hadn’t shown up yet. I perched on Lynne’s desk and tried to make small talk while she straightened up her room. I told her about my date with Jake.
“And then after dessert he took me back to his room. It was really sweet.”
“Yeah? Did he make you come this time?”
I blushed. When Jake and I started dating, I mentioned to the girls that he sometimes didn’t let me finish,
so now every time I mentioned us making love they asked me if I got to come. I usually giggled and lied and talked about how great he was now, how many little tricks he knew, but tonight I didn’t feel like keeping up the charade.
“Of course not. He never does, why would he change now?”
“Wait, he’s never made you come before?”
I blushed and just shook my head.
“But he’s not the first guy you’ve hooked up with, right?”
“Nah. Freshman and sophomore year I went home with a few frat guys. Had a boyfriend in high school, we had sex in the backseat of his car.”
“Okay, but were any of them any good?”
I started to get annoyed. What was she, a sex therapist or something? “I mean, sure, I guess. Sex is always nice, it’s not a big deal if they make me come or not.”
“Sweetie, sex isn’t supposed to be ‘nice.’ You mean to say none of those boys has ever made your toes curl?” She walked over so she was standing in front of me. I started to tremble slightly.
“No, but, I mean, so what? I’ve got my vibrator. And it’s not like it matters that much. I don’t really mind. So long as they’re happy, you know?”
Lynne put one hand on each of my knees and spread them apart. She stepped closer to me, so that my knees were pressing against either side of her waist. “But Amy, what makes you happy?” She leaned in and just barely grazed her lips against mine.
I responded without thinking, gently at first, but when her tongue snuck into my mouth, I pulled back.
“Wait, but…what is…are you…?”
“I’ve known who I am since I was fourteen. Fell for you the first day of freshman year, but figured it’d wreck our friendship if I said anything. But over break…well, you don’t kiss like a straight girl, that’s all I have to say. And I saw how you looked at me after. Knew there was something inside you that you just couldn’t admit to yet.”
“But I’m not a—”
She cut me off. “It doesn’t matter what you call yourself, straight, bisexual, femme, whatever. All that matters is that you want this, and so do I.” She started kissing me again, one hand on my waist, the other playing gently with my nipple. I couldn’t resist and started kissing her harder, pulling her close to me. A sudden concern pierced my excitement.
“But wait, Lindsay and Beth are coming over to study! What if they…?”
“Don’t worry about them. I told them I was sick and had to reschedule for tomorrow. We’ve got all night to ourselves.” With that she took me by the hand and pulled me off the desk, our mouths meeting again in earnest.
We somehow made it to her bed without separating our lips. She peeled off my tank top, and I slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her pale breasts. She tugged off my jeans, and I slid my hands down her hips, removing her skirt. As she knelt there, almost naked, I couldn’t keep myself from grinning. My face must have mirrored hers.
She reached around to unhook my bra. I giggled. “You’re much faster at that than any of my boyfriends have been.”
Lynne smiled. “Well, you know, I wear them too.”
“You’re not wearing one tonight,” I retorted.
She shrugged. “Figured I’d make it that much easier for you.”
“This is the easiest decision I’ve ever made,” I whispered. I pushed her down and pulled her panties down her thighs. I wanted to go down on her, taste her, make her feel as good as I always wished I could feel. I gently nosed apart her pink lips and inhaled her scent, rich and tangy. It was my first time going down on a girl, but I knew exactly how to do it—all I had to do was exactly what I’d always wanted.
I started licking her gently, just barely pressing against her inner lips, up and around her clit hood. My hands crept gently up her belly, stroking her, and I grew light-headed from the sensation of her soft skin responding to my touch. She started to shiver as my tongue played around her clit, never touching the sensitive tip directly. She started to give me a little more guidance, pressing her flesh against my lips, showing me exactly how to touch her.
I couldn’t believe that I had to beg my boyfriends for five minutes of oral sex. I never wanted to stop. Lynne was getting wetter and wetter, and her clit had swollen so much that every lick seemed to be bringing her closer to orgasm. I experimented with everything I thought would feel good: circling, figure eights, licking straight up and down and side to side. I put my mouth around her clit, breathed hot air on it, sucked it gently like it was a tiny cock. She loved having my whole mouth cover her, so I started eating her in earnest, lapping like she was a girl-flavored ice-cream cone.
“Oh, yes, please, more!” she started to cry. “I’m so close…I’m going to come!” I kept my face down there while she bucked and writhed, letting her guide the action so that her orgasm was long and hard. When it was over she flopped back down, breathing heavily, and as I looked up I saw that her breasts and stomach were coated with a delicate sheen of sweat.
“Pretty good for a straight girl,” she said when she had caught her breath.
“I thought you said it didn’t matter if I was straight or not.”
“Mmm. Sure doesn’t.” With that she pulled me up close to her and kissed me deeply, my whole face still sticky with her juices. As we were kissing she lay back down, positioning me so I was on my hands and knees over her. Her mouth made its way to my breast, and I shuddered and moaned as she sucked on it hard, nibbling gently. One of her hands snuck up in between my legs, and I cried out.
“Feel good?” she murmured.
“Is this how sex is supposed to be?” I asked.
She didn’t answer, just looked into my eyes. Whatever this was, it sure didn’t feel “nice.” I moaned and rocked my hips against her hand. This felt even better than my vibrator. It was like she knew just how my body worked, just how to make everything feel perfect. I almost started to cry from pleasure. I spread my knees even wider apart, moved closer down, closer to her body. Her hand was strong and sure, she just kept stroking and caressing and circling me, and I knew she wouldn’t stop until I came. Her whole attention was focused on my body and its responses, and I let myself go, tossing my hair, crying out, letting her see on my face just how good she was making me feel.
I wanted the feeling to last forever, but finally I just couldn’t take it. “Oh, god, Lynne, I’m about to come…please don’t stop, please, please, please!”
“I’d never stop,” she whispered, and at that I exploded, bucking so hard the bed shook, and I came into her hand. I ground down until I trapped her wrist in between our bodies, making her laugh. When I couldn’t come anymore, I flopped at her side, one leg stretched across her lean flanks, and kissed her cheek.
“So that’s what it’s like when girls really go wild, isn’t it?”
She laughed. “Those poor boys have no idea what really happens when the cameras leave.”
ROAD TRIP
Kirsten Monroe
We decided to shave our armpits for our Saturday afternoon outing to the bar. Don’t ask me why. It’s not like we cared about impressing any coworkers who might show up, or any of the locals either—a bunch of aging, nicotine-stained biker dudes and babes. The Long Spur was the only bar within fifty miles, and it wasn’t much, but it wasn’t nothing, either, and cleaning up seemed like the prudent thing to do.
We’d been busting our asses for three weeks straight building trails across Idaho, our post-college graduation gig. We earned two days off to scrub off the dirt and down some beer. Come Monday morning, we’d be back on the line. That morning we arrived back at the bunkhouse all strung out, mosquito bit, and so ready for beer and loud music that we could have screamed.
So Millie and I shaved ourselves up, washed off the grit, and hit the road, radio blaring, armpits tingling, ready for anything.
We’d been smoking some weed scored from a local guy on the crew who had this stash in his trailer that looked like a bale of hay, all rough and stems, but so sweet and fresh that just smellin
g it made you feel like you were floating on a cloud.
We flew out of the bunkhouse with a six-pack for good measure, playfully racing each other to my beat-up Pinto. It was good to be alive. We were feeling fine, maybe too fine, and about halfway to the Long Spur, we got lost. The funniest part was, to get to the Long Spur from the Forest Service bunkhouse you didn’t have to take any turns at all. Turn left out of the driveway, head down the road for fifteen miles, and you’re there, big old neon Budweiser sign bringing you right in for an easy landing. How we got lost, I couldn’t tell you, but there we were, all cleaned up with our slick, sweet-smelling pits, and going in circles. I kept turning around in driveways, laughing my ass off, as if getting lost was the funniest thing ever.
Millie wasn’t much help. She made me pull over so she could look at the bark of a big oak tree. “Oh my god, Bryn,” she yelled, feigning panic. “Pull over! I don’t think that tree is real. I have to touch it.” She walked around and around that damn tree, fondling its bark.
“Jesus, of course it’s a real tree,” I yelled at her. “If it isn’t real, it wouldn’t be breathing and I can see it breathing.” That put us on the ground in a spasm of laughter. It took Millie forever to let go of that tree. She knelt to the ground and gazed lovingly at the “oak nuts” that had fallen around it. After an eternity of discussing the botanical wonders of the oak nut, we finally remembered they’re called acorns, and that was even funnier than going in circles.
We finally got back in the car and had ourselves pretty well straightened out when a huge eight-point buck leaped out of the woods, all legs and hooves and horns, nearly hitting us head-on and causing me to brake hard, sending the car skidding sideways.
By some miracle, we missed the lucky bastard. He shook his rack and took one long look back at us before bounding off into the woods. We pulled slowly to the side of the road and just sat there.
“Damn, that was close,” I said, my hands shaking. Millie sat for a long time with her head in her hands, bouncing her knees up and down. “Fuck the bar—let’s just stay here and get a grip. The beer is behind the seat.”
