Message-ID: <59463asstr$1255176601@assm.asstr.org>
From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable
NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 9 Oct 2009 02:27:09 +0000 (UTC)
Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
Injection-Info: d9g2000prh.googlegroups.com; posting-host=222.127.245.29; 
	posting-account=JabuVAoAAACpzQZHTRyS7ub3Un5mIVxy
User-Agent: G2/1.0
Subject: {ASSM} (REV) Scenes from a Life by Rachael Ross (F/f, Teen, First, Lesbian,  Rom)
Lines: 941
Date: Sat, 10 Oct 2009 08:10:01 -0400
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Scenes from a Life

Copyright 2007-2009 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for
adults only. rache696@yahoo.com
Story Codes: F/f, Teen, First, Lesbian, Rom
Synopsis: A teenage girl struggles with her emerging sexuality and the
difficulties of being gay.

The Trials and Tribulations of Being Me -
Scenes From A Life
By Lisa Pavageau

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


Scene 1: Any family gathering between 1993 and 2000


Everyone is here. My Uncles and aunts, cousins, friends and family. We
eat, we laugh, we play little games about our lives. But I have a
secret. Perhaps some others here have secrets, and I sit and wonder,
hoping I'm not alone, but knowing that I am. You cannot know how this
feels.

"So, who's your new boyfriend, Lisa?" someone will ask. Not that I've
mentioned one, it's merely a device, a clever method to bring up a new
subject. An old subject, by the time I'd turned eighteen.

"Mmmm, no boyfriend yet." I shrug and smile, pretending that I'm
lying. There must be a boy, after all, because I'm so young and pretty
and smart.

"I remember when you were five and I asked you if you were going to
get a boyfriend in school. Remember that?" This from my Aunt Susan,
the closest thing I've had to a mother for many years.

I smile politely, having heard the story countless times. It isn't a
very good one, but she enjoys the memory, and tells it every time.

"You told me, 'No!' and you were so serious!" Aunt Susan laughs,
drinking more wine. "I asked you why not?"

"Why not, Lisa?" my twin sister, Rachael, teases me from across the
table. She knows why, but I know all of her secrets too.

"I remember," I nod, looking down and feeling a little embarrassed to
be at the center of a conversation. Even such a small and meaningless
one.

"And you said, 'Because, I want a girlfriend!'" And Aunt Susan laughs,
clapping her hands as if that's the funniest thing in the world.
Everyone else just smiles, because they know that story too well.

What they don't know is that it's true. I've always known I'm gay,
before I even knew there was a word for it. Before I knew the real
differences between boys and girls. Afterwards, when I realized I was
different without knowing how or why, I led a double life. Keeping the
secret safe. I went out, sneaking into lesbian bars, underage and
frightened, meeting people. Meeting...women. Looking for what I'd only
imagined in my heart - a girlfriend.

=-=-=

Scene 2: In the basement with Rachael. September 1994


My sister and I had our first menstruation barely a month apart.
Rachael suffered some embarrassment, coming unexpected and without
experience like it did. The episode seemed only mildly frightening to
me, and slightly humorous as our father had no idea how to deal with
it. He called his sister, Susan, and she came over to help.

When mine came, we were ready, but I didn't like it. I didn't even
expect it, not really, but my denial was foolish and I'd never
imagined myself a boy; I just didn't want to be a girl. I shouldn't
have been having a period. That was the worst, the way my body
betrayed me like that, proving with painful finality that I was in
fact a girl.

I sat in the darkened basement, crying, hitting my stomach with tiny
balled fists. I hated my body. I hated myself. I didn't understand why
I'd been born this way. I didn't ask for it, I hadn't begged God to
make me a girl, or give me feelings that didn't belong in this body.

"Are you okay?" Rachael sat nearby, not touching me, just hugging her
knees and watching. "Lisa?" she whispered in a soft and frightened
voice. We were alone, our father gone to work.

"Leave me alone," I told her, staring down at my hands. I felt hot and
headachy, grown fat with little cramps and wet with tears. Lots of
tears.

"It's okay." She didn't really know what to say. "It's just your first
time. It's okay."

"I don't want it!" I screamed at her.

"Nobody does." She left me and that made it worse.

She didn't really understand me then. It wasn't the menses I hated so
much, it was what it represented. The thing behind the thing, I
chiefly hated. We were 12 years old.

=-=-=

Scene 3: November 1st 1995 in our bedroom


Rachael won't get out of bed. She came home this morning, before the
sun came up. Our dad thought she'd stayed over with a friend, but she
hadn't. She'd gone to a party with her boyfriend. We're only 13 and
already she has a boyfriend. I don't. All I have is a crush on one of
my teachers, Mrs. Gable, and I dream she will love me too. That one
day she will find me alone after school and tell me she understands.
That she loves me. That she wants to kiss me. My heart won't let me
imagine more; it isn't necessary.

But Rachael. Her boyfriend is eighteen already and he took her to a
party. I don't know what happened, only that she won't talk to me. She
won't get up. She won't even look at me. She's so tired, I know, and I
climb into her bed. Just to be close, feeling frightened for her. She
pulls away, turns over so she faces the other way.

"What happened?" I whisper, but she won't say. Rachael and I stay like
that a long while. I think I fell asleep, perhaps she did too, but now
we are awake.

"What's it like?" Rachael whispers.

"What?" I whisper back, even though it's noon and we're alone in the
bright room.

"Liking girls." She won't turn over.

"I don't know," I shrug. "It's not like anything."

Quiet. We're very quiet again.

"I had sex last night," Rachael says, and I think she's crying.

"Really?"

"Don't tell Dad." She is crying.

"I won't."

And then she tells me how it hurt and how it was more than once, with
not just her boyfriend, but other guys too. She wanted to do it with
her boyfriend, but not with his friends. He made her do it, Rachael
told me. If she didn't do it, he wouldn't love her anymore. That's
what he'd said.

"I wish I was like you." Rachael turns over finally, and I put my arms
around her, as if I might protect her somehow. "I wish I liked girls."

"No you don't," I told her. But maybe I was wrong.

=-=-=

Scene 4: The Casa de Blanco 1998


There's a club, more of a bar really, called Casa de Blanco. I know
about this place because of rumors. Everyone says it's a gay bar, a
lesbian bar. The people who say that make funny noises, roll their
eyes and laugh. I do the same, pretending to find such an idea equally
revolting. I'm fifteen-years-old, nearly sixteen in a few months, and
I'm so desperate it hurts.

I go to school and see girls that I know. I'm drawn to them sexually
now, emotionally. I want to reach out and touch them, to confess my
feelings. One girl in particular, several years older than I am, named
Beth. I think I've never seen a girl so beautiful in my whole life. I
write her poems, unsigned, and put them in her locker. I confess
everything to her, except who I am. And what I am, I cannot bear to
tell her, even anonymously, that I too am a girl.

But I need to feel something, someone. I have to have it, this thing I
imagine love to be. And that's how I'm decided to go inside this
place, this Casa de Blanco and find it. I've told Rachael what I'm
doing. I even asked her to come with me, but she won't. I'm so afraid.
My heart is pounding and I can barely breathe.

I've dressed to look older, I think. I hope. But I'm still barely 4'11
and 85lbs of teenage girl. My hair is long and black, loosely tied
behind my back. I'm wearing a white blouse and a pair of jeans, so
dark they're almost black. With one inch heels on my feet and probably
too much makeup. I never wear makeup and Rachael helped me, but it
feels like too much. Lipstick alone would feel like too much, though.

We're Amerasian, my sister and I, although our Filipina blood is more
Spanish than oriental. We look more Mexican than anything else, and
I'm hoping this will help me look older. That and the dim lights
inside. It's a small place, but the music is loud. And I am so scared
as I walk in, trying not to look around too much. Trying to look like
I've been in bars lots of times. The place isn't very crowded, perhaps
a dozen people are there, mostly women, but some men too. They're
playing pool or sitting at the bar or talking around small booths
against the wall.

"You have to be 21 to be in here." The bartender is a woman, old like
my dad, I think. She sounds not angry, just deliberate as she kicks me
out.

I look at her, unable to look into her eyes though, and nod. My throat
feels so dry, if I tried to talk it would be a croaking sound. I don't
move though, not right away, even though I want to run.

She gives me a barely there smile at least. "Do you have an ID,
sweetie?" She knows I don't. "You can't stay."

"Okay," I try to say, but nothing comes out and I do turn away then.
Feeling embarrassed, as if everyone is staring at me. Wanting to run
and forcing myself to walk with a dignity I don't possess. I go home,
feeling worse than I ever have before. I don't know what I'm supposed
to do. There's no one I can ask, no one who has the answer. I can't
tell any of my friends, any of the girls at school. I'm sure none of
them are like me, they couldn't be. I'm more alone than ever.

"How did it go?" Rachael asks me. We're in her bedroom and I'm an inch
away from losing it completely. Any second I'm going to cry again.

"It didn't." I wipe at my eyes. "I got carded."

"Duh!" Rachael laughs. "I could have told you that was gonna happen."

"Why didn't you?" I glare at her, transferring blame and she shrugs it
off.

"What are you gonna do?" She asks and I don't have an answer. "Look,
if all you want is a kiss with a girl...just kiss me."

Rachael's become weird. Ever since she lost her virginity, things have
been different for her. She has sex all the time, with anyone who
asks. She takes pills and smokes and drinks, her grades are bad and it
drives me and our dad crazy. She writes about dying and killing, and
cuts herself, although she thinks I don't know about that. We're still
friends, still close, but were less like sisters now.

"It wouldn't be the same." I shake my head. "It would be weird."

"Come on, Lisa. Who cares? You need sex! You can fuck me, I don't
care."

I don't know if she's serious or teasing me. All of our conversations
these days seem to be woven with lies and truths and hurtful things. I
always think it's just her, just Rachael being weird, but maybe it's
me too. I can't tell sometimes.

"That's the point." I have to wipe my nose because I'm crying. "I do
care. I want to be with someone who cares. Not you."

=-=-=

Scene 5: The big white house in Everett June 1998


We moved. As if everything wasn't bad enough, we packed up and moved
2000 miles. We'd known it was coming for a long time, but we'd ignored
it, Rachael and me. A week after school let out for the summer, two
months before our sixteenth birthday, we moved to Seattle.

No friends. School is out, so we can't meet any, except the people we
see on our street. Time moves slow and we spend our days unpacking,
rearranging, and settling into a quiet, lonely existence. I write my
friends back home, my real home, this place - this Seattle - will
never be home, I'm sure. I write my friends and tell them I hate it.
How all the people here are different and strange. How the weather
sucks and the houses are ugly.

Rachael wants a boyfriend and within a few days she has one. A new
boyfriend to go with her new home, how easy for her. All she has to do
is smile and let him feel her up, and she's in love all over again. I
ignore the boys, the men, the guys, all of them. Staring at me,
smiling at me, saying hello. I hate them all because they want me. It
isn't fair.

I want a girlfriend, but I can't get one. I'm too afraid to approach a
girl I find attractive. I follow them sometimes, at the mall. I might
see a girl and think it would be nice just to know her name, to say
hello and find out what kind of books she likes. What music she
listens to. I follow her until she meets her friends or family, or
simply leaves without me. And I'm alone, wondering how I'm supposed to
do anything.

I'm sitting on the steps of our walk, not the house proper, which is
set back a long ways from the street. But on the two steps that rise
from the sidewalk to our walkway, straight as an arrow across the
broad lawn to the front door. I'm waiting for the mailman if anyone
should ask, but they won't. Some people go by on bicycles, a
motorcycle, some cars, a man running his dog. We've been here two
weeks and I'm dying inside.

"Hi!" her voice surprises me. I hadn't heard her approaching, although
the roller blades she wears are loud on the asphalt.

"Hi!" I smile back, mostly out of reflex, but then I look at her.
She's blonde and pretty, in a wholesome, Americana sort of way. Like a
girl from a Rockwell painting. Except for her clothes. She's wearing
short shorts, cut off jeans with loose threads hanging everywhere. A t-
shirt, red and white with the Coke logo, showing off her full breasts.
She's beautiful with her long, not yet tanned legs and graceful arms.

"I'm Jenny. I live down there." She gestures vaguely down the street.
"You live here?"

"Yeah," I nod. "We just moved in. I'm Lisa."

"Cool." Jenny sort of circles around a little on her blades. "Pretty
boring, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You got any blades?"

I shake my head. "I've never done it."

"Want to try mine?" She wonders with a smile and that's how I meet
Jenny.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I had my own roller blades the next day and we spent the summer
hanging out. Jenny was sixteen too, and bored, and I spent the days
with her at my side, giggling and talking and going wherever we
wanted. I spent the nights with her too, in my dreams, kissing and
touching, whispering and making love.

She met Rachael, of course, and they hated each other. I don't know
why. Rachael won't tell me, even to this day. And Jenny, she just
thought Rachael was my evil twin. Everybody's got one, Jenny would
laugh, mine was just more obvious. Her words bothered me sometimes,
but I largely ignored it. Blaming Rachael, for the most part and
suspecting she was jealous in some way.

The first time I slept over at Jenny's house was very difficult. Being
so close to her felt like an ache. Watching her undress, and me
undressing shyly for her, although she didn't know it. Everything I
did was for her. I knew her family already, they were nice, and I
painted her toes. They were nice too, and I could have done that
forever. Sitting on the floor, Jenny on her bed with one leg down, the
other pulled up so her foot held the edge of the mattress. And me
sitting there on the floor, looking at her toes, and beyond them to
her white panties stretched tight over her sex. Catching a glimpse of
her brown pubic hair when she moved, just a bit, curling out one side
or the other.

What could I do?

I tried to kiss her. I did kiss her, while we lay there in the
darkness of her bedroom. The lights were off, her small radio played
softly. We were facing each other, under the covers, and talking.
Jenny wanted to tell me what school would be like, what I could
expect, and her restrained excitement made me smile. We were both
smiling and I just did it. For no reason, without thinking, I kissed
her on the lips.

She didn't move and neither did I. I knew I shouldn't have done it, I
knew it right away, and I tried to say something, anything to make it
right. But I was lost.

"It's alright," Jenny told me a minute later, after she'd thought
about it. "I'm just not like that though. Okay?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling my heart dying inside, more from embarrassment
than anything else. I hated myself right then and I felt so stupid.

"Don't be mad," she said.

"I'm not," I replied with my eyes closed, my arms hugging my breasts
tightly.

"Me neither," she promised. "We can still be friends, right?"

"Yeah."

And we were friends after that, as if nothing happened, which was more
Jenny's doing than mine. I was frightened for weeks afterwards, sure
that one of those days she wouldn't answer my phone calls, wouldn't
want to go to the mall or roller blade or just hang out with me. But
she always did, and that only made me love her more. And she knew that
I think, or at least suspected, but Jenny didn't show any fear of it
and I never tried to kiss her again.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Scene Six: A party at Alki Point in August 1999


I'd come with Rachael to this party, like a big outdoor Rave. She was
pissed again. Her boyfriend had been cheating on her and Rachael had
dumped him...Again. All that meant was that she was looking for
someone to fuck her, anyone, because that might have proven she was
worth something. I'd tried to talk her out of going, but not very hard
because I'd wanted to go myself. Summer had come around again and I'd
spent most of it with Jenny, as much as I could, but she had found a
boyfriend and that cut way down on our time together.

It also made me a little jealous, and I felt guilty about that. Jenny
was my best friend and I should have been happy for her, but I wasn't.
So I wanted to go out, with my sister - meaning alone - and just be
crazy. I felt reckless, there's no other way to describe it. I'd aced
school the previous year, finding it ridiculously easy, and I'd played
the good girl to my sister's evil. Now I just wanted to cut loose, for
one night in my life.

"Hey! You need some of this!" a girl said to me, a girl my age, or
maybe just a little older. I couldnt tell.

"What?" I looked at her and the place was full of people, a couple
hundred kids dancing, and all kinds of chaotic. I'd already gotten a
little drunk, filling my plastic cup from whoever happened to be
passing by with a bottle.

"Some glitter!" the girl laughed and she had a small, plastic jar,
like the kind baby powder comes in. She started shaking it all around
us, into the air so it got in our hair and skin, and on our clothes.
It was funny and insane.

"Hey...You want some?" Another girl was there, maybe twenty-years-old,
walking around in a wet t-shirt with a red bikini underneath.

"Sure." I held out my cup and she poured half of hers into mine.

"You dance?" she asked and I nodded and we didn't even bother moving,
the whole place was a dance floor.

It was fun and I laughed, dancing with this girl, covered with glitter
and balancing my drink. The music was loud, thrumming deep bass and
techno screams, and I felt like I was flying and we were close, this
girl and me. Getting closer, smiling and nodding our heads, and her
leg went between mine and I grinned, lowering my hips and riding her
thigh.

Somewhere I'd lost my drink and she held her glass to my mouth,
pouring it wetly between my lips and spilling some down my chin. She
gave me all that she had and then put her arms around me, licking the
alcohol off my face, and then we kissed, my mouth still full of
peppermint schnapps. I used my tongue to push it into her mouth, not
understanding yet that this was my first real kiss with another girl.
And I didn't even know her name.

I'd worn a pair of tight hipsters and a t-shirt, and I felt her hands
on my ass, and I had mine under her t-shirt, feeling her warm damp
skin. We were just making out, moving against each other, but it
wasn't dancing. I knew people were watching, but a lot of people were
doing the same thing we were and neither of us cared very much about
anyone right then. We stayed at the party for awhile, staying very
close together and not really talking or anything, just dancing and
laughing and drinking. Someone passed us a joint and we smoked some,
making my head buzz even more.

Rachael found me at one point, saying something about going home with
some guy. I was too stoned to care and I just nodded.

"Let's go," the woman said as she took me by the hand, leading me down
the street. It seemed like a long walk and I didn't mind. It had felt
so warm at the party, all those people and the music and the lights.
But as we made our way up the hill it started getting cooler and my
head cleared a little, enough so I had the sense to ask her name.

"I'm Heather." She smiled at me, a soft warm smile too. She seemed
different then. At the rave she'd seemed wild almost, stronger and
larger or something. Now she stood just a little taller than me,
slender and shaking loose her dirty blonde hair as it clung to her
neck and shoulders. We were both damp with sweat and spilled drinks.

"I'm Lisa," I said. "Where are we going?"

"I have a car. We can go to my place, if that's cool?" Heather still
held my hand and I suddenly realized that what I'd been looking for
had finally found me.

"Yeah." I swallowed nervously, feeling excited and just a little bit
afraid. "That sounds okay."

"I gotta drive slow," Heather giggled. "I'm pretty buzzed."

"Me too," I nodded as we drove out of West Seattle towards the
interstate. She promised it wouldn't be too far. Heather lived in
Renton, in a condo she shared with a friend of hers.

"She's cool though, she won't care." Heather seemed relaxed, smiling
and talking like this was no big deal. "She knows I'm queer." And that
honesty, the way she just said it, amazed me for some reason.

I spent much of the ride listening, nodding my head and trying not to
do or say anything stupid, anything that might ruin what was
happening.

"Are you out?" she asked me.

I had to think about that for a second, just because I hadn't expected
it.

"I guess not." Heather laughed when I didn't answer right away.
"That's alright, I won't tell." Her hand found my thigh, her fingers
stroking my leg, and I laughed with her.

"I've never done this before," I said, without meaning to.

"Done what?"

"I've never been with anybody," I confessed, thinking that sounded
kind of dumb. "But I want to, you know?" I giggled nervously. "I
really want to."

"That's okay," Heather promised me. "I've been there, believe me.
It'll be nice, okay?"

"Yeah," I agreed, really wanting it to be nice.

"In here...Shhh..." Heather shushed me with a grin, leading me by the
hand and giggling. "Here..."

We found her bedroom and Heather turned on the ceiling light, but only
long enough to find her lighter and light some candles, then she
turned the light off. She had a small bedroom, but very pleasant.
Comfortable and warm, and well-worn, you know? A twin bed and a desk,
some books and clothes everywhere. Heather gathered some skirts and
blouses and panties off her bed, tossing them towards her open closet
with a playful shrug.

"Maid's day off," she sighed, falling onto the bed. "Come here."

I'd never been so nervous in my life, but it was an elated, excited
nervousness. A happy feeling of desire mixed with fear of the unknown.
I sat on her bed and then lay back, laughing softly as Heather moved
her arm to catch me, pulling me close and turning her body. I wasn't
sure how fast or slow I wanted to go, but the woman had brought me
here for one reason, and she kissed me before I could even catch my
breath. Softly at first, with lips still tasting of peppermint.

I opened my mouth for her and Heather's tongue slipped inside gently,
her hand moving to my breasts. I wasn't wearing a bra and she played
with my hard nipples through the cotton of my t-shirt, making me moan
as I sucked her tongue. I'd just turned seventeen the month before and
I was finally having my first kiss. If my inexperience disappointed
Heather, she didn't show it. Her hands were very tender and just
kissing her made me hot all over. I moved my hands across her body,
feeling her bare skin as all she wore was that bikini under her own t-
shirt, and that was soon gone. I pulled it over her head and a moment
later she had mine off as well. And then my pants, kissing my
trembling tummy as I kicked and Heather pulled.

"Come here now...Let me see you..." she whispered, peeling my panties
down slowly, and I could feel her breath on my skin.

I could only lay there, watching her, and I felt so hot inside. My
pussy had grown wet like I'd peed myself. I'd never been so wet and
she hadn't even touched me there yet. I felt Heather's fingers on me,
on my sex, and I spread my thighs as she gave my pussy its very first
kiss ever. I almost came then, I was so close, and I lifted my ass,
pushing myself up against her mouth. Heather teased me, pulling away
and giggling at my breathless protests.

She just wanted to get undressed as well. Heather knelt between my
legs, her pretty face smiling at me as she reached behind her to
unclasp her top, tossing it away so that her beautiful breasts hung
free. They weren't overly large, but they were perfect to me, and her
nipples were long and hard and dark. Heather pushed her bottoms down
as well, showing me her plump sex covered with hair that hid her lips
and clit from my view. But I knew they were there and I longed to feel
her pussy, to play with it and kiss it.

I reached for her, lifting my hands to touch her smooth thighs, but
Heather didn't come to me, instead she put her own hands beneath me,
under my ass and pulled, making me gasp and giggle as she lifted my
butt off the bed. My legs went over her shoulders and she held me with
her mouth at my raised cunt, while I lay on my upper back and
shoulders, looking up at her. She grinned like a sexy blonde wolf and
her mouth made wet, sucking sounds. She stiffened her tongue, which
seemed very long as she pushed it inside me easily. Heather was
fucking me that way, with her arms around my waist and her breasts
against the small of my back. She had me almost upside down and
helpless as she moved her head back and forth, jabbing her tongue
inside me and occasionally taking long soft licks from my ass to my
clit.

I laughed and moaned and gripped her sheets in my fists as I came. It
was my best orgasm ever, the first I'd had with another person, and I
writhed in her arms, my thighs pressed to her flushed cheeks. The room
was spinning and my pussy seemed to suck at the woman's tongue. She
ate me like that for a long time, sucking and licking and driving her
tongue over and over inside me. The pleasure was raw and insane and my
body seemed to turn inside-out with the effort of embracing this new
experience.

When it was my turn, Heather let me go, lowering me gently and sliding
up my body so that her sex covered my mouth. I wanted to taste her so
badly, and I'd been telling her so for some time, in between my moans
and groans and happy cries. I'd never done it before, tasted another
girl, but I didn't hesitate. I stroked her thighs, ran my hands around
her hips and ass, wanting to touch her everywhere as I took my first
taste, kissing her sex and feeling her soft curling pubes tickle my
cheeks and nose. I could smell her excitement, strong and musky, and
at the first touch of my tongue to her hot flesh, I tasted her juices.
Heather had a strong flavor, tart and almost bitter, but not quite. I
split her labia with my tongue and felt Heather's fingers in my hair.
Her voice was soft, but urgent, rewarding me and urging me to eat her.
She'd made me feel so good, now I did everything I could to return the
favor.

I barely knew what I was doing, and my tongue seemed to tire way too
fast, but I did okay. Better than okay. Heather had her orgasms, small
ones, pretty ones, and she'd grind her sex on my mouth when she came,
her juices seeming to run from her swollen labes as I pulled them into
my mouth, sucking and chewing them gently. I squeezed her firm ass,
digging my fingers into the girl as I held her to sex to my hungry
mouth. I thrust inside Heather with my tongue, trying to do for her
the things she'd done for me and she seemed to like it a lot. I hoped
so.

We kissed after that, relaxing and holding each other. I loved the
feeling of her hard nipples against mine and I moved my body up and
down slightly, just so I could feel them against my breasts, rubbing
across my own stiff nips. Our legs were entwined and we could reach
each other's cunts, sort of. We were clumsy and giggling softly in
between kisses, but it felt so good. Fingering Heather slowly while
she played with my clit. We did that until we finally fell asleep
holding each other and I fell into a sort of happy, dreamy half-sleep,
more than a real one. I'd close my eyes and forget where I was, and
then maybe twenty minutes later I'd wake up and I'd remember. I'd kiss
Heather's sleeping face, her slightly open mouth, just a little.
Perhaps she did the same with me.

Eventually I did sleep though and I woke up to the sun coming through
the windows. And Heather was there, apart from me now, but her legs
were still over and under mine. I felt tired and I wanted to close my
eyes, but I had to pee and that urgency grew quickly until I couldn't
ignore it. I got up slowly, carefully. The candles were still burning,
they were all large, thick ones, and I blew them out and looked around
for my clothes, finally finding my t-shirt and pretty much horrified
by the look of it. It was really bad, stained and smelling of alcohol
and sweat and smoke. I knew my body couldn't have been much better and
I really had to use the bathroom, so I skipped putting on clothes
altogether, hoping Heather's condo was as empty as it sounded.

The bathroom proved easy to find at least, right next to the bedroom,
and I went in quickly, suddenly afraid I'd pee on the floor because
when my bladder decides to go...it goes. I was sitting down, sort of
bent over, enjoying the feeling when I heard someone say "Heather?"
and I hadn't closed the door all the way, just given it a little push
behind me. It opened and some girl stood there in a big t-shirt and
looking surprised, as she should have, I suppose.

"Oh. Sorry." She closed the door quickly and I felt my cheeks redden.

I snuck out of the bathroom after I'd finished, longing to use the
shower, but afraid the girl, Heather's cool roommate, I guessed, was
waiting to use the toilet. I settled for washing my face real quick in
the sink, rinsing my mouth with water because it did feel like
something had died in there. I took a quick swallow of some mouthwash
that I'd found near the sink, but that was all. I crept back into
Heather's room, closing the door behind me and crawling into her bed
with a sensation of indescribable happiness. I curled up with her,
gently, not wanting to wake Heather and just laying there, thinking
this was it, I was finally happy for once in my life.

I might have been in love with her, with Heather, but I wasn't quite
that bad. I was in love with Jenny, I knew that, and I felt a little
guilty being with another girl and wishing she was Jen. I felt guilty
both because I knew Jenny wouldn't ever be like Heather, but also
because Heather had been my first and I guess I felt like I owed her
more loyalty than wishing she was someone else. I did love her, how
could I not? But I'd seen what love had done to my sister, sex and
love and confusing the two, so I had to be wary as well, you know?

Basically, I felt scared. I didn't really know what was going to
happen, like any teenage girl feels the first time, I suppose. Except
I think most of the other girls, the straight girls with their
boyfriends, they at least know that the guy is their boyfriend. I
didn't know what Heather was to me, or me to her. Was she my
girlfriend now? I didn't even know her last name. I'd known her for
like twelve hours or something, so what did that mean? Did she love
me? I had questions and doubts and fears and all I could do was lay
there.

"Heymmmmm..." Heather stretched, smiling at me. "Good morning," she
smiled, her voice sounded lazy and tired.

"Hi." I smiled back, rubbing her arm slowly.

"What time is it?"

"I don't know." I giggled a little. "Daytime."

She reached for the nightstand, knocking one of the candles over as
she felt around and finally found a little golden watch. "Mmmm, I have
to get up. It's almost noon."

"It is?" I blinked in surprised at that, thinking it had to be early
for some reason.

"I have to go to work." Heather started getting up, moving lazily and
she gave me a brief kiss. "I need a shower. Do you want one?"

"Oh yeah." I laughed and I felt very self-conscious, but we were both
dirty and sticky and unattractive right then.

We showered together, which was nice, really nice. No sex, not really,
we just washed each other and it was nice and we spent a long time
doing it, until the water started running cool. I could have made love
to her again, right after, and I wanted to. Heather was very pretty, I
thought, very sweet and friendly. Carefree, or careless maybe,
something like that. We talked very little though and I felt a bit
uncomfortable at times, but she seemed so natural, so relaxed. This
was how life my life could have been, should have been, and never
was...until now.

I put on my pants, not bothering with my panties; they were hopeless.
I just tucked them into my purse, zipping them into one of the little
pouches inside. Heather gave me a clean t-shirt, an old one with the
word 'Zesty!' across the chest.

"Do you need a ride? Where do you live?" Heather asked me. We were in
her little kitchen, eating microwave bagels and drinking instant
coffee.

"Everett," I shrugged. "I'll just catch a bus, its okay."

"Yeah, that's kinda out of my way." She smiled apologetically. "I'm
going downtown. I can drop you there if you want."

"Sure," I nodded.

Heather hadn't said anything about calling me, or offered me her phone
number, or said if she wanted to see me again. It made me nervous, a
little anxious actually, because she was the only girl I knew in the
whole world that was a lesbian like me. I wouldn't say I felt really
desperate not to lose her, but as we drove downtown in her little car
I could feel myself getting that way.

"So..." I swallowed nervously. "Do you want to go out sometime
or...something?"

"Yeah, I would..." She smiled at me and Heather looked beautiful, I
thought, now that she was made-up. Her blonde hair was clean and
brushed, she wore nice clothes and just enough makeup to her pretty
face beautiful.

"Okay." I smiled back and felt so relieved right then.

"...but, I sorta have a girlfriend, you know?" Heather looked at me,
apologizing with her eyes. "We're kinda serious."

My heart was dying and I froze the smile on my face, forcing myself to
nod. "Okay. Sure," I said, or something like that.

"I'm sorry." Heather continued, basically telling me that she'd just
wanted a one night stand. A quick, easy fuck while her girlfriend's
back was turned.

"No, it's alright." I looked around, not wanting to get mad or cry or
anything. "I can just get out here. It's okay."

Heather didn't argue with me. She just pulled over to the curb. We
were near the stadium, passing through Seattle's fading Chinatown.

"You're really great, Lisa," Heather said. "I wish..."

"Yeah. I know," I tried to smile, nodding my head and I thought she
wanted to kiss me goodbye, but I just got out, feeling like I was
running away.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Scene Seven: Three days later, University Medical Center...Still
August 1999


"How are you feeling?" I asked Rachael, putting my hand to her
forehead like she had a cold or something.

"Bored. Pissed. Fucked." She stared at me. Rachael hated everyone now.

"That about covers everything, I guess," I sighed. "Why'd you do it?"

"Where were you at?" she asked, maybe accusing me or maybe not.

"Jenny's house." I pulled up a chair, next to her bed.

"Yeah, good for you." Rachael nodded. "You fuck her yet?"

I didn't look around, I knew the room was empty and it wasn't very
large anyway. Our dad had left us alone for a little while. He needed
a break. I needed one too and I started getting up just to punish her.

"Sit down. Don't be mad." Rachael waved with her fingers, which was
all she could do since her arms were strapped down. "I'm sorry, okay?
I'm sorry."

"Why'd you try to kill yourself?" I asked again, sitting back down.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Seemed like fun, something different."

"Just tell me, please." I leaned close, touching her. "You made me
cry." I was getting ready to cry again, seeing her there.

"I'm just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all." Rachael's
eyes were sad. "There's no reason."

"You shoulda talked to me. You shoulda said something," I told her,
but I knew inside she'd been trying to talk to me for a long time. I
just hadn't listened. No one had.

"You got your own problems." She smiled and lowered her voice, sharing
a secret. "We're never gonna be happy, Lisa."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Scene Eight: Christmas 2001, Everett


I was happy.

Home for the holidays, but home with a purpose. I'd brought Julie with
me to meet my family. We'd gone to visit her family over Thanksgiving
in Spokane. Now we were in Everett, just arrived that morning from
Pullman where we went to school together. College had been my
salvation, if you want to call it that. Away from home, away from Dad
and Rachael, away from Jenny, who was still my best friend in the
world. College had saved me.

I'd met Julie in one of my classes during my freshman year and we'd
quickly become friends. Sometimes we teased each other about which of
us had hit on the other first, but I tend to think it was me. Either
way, within a few weeks we were living together, making love as often
as we could for the first six months and then finally settling down
into a comfortable relationship, perhaps realizing that we had our
whole lives ahead of us, together...maybe. We were nineteen and
wonderfully in love.

She's tall and blonde. I guess I have a thing for blondes. And one of
those athletic people that I don't quite understand, but envy. Julie
plays soccer and she's good at it, and volleyball too. She's very good
at that, which is why she'd come to WSU in the first place. My
scholarships were academic, Julie's were athletic, and so we made a
pretty good team, Jules and me. I love her body, I'll tell you that. I
mean, she isn't stunningly beautiful, her hips are too narrow and her
breasts too small for that, but she's strong and toned and the first
time I saw her stomach I tingled. Muscles. Not masculine, but utterly
female and I'd kissed her taut belly over and over, enjoying Julie's
strength.

I'm much the opposite and she likes me that way. Soft and not fat by
any means, just comfortably soft with my firm round butt and upturned
breasts. Julie's hair is shoulder length, pulled back into a short
ponytail usually. She likes mine long and loose, falling in a dark
cascade across my brown shoulders and down my caramel back. We're
different in many ways, but happy in that, and interested in enough
things together that we don't mind the rest. We're comfortable doing
our own things as well and being apart once in awhile isn't a crises.
We trust each other.

Rachael had enrolled at WWU by then, going to college up in Bellingham
and living with her boyfriend, a professor ten years older than her
and into BDSM. She was still fucked up, but taking her meds and seeing
her doctor. We talked on the phone every week, if not nearly every
day. Sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for a few hours. I wasn't
going to cry for her again, not if I could help it. We were friends
again, me and my sister, although I worried over her constantly.
Rachael would be down Christmas Eve, she'd promised. She wanted to
meet Julie and she was happy for me.

I wasted no time. In Spokane, the month previous, Julie had held my
hand and told her parents everything. We're gay. I'm her girlfriend
and all that. She'd told them the first night we were there, right
after dinner and before we'd unpacked our bags. She'd laughed and told
me there wasn't any sense unpacking if we were going to be leaving
right away, and that was as far as her nervousness went. Or so it
seemed to me. I'd been more frightened than Julie had been, but all
I'd had to do was sit there and look pretty. Her parents had accepted
the news, and me. They told us that they'd already guessed as much a
long time before.

Now it was my turn and while I felt anything but confident, I put on a
good show for Julie, telling her we could unpack later and she knew
what I meant. I was going to do it right away and if it turned out to
be the end of the world? Fuck it. I thought my dad would be okay
though, I really did. I was the good twin, the one he was most proud
of, although he tried not to show favoritism. He loved Rachael
equally, she just made it a lot harder for him. Me telling my dad that
I'm a lesbian wasn't going to make anything easier, but he'd be okay
with it. I hoped.

Julie and I cooked, because my dad is helpless in the kitchen,
although he'll argue that with you. The fact is that he can cook like
three things, and they all come out of boxes or cans. "Macaroni and
cheese isn't food, Dad," I said, shaking my head as I looked through
the cabinets. "You should have said something, we could have stopped
by the grocery store."

"Oh, there's food there," he said with a smile, sitting at the
breakfast counter. "You just have to use your imagination."

Julie was digging out some pots and she laughed at him and they were
getting along well, which really made me happy. He'd asked her about
college, like Dad didn't believe the stuff I told him. And Julie had
talked about herself, and Spokane, and what she wanted to do with her
life. I talked too, feeling very much at home again. I'd missed it
terribly, as I always did. We were happy, all three of us, and we'd
made a tuna casserole which wasn't really awesome, but good enough for
the moment. We had a nice, casual dinner and sat there afterwards and
that's when I did it.

"Dad..." I cleared my throat and reached under the table for Julie's
hand, giving her a squeeze and she squeezed me back. "I have to tell
you something. It's about me and Julie."

"Okay." He lifted his hands a little.

"We're gay, Dad." There wasn't anything else to say. I mean, that was
it and all I had to do was get the words out. They'd never come back,
the past would be over. "Julie's my girlfriend."

"Ahhh..." My dad looked down for a second and then looked up. "Well, I
guess that's up to you." He didn't really smile, but he tried to.

"You're okay?" I asked him, not wanting to hurt him more, or change
his mind, but I had to know he was alright with what I'd just said.

"Me?" He did smile then. "Julie, did you ever hear the story about the
time Lisa's Aunt Susan asked her if she wanted a boyfriend?"

"Oh, Dad..." I sighed and rolled my eyes and Julie laughed.

"Uh, no, I haven't heard that one." She looked at me and her eyes were
so beautiful, brightly blue and shining.

"It's a dumb story," I said, holding her hand in mine, above the table
now and I brought it to my lips for a kiss.

"Lisa was just starting school. Only five years old then, and Susan
asked her...."



-=-=-=-=-=-=-
the end
rache696@yahoo.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <story-submit@asstr.org>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-admin@asstr.org> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+