I was in the geology student lounge, sulking after the Geochem final, which I had flunked and, with it, the class. So I sat by myself in an old wooden chair near the window. Outside, people walked by in the early summer sun and wispy clouds that blended into the light hazy of the mid-west sky. I could hear a lawn mower through the open window, the occasional shouted name or excited greeting of two students. The light earthy smell of some flower, which surrounded the Student Services Building next door to Natural Science, came in with the same light breeze that carried the sounds.
I had flunked exams before this one; this hardly having even been the worst. None these, however, made me feel this bad, because when I had failed those, I was either an apathetic high school student or a relatively carefree college undergrad. Now, I was in grad school, and earnest grad students do not fail tests, let alone, whole classes.
I stared at the far corner, as I thought about the should'ves, could'ves, and what-nows. The smells and sounds of summer entered only at the edges of my awareness. My focus was on the corner of the room, at the sloppy mess of a discarded newspaper, lying, not a wad but not a stack, covering and covered by tall paper cups of mostly drank cappinicino. The edge of the bottom half of a torn pizza box protruded from beneath an overworn easy chair.
My thoughts lived within a mind just like this room, I thought to myself.
That is not the point when the door opened to the lounge, but eventually, it did. I was studying the dried cheese melted to the box. My arms were folded across my chest in stiff and unrelaxed way. My brow was furrowed. My frown honestly hurt my face. I did not look up. I did not say hello. I just stared at grease-covered cardboard and thought at the intruder to go away as I prayed that who ever would stay.
"Kendra?"
I looked away from the corner, turning my head just a degree or two to the pest who had sat at the study table that posessed the room's center. It was Julie. Her gaze asked me if I were alright. I hoped mine were saying, don't ask, as I turned to look into her big brown eyes. For what it was worth, she did not.
Rather, she said, "I wanted to know if you would like to come over and watch a video tonight. Tina is coming over, and I thought we could have a girl's night in."
I shrugged my shoulders, "Sure, why not."
We made arrangements about when and how, the proceedings of which I paid only half mind. The rest of my mind spent the time playing with the memory of my failure and the open emotional wound as if it were a paper cut on my tongue.
"Kenny, what are you doing?"
Her words caught me off guard. It wasn't her calling me Kenny, everyone does that after awhile. It was what she asked that caught me unaware. It was not of the sort that one comes to expect when she is pouting, for it should be clear. Clear or not, I felt no need to lie.
"I'm feeling sorry for myself."
"Why are you feeling sorry for yourself," she asked.
This was a question I could handle in my own clever if bitter way. "Because no one else does."
"I feel sorry for you," she said in a soft voice.
I looked into her brown eyes again, and could tell she meant it. I so much wanted to put her to the test, but from somewhere, I found the control not to ask her, "do you feel sorry enough to make to me."
I haven't the room to list all the reasons that I couldn't say this to her. Mostly, I have a difficult time in finding the lesbians among the women I meet. Especially, the ones that I am attracted to. After a few unfortunate attempts in junior college that cost me several long-time friends, I learned to keep my feelings to myself.
The hurt with Julie started the previous year, before she had even started here. She was visiting to find an apartment to share with one of the students I had started with that year. She was finishing her bachelor's degree and was about to begin her master's. My roommates (Jeramy and Steve) and I had a couple of open rooms in the house we rented. They were interested, and I had offered to show them around the place.
They found someplace else just a few doors down the block later that day, but I had a chance to spend lunch with her, while Pat was on the phone with a building manager of one of the apartment complexes to which they were applying. We spent the entire time talking about ourselves, movies, books, and whatnot.
We had a lot in common despite differences in our backgrounds. My father was a career sergeant in the military and hers was a middle manager. This still lead to some shared experiences in home hopping and new schools and a good sampling of different parts of the country. We compared what we liked and hated about each of our stops as we grew up. We had each lived in different regions and at different times, but it added to the conversation rather than took from it.
Soon enough our burgers were eaten and the waiter quit bringing fresh pops (which Julie called sodas). In addition, Pat had finally gotten off the pay phone and wanted to go to the next place. It was near where I lived, and Pat, uncharacteristically, offered me a ride. I turned it down; I needed to search for a few things in the library.
I spent the rest of that school year and the entire summer regretting the loss of that last chance to be with her. It was a long summer anyway. My field work which had a never ending quality of the sort that caused the old cartoon character from "Calvin & Hobbes" to announce that "archeologists have the most mind numbing job." My weekends and sometimes several consecutive weeks were spent scraping dirt and eating ramen noodles, not always cooked. It became one long, endless Sunday afternoon, filled with contemplation into the loneliness I could not shake.
While no rule exists that a depressing summer should be spent being depressed, that is how I spent that summer. I had yet to shake it through a couple of terms. My grades, never the greatest, dropped like a stone. My performance as a teaching assistant declined as well.
The one bright spot was Julie, who went from a student in the lab I attempted to teach in Reservoir Geology to friend to really good friend. Along with Tina, who had gotten engaged to my roommate Steve, we became a regular grouping of friends for lunch and studying and trying to come down from the bad trip called grad school over videos and popcorn.
Of the two, it was Julie to whom I admitted that I was a lesbian. Not that it was much of a secret, I am certain that everyone but the densest in the department had guessed. Still, I felt uncomfortable with actually telling someone about it. Especially, as I felt that I was such a failure as one.
My telling her did give me a chance to bitch about my love life and the relationship to nowhere with the bartender at the place I would go to for afternoon coffee, who's harem I had been trying to break into for nearly two years. In turn, she told me about her friend Dave, the engineer who she wanted to date, who wanted to date her, but who appeared to be afraid of dating anything that was not IBM compatible and did not have internet access.
She never complained about it. Rather, she would make dry witticisms about the lack of attention from the closest she had to a beau in her life. These, also, dashed what little hope I could build that I would someday get close to her myself. In between, she would act just playful enough to keep me confused into thinking that she may have been flirting with me.
I would look at the bratty smile and her sparkling brown eyes as she told me and anyone around us that I was doing a good job teaching "for a paleontolgist," and I would melt. I imagined stroking her cheek but forced myself to quit. There was always Dave, just off stage, moving from a high paying computer job to a really high paying computer job. What shy, inexperienced lesbian would stand a chance?
Still, a shy, inexperienced lesbian could dream; I finally got something resembling a date with the bartender, which became a series, which went nowhere but to the movies. She had enough girlfriends to last her while she finished up her degree and prepared to move to (groan) San Francisco. I did not fit into her plans and after the third date, we went back to just talking when I showed up at the bar.
Between all of that and Geochem, I found myself at Julie's place that night after the final exam feeling like shit about myself and the world. Julie let me in, and I followed her into her living room after I kicked off my shoes and set them next to the door. She had a stack of homemade videos and a two-liter bottle of pop with a couple of glasses on the coffee table. She offered some to me. As I poured, she sorted through the tapes.
"What would you prefer teen angst or Godzilla?"
"Godzilla. Where's Tina?"
"Found out that she couldn't come at the last minute. Graham dumped an assignment on her."
"So its just us?" Pat was too hip to watch bad movies and would be out getting plowed.
"Yes," Julie answered with a big smile. "Just me and you."
Julie dropped the tape into the player and went to the kitchen to start the microwave. She returned to the player as it popped. When the bell rang, Julie was kneeling in front of the television trying to find the spot where the movie began. Not wanting to watch Godzilla back up from imploding buildings, I offered to get the popcorn while she finished with the video. She found the right place and announced her success as I was bringing the bag into the living room.
She took it and sat it on the coffee table within easy reach of the couch. I sat down, and she took a spot next to me. With the press of a button, everyone's favourite revived prehistoric reptile began to fight some unworthy, destroying a good portion of Japan in the process.
As the movie traveled along its predictable course, we laughed at the guy in the rubber suit, drank our pop, and ate our popcorn. Occasionally, our hands touched at we reached at the same time for a handful. The slight touch sent a shiver through me that was magical and painful together. I made no outward sign, but I feared that she would notice; I waited as best I could until she had already gotten some before I reached into the bag.
The movie outlasted the popcorn, and I began to regret my decision to avoid the little contact that I was getting because of it. I took a quick glance at her face. She was engrossed in the movie, not watching me in the least. I looked into her large, brown eyes, slightly magnified by her the lenses of her eyeglasses. I sighed softly to myself and turned away to the concluding battle between our "hero" and his opponent on a heavily wired mountainside.
As the "bad" lizard went flying into a high-voltage transmission station and received a fatal spine-snapping flying tackle among the sparks, Julie reached for the remote. She stopped the tape just as the credits began to roll over the screen. Another button press caused the VCR to whine and the tape inside to rattle slightly as it was rewound to the beginning.
"Feeling better?"
"Yeah," I answered, "maybe a little."
She shifted a slightly in her seat, drawing her legs under her butt and turning towards me. Her knee came into contact with mine. I almost flinched at the touch but did not. She did not move away.
"Is there anything I could do to make it better?"
I looked down to where our legs touched. I could feel an almost electric tingle at the point of contact, as if like the exploding power station in the recently finished movie, sparks were flying unseen into the air. I wanted to reach out and put hand over her denim-covered leg. I could feel the motion in the muscles of my arms as they dangled limp against my body.
"No," I said with a sigh, "I'm just tired."
She reached out and touched my shoulder with just the tips of her fingers. More electricity flowed into my body. I could barely keep myself from shaking.
"It hasn't been an easy year for you has it," she said.
"No, not really. I think I bit off more than I could chew."
Her hand began to stroke my shoulder in a friendly way. I wished that she would stop but said nothing. I knew protesting would be a dead give away about how I felt. I could almost see the resulting shock and awkwardness between us.
After a moment, I continued, "there's just so much stuff I need to do and only so much time to do it all in. Something has to be neglected.
"It usually seems to be me."
I looked up to her face. It was crinkled into a sympathetic smile. Her brown eyes looked sadly into mine. I wanted to reach up and touch her cheek. I was afraid she could see my body twitch with the internal battle between common sense and my desires.
I stood up, breaking contact with her.
"I better get going."
She got up with me.
"Will you be alright?"
"Sure. I've made this far."
We were standing facing each other; we were maybe half a step apart. I looked at her face. She looked in mine and moved her arms from her body, opening up for a hug. I moved into it. Her arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against her. My arms reached over hers and to her back. She tilted her head just slightly, closing her eyes. She leaned forward.
Our lips met. My heart started pounding from fear. I stared wide-eyed at the top of her head, right along the part of her long hair. Her tongue tickled my lips, and they parted enough for it to push through. It explored the inside of my mouth. Her hands began to explore the seat of my jeans, softly caressing the cheeks of my ass. One hand began to travel slowly up my back and along my neck until it reached the back of my head. She pushed my face closer to hers. I did not resist. When she broke the kiss, I took a huge breath to refill my empty lungs.
"You're supposed to breathe through your nose, silly," Julie said with a giggle.
I just stared at her as I caught both my wind and my wits. Her hands continued to fondle my ass and stroke my hair, respectively.
"Ready?" she said after a moment.
I swallowed and nodded. She again pushed my head towards hers. Our lips made contact for the second time. Mine opened to allow her tongue to reenter. It thrust in and met my tongue. It slid underneath. The bottom of mine felt the tip of hers touch it gently.
I began to respond. My slack arms tensed and yanked her tighter against me. My tongue fought a gentle duel with hers as I released a sigh into her mouth. We held the kiss much longer than the first, but she still pulled away much sooner than I would have hoped.
"Let's go to my room," she said as we parted bodies.
The hand on my ass moved away. With it, she reached around behind herself and took my hand. She lead me into her room and shut the door with her free hand. She guided me into the center of the room.
"You're shaking."
I nodded my head; it was true. She giggled and placed her hands on my shoulders. I looked into her face and saw her staring into mine with a smile.
"Why," she asked.
"I've never really done...," I started but stopped. After a heartbeat, I tried again, "I mean, I haven't had much..."
She interrupted me, "haven't you ever...?"
"Just once, when I was an undergrad," I said with a blush that felt warm on my cheeks. "She was drunk and had a fight with her girlfriend at a party. She fingered me, but that was it. I think guilt kept her from doing more."
She leaned her head towards my face. Our lips met and joined together in a kiss. Her tongue entered my mouth, again. I let it move around my mouth. I felt its gentle pressure run along the tops of my teeth. Her tongue left my mouth. She pulled herself away from me, but I pushed my body back towards her, fighting to keep our lips in contact. She moved a hand between us and pushed me away.
"Kenny. Kiss back."
"Yes, Julie." I turned my eyes down. "I'll try."
We kissed again; this time, I let myself grow bolder. My tongue entered her mouth. I tried to copy what she had done inside my mouth. The tip of my tongue lightly caressed the smooth surface of her teeth and the salvia slick skin of her palate.
Her hands moved from my shoulders. They slid down each of my arms. Her palms held me through the light flannel sleeves of my shirt. As I explored the inside of her mouth, she reached my sweaty hands, which now dangled limp at my side. Our palms met, and her fingers entwined themselves with mine.
With our hands clasped between us and our lips locked in a deep kiss, we stood in the middle of her bedroom floor. My heart pounded so hard, I could almost feel my ribcage expand with my pulse. I was lightheaded, and I felt the classic case of butterflies fluttering in my tummy.
Julie lifted my left arm with her right hand. I let her carry it up and towards her chest. She shifted her hand around mine, so my palm was exposed. She brought my open hand to her chest and used it to cup one of her breasts. I felt the swell of a hard nipple through the fabric of her loose tee-shirt.
I just held my hand there on her breast, with her hand over mine and with my tongue in her mouth. My mind melted into the moment; I existed only then without either future or past. I lost track of my heartbeat. I lost track of my butterflies. I lost track of all my doubts.
From nowhere a button came loose on my shirt. Then, another came loose. In the fog, I realized that my left arm again hung free to my side. I felt Julie fumble with a third button, then a fourth. My shirt opened to the tops of my jeans. Julie pushed her hand into the opening. It slid across the surface of my belly. Her palm made a circular motion rubbing my skin, before moving upward towards my bra. Her fingers forced themselves under the hard plastic of the underwire. The tip of her middle finger grazed the underside of my breast.
She moved her hand to the front catch of my bra. She gave a slight twist with her fingers and lifted up. The cup opposite of her grasp came loose and draped loosely over my bust. Julie released the other cup so it too was lying loose. She moved both hands to my breasts, bringing them beneath the cups.
She lowered her face to them, using a hand to lift one of my dangling teats even closer to her mouth. The nipple entered and her tongue copied what it had done inside my mouth. I released her tit and held her head as she suckled me like a baby. My baby.
I turned, holding her still against me and guided her to her bed. I pushed her away and forced her to sit down. I lowered down to my knees and took hold of the fastening of her jeans. She cooperated by arching her body up. They slid down her legs. I reached up to the very top of her thighs. I dragged my fingertips along the smooth surface of her skin to the tops of her ankle socks. I dragged them back to the top of her thighs. I skidded along the edge of her panties to her hips. I pulled them down. After pulling them over her feet, dropped them atop her jeans on the floor.
I shrugged my shirt to the ground with my bra. I looked up at my Julie, wearing just her tee-shirt, her brown eyes watching me. I crawled closer to her. I moved my face close to her pussy. With one hand, I pushed away some of her thick pubic hair. With the other, I parted the lips of her pussy. Her clit just poked from its hood.
With so many others , I merely dreamed of this moment. I looked up and saw the face of my sweet Julie, brown eyes glowing with desire. She grabbed hold of my head, her fingers tangled in my hair, and pulled it towards her.
"Do it, Kenny."
My day had come.
© 2002 Kenny N Gamera