index


Message-ID: <55730asstr$1177751401@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 28 Apr 2007 02:16:16 +0000 (UTC)
User-Agent: G2/1.0
Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
Injection-Info: u30g2000hsc.googlegroups.com; posting-host=203.177.238.200;
   posting-account=qBK25Q0AAACTpvYY3RGCixMIsuvRRKwm
Subject: {ASSM} Scenes from a Life by Rachael Ross (F/f, Lesbian, Teen, First, Angst)
Lines: 890
Date: Sat, 28 Apr 2007 05:10:01 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Scenes from a Life

Copyright 2007 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for adults
only.
Story Codes: F/f, Teen, First, Lesbian, Rom

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
have mentioned one, it is merely a device, a clever method to bring up
a new subject. An old subject, by the time I was eighteen.

"Mmmm, no boyfriend yet." I shrug and smile, pretending that I'm
lying. There must be a boy, after all, because I am 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 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 it, 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 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 though that was the funniest thing in the world.
Everyone smiles, because they know that story too well.

What they don't know is that it's true. I've always known I was gay,
before I even knew there was a word for it. Before I knew the real
differences between boys and girls. I live a double life, keeping the
secret safe. I go out, sneaking into lesbian bars, underage and
frightened, meeting people. Meeting...women. Looking for a girlfriend.

=-=-=

Scene 2: In the basement with Rachael. September 1994

My sister and I had our first menstruation barely a month apart. My
sister's was the worse, coming unexpected and without experience. It
was mildly frightening 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, and it was more interesting than
frightening. But I didn't like it. I shouldn't have been having a
period. I shouldn't have been a girl at all, I thought. That was the
worst, the way my body betrayed me like that, proving with painful
finality that I was in fact a girl.

I was in the basement, crying, hitting my stomach with tiny balled
fists. I hated my body, I hated myself. I didn't understand why I was
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 was sitting next to me, not touching me, just
watching. "Lisa?" Her voice was soft and frightened. We were alone,
our father gone to work.

"Leave me alone." I told her, staring down feeling hot and headachy,
with little cramps. And 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 was 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 was staying over with a friend, but
she wasn't. She was at 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 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 is 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 15 years old, nearly 16 in a few months and I'm
so desperate.

I go to school and see girls that I know. I am 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 have 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 is how I am 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. 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 1" 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 is a small place, but the music is loud. And I am so
scared.

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, mostly women, but some men too, are playing pool, or
sitting at the bar, or 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. 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 wiped at my eyes. "I got carded."

"Duh!" Rachael laughed. "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 has 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 my 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 was out, two months
before our 16th 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 in to 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. 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. I follow her until
she meets her friends, or family, or leaves. 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 bikes, 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
is 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 circled around a little on her blades. "Pretty
boring, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You got any blades?"

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

"Want to try mine?" She smiled and that was how I met Jenny.

I had my own roller blades the next day and we spent the summer
hanging out. Jenny was 16 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. Everyone's got one, Jenny would
laugh, mine was just more obvious. It bothered me, sometimes, but I
largely ignored it. Blaming Rachael, for the most part. 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 that it hurt, 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 was on 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 soft brown
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 dark of
her bedroom. The lights were off, her small radio was playing softly.
We were facing each other, under the covers, and talking. She was
telling me what school was going to be like, what I could expect, and
she was making 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 okay." 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 told her, my eyes closed, my arms hugging my breasts
tightly.

"Me neither." She told me. "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 all that did was make me love her more. And she
knew that I think, or at least suspected, but she 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. It was summer again and I'd spent
most of it with Jenny, as much as I could, but she had her own
boyfriend and that cut way down on our time together.

It also made me a little jealous, and I felt guilty about that. She
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 was saying to me, a girl my age,
or maybe just a little older than me.

"What?" I looked at her, the place was full of people, everyone
dancing and it was chaos. I was a little drunk, filling my plastic cup
from whoever happened to be passing by with a bottle.

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

"Hey...You want some?" Another girl was there, maybe twenty, walking
around in a wet t-shirt with a 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 was laughing, 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 lips, pouring
it wetly between my lips, spilling some down my chin. She poured 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 even
thinking that this was my first real kiss with another girl. And I
didn't even know her name.

I was wearing suede pants, 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 and she was taking me by the hand, down the
street. It was a long walk and that was good. 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 what her name was.

"I'm Heather." She was smiling at me, a soft warm smile too. She
seemed different now. At the rave she'd seemed wild almost, stronger
and larger or something. Now she was just a little taller than me,
with dirty blonde hair, wet and clinging 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." She was still
holding my hand and I was beginning to understand that what I'd been
looking for had finally found me.

"Yeah." I swallowed nervously, feeling excited and just a little bit
afraid. "That's cool."

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

"Me too." I nodded, we were driving out of West Seattle, towards I-5
and she promised it wouldn't be too far. She lived in Renton, in a
condo she shared with a friend of hers.

"She's cool though, she won't care." Heather was relaxed, smiling and
talking. "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 and I had to think about that for a
second, just because I hadn't expected it.

"I guess not." She laughed when I didn't answer right away. "That's
alright, I won't tell." She was 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 said, 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 nodded, really wanting it to be nice.

"In here...Shhh..." Heather was smiling, 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 it off. It was a small room, but pleasant. 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 grin.

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

I had 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 the 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, on my lips which still tasted 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 17 the month before and I was
finally having my first kiss. If my inexperience disappointed Heather,
she didn't show it. She was tender and just kissing her was making me
hot all over. I moved my hands over 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 was peeling my panties down
slowly, and I could feel her breath on my skin.

I was just laying there, watching her and I was so hot inside, my
pussy was 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 as she teased me and then she
pulled away, giggling at my little protests.

Heather just wanted to get undressed too. She was kneeling between my
legs, her pretty heart shaped 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 nice and round and
her nipples were long and hard and dark. She pushed her bottoms down
as well, showing me her soft 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 was holding
me with her mouth at my raised cunt, while I lay on my upper back and
shoulders, looking up at her. She was grinning and her mouth was soft,
making 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, her breasts against the small of
my back, moving 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
was writhing in her arms, my thighs pressing to her 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. It was insane and my body just rolled
inside-out with pleasure.

When it was my turn, Heather let me go, lowering me and sliding up my
body so that her sex was over 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 there was no hesitation. 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 cold smell her excitement, strong and musky, and
at the first touch of my tongue to her hot flesh, I tasted her juices.
She was strong 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 it was still 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 was
squeezing her soft round ass, pulling her to fuck my mouth. I stabbed
inside with my tongue, trying to do for her the things she'd done for
me and I think she liked it. 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, it was clumsy and made us giggle 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 was in sort of a 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, and I'd
kiss Heather's sleeping face, her slightly open mouth, just a little.
Perhaps she was doing the same with me.

Eventually though I did sleep and I woke up to the sun coming through
the windows, and Heather was there, apart from me now, but her legs
still over and under mine. I was still tired. 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, but I was horrified by the look of it. It was
really bad, stained and smelling of alcohol and sweat and smoke. I was
sure my body wasn't much better and I really had to use the bathroom,
so I skipped putting on clothes altogether, hoping the condo was as
empty as it sounded.

The bathroom was easy to find at least, right next to Heather's
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, and it opened and some girl was standing there
in a big t-shirt, looking surprised, as she should have I guess.

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

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 with 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 was there too, but that was all. Then I snuck out, back into
Heather's room, closing the door behind me and crawling back into her
bed. I curled up with her, gently, not wanting to wake her, and just
lay 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 Heather and wishing she was Jen. I felt guilty both
because I knew Jen wouldn't ever be like Heather, but also because
Heather was there, and she was my first and I guess I felt like I owed
her more loyalty than wishing she were 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 was wary as well, you know?

Basically, I was 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 knew that the guy was 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 12 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 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 over to a little table, knocking on 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 was surprised at that, thinking it had to be early for some
reason.

"I have to go to work." She was getting up, moving 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 and she was sweet and friendly. We talked very little though
and I felt a bit uncomfortable at times, but mostly it was okay. 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 faded blue one with
the word "Zesty!" across the chest.

"Do you need a ride? Where do you live?" Heather was asking 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." I told her.

"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. She 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 was 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 some time
or...something?"

"Yeah, I would..." She smiled at me and she looked beautiful, I
thought, now that she was made-up, her blonde hair clean and brushed,
wearing nice clothes.

"Okay." I smiled and I 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 was saying, telling me basically 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, its okay."

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

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

"Yeah, okay." I just smiled, nodding my head and I think 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 looked at me.

"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. Our dad had left us
alone for a little while. He needed a break. I started getting up.

"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, just a little one. "We ain't
ever going to 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 my
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
become friends quickly. 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 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. She
plays soccer and she's good at it, and volleyball too. She's very good
at that, which is why she was at 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. It made me smile and I'd
kissed her taut belly over and over, feeling the hardness there.

I'm the femme and she likes me that way. Soft and not fat by any
means, just comfortably soft with my firm round butt and upturned
breasts. Her hair is shoulder length, pulled back into a short
ponytail usually; she likes mine long and loose, like a black mane
across my brown shoulders and caramel back. We're opposites 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, being apart once in awhile is okay. We trust each other.

Rachael was at WWU by then, up in Bellingham with her boyfriend, a guy
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 just 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. She 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 that she was gay, that I was her girlfriend.
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 was no
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 was more
scared than she'd 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 was 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 too, she just made it
harder. Me telling my dad that I was 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 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 smiled, 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 he 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 it was good
enough for the moment. It was a nice casual dinner and we sat there
afterwards and that was 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 smiled and rolled my eyes and Julie laughed.

"Uh no, I haven't heard that one." She smiled at me and her eyes were
so beautiful, soft 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 my
sister Susan asked her...."

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

back to 2007

-- 
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: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+