My introduction to the love of another woman came on a
warm spring evening very recently. I find myself
confused about what it means, afraid of the emotions
the experience has unleashed. And yet I cannot rid
myself of the glow of that one breathtaking adventure.
Until it happened I had always regarded myself as very
straight. Sure, there were opportunities in college,
where I knew a few lesbians. But I had always been put
off by them, by their butch mannerisms. Perhaps in my
revulsion I was just hiding some inner truth about
myself? I never thought so until now.
As for men, well, I liked them and they sure seemed to
feel the same toward me. I never regarded myself as a
classic beauty, but I do have a fine figure. The
numbers tell part of the story, if I do say so: 5'6"
tall, maybe 120 lbs. I'm in good shape, too, thanks to
jogging and squash. Men also seem taken with my large
light brown eyes and my knockout smile.
And, like I said, I've always taken to men -- or, at
least, the male physique. There's something wonderful
about a tight pair of buns and, lets face it, a stiff
C*** can satisfy some very animal urges. That delicious
sense of fullness as it stretches me that pressure of a
man's pelvic bone against my clit, have always left me
deeply satisfied.
In fact, I was so fond of the male version of the
species that I had decided last winter to marry my
steady just after I finish business school this year. I
happily wore the diamond engagement ring he had given
me at the time.
On the other hand, I guess there are aspects of men I
can do without. I've been to my share of encounter
sessions with other women and we all agree that, where
most men are concerned, a nice penis is about all they
have to offer. Otherwise they're clods. Even during
sex, when it should be special, they are always in a
rush to get off. My girlfriends and I used to joke that
"romance" and "foreplay" must seem like a foreign
language to most of them. My fiancé was better than
most; still, I wondered sometimes if he was worth the
trouble.
These secret doubts would have remained buried inside
me were it not for the events I am about to describe.
It all began during a conversation with a woman I'll
call Jackie, who is also in my business school class.
She seemed upset and distracted. Because we're close
friends, she decided to confide in me -- she had just
had her first lesbian affair with a woman in our class
who was known to be gay. Jackie was consumed by her
passion for this woman and felt her world suddenly
coming apart.
I listened sympathetically. Inside I was both
fascinated and repelled. Jackie seemed so feminine,
with her dark brown hair framing her face in gentle
curls, her pretty dark eyes, her delicate features. She
resembles me, I thought. And then suddenly I began to
feel very strange indeed...
For if Jackie could harbor such desires, what about me?
I began trembling and fought to steady myself. When she
asked me whether I had ever had any interest in another
woman, I said no rather too insistently. Reassuring her
that we would still be the best of friends, I excused
myself as soon as I thought polite.
I tried hard to put Jackie's confession and my own
curious response out of my mind. I might have
succeeded, too, had she not called a couple of days
later, on a Saturday afternoon. I was home cleaning my
apartment, which I share with another female classmate.
Sheepishly she asked if I would do her a large favor.
She had learned of a lesbian bar here in Boston, but
she was too shy to go alone. She wondered whether I
might accompany her, on a strictly platonic basis,
until she had a chance to decide that she really
belonged there. Besides, she said, the place was
reputed to have great dance music, and I do love to
dance, with anyone at any time. Before I had a chance
to think I found myself accepting.
Well, not very much cleaning got done the rest of the
day. I was unnerved and anxious. Fortunately, my
apartment-mate Kirsten was away for the weekend
interviewing for a job or I might have blurted out the
whole story to her. At least a dozen times I started to
phone Jackie to back out, but I couldn't figure out how
to do it without sounding prudish. That's what I told
myself, anyway.
