My Name Is Chantal

Hi, my name is Chantal. I was a Lesbian.

I really don't like that word, "Lesbian," because my love for Jean came so naturally to me that I don't feel it needs a label. I shan't go into the details of my puberty and my wonderings and how I grew up because that's not what this story is about, except to say that nothing much of interest happened to me -- no interest from boys or from girls -- until I met Jean when I was eighteen. She was so plain, so honest, so attractive to me with her bony nose and ready smile that I just fell in love with her very quickly. It was as though she was the one leather glove that fit my hand.

Jean and I became roommates -- again, that's not what this story is about, but still - we shared a queen-sized bed in a one room basement apartment out of necessity. My lust for her body came before her lust for mine; she was a little older than me and had to overcome some taboo issues. In the fullness of time, though, we had the best sex together that we thought we could ask for. Jean and I used to cuddle in that bed for hours before we slept and I loved, oh how I loved kissing her. She was all mine and I was all hers and we had our little one-room world where we could do, and we did, whatever we pleased.

We showered together. We dried off together. We ate together. We applied our makeup together and we shared clothing, when we could (I was rather bustier than Jean). We went to the toilet together, giggling helplessly. We walked around the neighborhood together. We shopped together. Together we taught ourselves how to give the other an orgasm -- sometimes a whole lot of them. We held hands while riding the subway. We rubbed oil onto each other's bodies, we masturbated together, we tasted each other's vaginas and we kissed beads of sweat from each other's chests on hot summer nights. Jean and I did everything together because the world, the whole world, was unimportant to us. The flashing city was nothing but a silent backdrop to the reality of our intimacy. Nothing mattered to me but Jean and nothing mattered to Jean but me. We were in total love.

Sometimes when I came out of the shower, before I got dressed and was just towelling off, Jean would suddenly open the bathroom door and take my hand and pull me to the bed. I loved how she would forcefully (sort of) push me back onto the bed with my legs held wide, push her face into me and, well, you know. She loved to flatten her tongue and start at the bottom of my labia, then as slowly as she could lick my lips firmly all the way to the top and then blow her breath onto my pubic hairs. Mm, it seemed like the most intimate thing in the world. She would then lick downwards with the bottom of her tongue slowly, then up again, the same stroke with her mouth so dependably and consistently that I could place my arms behind my head, close my eyes, rock my hips and abandon my naked, vulnerable self to Jean's unstoppable mouth and tongue lust until I feared I was going to harm her with my orgasmic thrusts.

Of course, there was real life. I was a student at a trade school -- the subject is unimportant -- and Jean was working on a Psychology degree. We needed an income and so somehow, by a miracle, Jean found us jobs working together as security guards at a downtown office building. The security company was very kind about allowing us to select shifts that fit with our class schedules. Sometimes we worked overnight, allowing us to study in the silent, empty building. Occasionally we did the same shift but usually it was one or the other of us alone.

It was very easy work. Outside regular office hours in the evenings and weekends, we had to have people sign in and out at a kiosk if they came or went through the lobby to work some extra hours in their offices. We had rounds to do every few hours, walking the floors watching for signs of fire or intruders. We had cell phones to call 911 if an emergency were to develop, which never happened while we were there. We could park in the basement instead of having to walk through snow or rain. We had plenty of time to study, to think about things and to chat with the office workers who came and went. They all would usually stop and chat for a moment with Jean or me.

By the time this comfortable life had continued for a few months some of the workers had become rather friendly, especially Dan and

he

is who this story is about.

Dan was a nice man. He worked frequently on Saturdays and he tried to be nice to us, stopping to chat for a few moments longer each time, it seemed. I hadn't admired him especially as a specimen of manhood; I had Jean. Dan was just another person who worked in the building and so I was completely surprised the Saturday morning he signed in, looked at me a little more intently than he usually had when we chatted at the kiosk and asked me if I would like to go out for dinner with him some time.

It truly took a moment to register and I looked to the side a little as I thought about this: a man had just asked me for a date! So many things went through my mind and as they did, I began to smile. Jean, of course; would she mind? If so I could always tell Dan I'd changed my mind. Did I like Dan? Sort of, and there was no reason to turn him down. Dating a customer? None of their business. Transportation? That was Dan's problem and besides, I had my own Toyota. Date a man? Why not? Did Dan like me? Well, it seemed to me that he had had to screw up his courage to ask me out and I did not want to hurt his feelings.

I looked Dan in the eyes, smiled and said "Yes. Yes, I would like that." Dan smiled right back at me, a wide smile that made him look cute.

"Great!" he said. "What evening would be convenient for you this week?" I pictured my schedule; Jean was working the Thursday evening shift and my last class ended at four.

"Thursday?"

"Perfect. Where shall I pick you up, say 6:30?"

I told him, we exchanged phone numbers, and he took the elevator up to his office.

I could not concentrate on my textbooks during the day as I thought this over. A man was interested in me! I thought about Dan more as the day went on and I reviewed what little I knew of him. He was about my height, about 25 years old, tidy brown hair, glasses, a little teen acne scarring but overall not bad. Handsome-ish. Slim-ish but not muscular and he walked with poise, shoulders back, good posture that spoke of confidence, yet his eyes seemed vulnerable, as though he had been hurt before and was wary of being hurt again. He had a responsible job upstairs with a shipping agency. Was he sexy? I supposed he could have been; after all, I was a so-called Lesbian and what did I know?

When I got home that evening I blurted out my news to Jean and she was delighted.

"How exciting! Where is he taking you? What will you wear?"

"Aren't you jealous?"

"Oh, go have a date with him! Have fun! I know you'll come home to me" Jean smiled and hugged me and I knew it was all right.

Thursday Dan picked me up in a big old green Oldsmobile. I was wearing a skirt, beige sweater and a string of pearls that Jean had lent me. Dan told me I looked very pretty out of uniform and we drove to a restaurant where Dan had made reservations.

It was a lovely, lovely dinner. We ordered enormous grilled prawns and we talked and we were so comfortable with each other and talked about everything -- everything except my relationship with Jean; Dan didn't ask about that. As we talked I looked at Dan as a man and I considered him. He was thoroughly polite, never said the F word and he spoke with confidence about his career. He listened attentively when I spoke about the career I hoped for. I showed him scars on my hands from my work at the trade school; he held my hands with warmth as he looked at them and did not stop holding them when the conversation drifted, and I suddenly felt my vagina leak moisture. He never looked down, he always held my gaze but if he had he would have seen my nipples had hardened beneath the fabrics of my sweater and my bra. Dan was turning me on, and he wasn't even trying! I was sure my nipples would have cast shadows down the front of my sweater. I found myself wanting to go home and masturbate.

Suddenly Dan looked at his watch and looked at me in astonishment. "It's ten o'clock!" We looked around at the empty dining room and all the kitchen staff were watching us, smiling. Dan paid, we left and he drove me home. He did not try to claim a kiss but I thought it had been such a nice evening and he had been such a gentleman that I wanted to kiss him. I reached over and when I brushed his lips with mine, I stole a little lick. His lips were soft and tasted like prawns.

I told Jean all about the evening -- all except the kiss - and while she was glad I'd had a good time I started to feel a tension -- I thought she was a little more jealous than she was letting on. We soon fell asleep with me on my side, her behind me with her arm clutching me just a little more tightly than would allow her to sleep. I loved Jean but now I also thought Dan was more than a little interesting.

Next morning Jean had to leave earlier than me for class and when I showered alone I closed my eyes, squeezed my right breast with my left hand while I slid my right finger to my clitoris and masturbated, imagining what Dan might look like naked. I had never seen a live penis. Was it large? Tiny? What did a foreskin look like? Did that even matter? When I held an imaginary image of him in the shower next to me I had an orgasm that sank me gasping to my knees.

In the days that followed Jean and I continued to enjoy our loving lives together -- and I looked forward to my work shifts a little more. Dan came to the office building more often, and not just to work. Sometimes when I had a night shift he would come to the main entrance with a treat of some kind for me -- a sandwich, some cheese and crackers -- always something different. Close to Christmas once he brought me roasted chestnuts. Sometimes he would meet me at the end of my shift and take me out for a beer. I came to like cold beer.

One day he came to work and said he had forgotten his key to the office. I smiled, not believing him, but said I would let him in since there was no one else there to let him in. We entered the elevator, he pressed the number and with the same speed as the sliding doors we moved into each others arms. His lips were soft, his tongue was clean and his embrace was sure. I closed my eyes, returned his kiss, held him close -- and I could feel his erection. I held him harder, sucked harder at his lips and tongue -- then the elevator dinged. I stood back, quickly brushed the front of my uniform and led the way as we walked out and other people got on. I let him in, wanting to kiss again, longer and more, but I had to get back downstairs to my work so I simply placed my face next to his, briefly -- and he briefly but surely fondled my bum.

Naturally my feelings were at war with themselves. I found myself attracted to Dan. Jean knew that he was friendly with me but she had no idea that I was imagining all sorts of things with him or that we were stealing kisses at work. (Thank Goodness Dan did not wear cologne or the game would have been over right away!) My love and desire for Jean was just as strong as ever yet, well, I've already explained how things were progressing with Dan. Jean loved and needed me and had done nothing to deserve losing my love in return. This is another reason I dislike labels: does describing myself as Lesbian mean I must deny myself the company of a man as sweet as Dan was? "Bisexual" -- what an ugly, pornographic word and what was developing with Dan was neither ugly nor pornographic. Hm, well maybe a

little

pornographic.

I was also worrying if I was behaving as I should with a boyfriend. Was Dan waiting for me to make a move, or if I should be following his lead? Never having been in a relationship with a man, what should I be expecting? Was he expecting anything from me? So far, he had been patient and everything felt natural and safe and leisurely to me, but was I missing any signs? I thought I was ready to take the next step, to become lovers, but how...?

When Dan left to go home the day of our "elevator ride" he asked me if I would like to come to his apartment for a beer sometime -- whenever was convenient. I felt both a little flutter in my tummy and a cold sensation across my cheeks. How would I manage this around Jean, and how would I manage this around my period? I knew Jean had a late class the coming Tuesday and that would suit the other thing too. I could feel my nipples hardening. Dan smiled. "Tuesday, whenever you like. I'll be ready."

My face warmed as I said, impulsively "I'm ready now!" He smiled and turned away. I covered my face with my hands and looked down.

I rang the buzzer at Dan's apartment with a trembling finger and butterflies in my stomach. I knew what I wanted and what I thought Dan wanted and wasn't sure I would know what to do but if I walked away from this place with my virginity intact, it would not be for want of an effort on my part. I needn't have worried. Dan's voice through the intercom told me he would meet me downstairs.

The building was beautiful and Dan's apartment was cozy and clean. I thought the air smelled like a recent shower. I would go with the flow, sure Dan had things planned, and he invited me to sit down while he poured me a cold beer.

The beer was delicious, exactly what my dry mouth needed. We sat and chatted about each other's day. Time to break the flow. I glanced around at the pictures he had on his walls, selected one at random and said "Oh, what a nice picture!" I rose and walked over to it to feign a closer look. Dan set his glass down, walked up behind me and put his arms around my waist. I turned and we kissed without stopping for any elevator dings. I felt his unmistakeable hardness and I pushed my waist forward in answer. Dan rubbed my back and my bum -- I think he was trying to feel if there was a clasp for my bra in back -- then he took my hand and led me gently to his tidy bedroom. There was a single small reading lamp on, next to the bed.

He held me in his arms and said "Chantal, I love you and I want to make love to you but you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

I kissed his ear as Jean sometimes did to me, a thrilling little moment, and I whispered "Yes."

We undressed each other a little at a time. He unbuttoned my blouse and gasped when I opened and peeled my bra away (the clasp was in front) because I actually do have very pretty breasts: not too big, not too small and with clearly defined areolas and nipples. He caressed them, bent down to kiss my nipples and brush his face across my whole chest, breathing deeply (I had applied the slightest possible touch of scent) and he hooked and pushed my panties down to where they could fall to the floor. I was nude with Dan and I felt no shyness, I only felt wanted. He knelt on one knee before me and gently moved his face into the black, black garden of hair that no man, and no woman but Jean, had ever seen. He held there a moment and breathed in the scent of the moisture I could feel seeping from my vagina before he rose and said "My God, Chantal, you smell so nice everywhere!"

When he slid his pants and underwear to the floor and removed his socks I said to him "Can I Look at you?"

"I wish you would."

I sat on the edge of the bed to look at my man, naked before me at last in the low light of his private place, his home. He stood straight before me, not shy at all. His shoulders were straight and wide, strong arms with prominent veins. He had very little hair on his chest, but with a little cluster of hairs around each tiny nipple. He could have lost five or ten pounds and not missed it but what interested me was a light covering of small hairs that grew into a line down the center of his belly, leading down to the hair of his groin that was brown like the hair of his head, that he apparently trimmed a bit. Finally, at last, his cock. I thought it was perfect. He was circumcised and he was, I guessed, fully erect. About six inches long with a slight curve upward and different shades of flesh and pink and light brown. The tip was a raised area and there was a vertical slit, a little opening, at the very end, with a tiny drop of clear moisture. His scrotum was tight, a firm ball, and hairless -- maybe he shaved it. His legs were shapely, well muscled from much walking. Beautiful. A beautiful naked man. For me.

"Can I feel you?" I asked.

"I wish you would." He stepped close.

His cock felt so warm in my hand. The skin slid back and forth. The mysterious little drop had gotten a bit bigger and I rubbed it -- slippery. I tasted it on my fingertip, a sweet salty flavor and it was at that moment that I finally, completely fell head over heels in love with Dan. I pressed my face against him and rubbed my face against his cock, rubbed it with my cheeks, I looked at its profile, I stroked it with my hands, I licked his pubic hair and I fondled his tight balls. I held his thighs in my arms as I caressed him with my face and I could have sobbed with relief that I had a good man who loved me and I would love him right back.

I looked up at him. "Dan, can I just... taste it? Just taste it?" I knew what he would say.

"I wish you would" and we both chuckled a bit. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth wide.

I knew what a blow job was and that's not what I wanted to do; I just wanted to enjoy him. I wanted the lips that had never kissed or tasted anyone but Jean to taste the secret, private flesh of this man. I opened my mouth, closed my eyes and moved my head forward. It felt for a moment like I was putting an egg into my mouth, then that image fled as I raised my tongue to his hard penis.

His cock was salty. The head of his cock was soft and spongy -- so nice between my lips. It felt so warm and so alive as I held it in my mouth and licked every part my tongue could reach -- it was like a separate little animal. It was delicious and it was a delicious experience. More taste at the very tip, more of the clear fluid, so sweet and intimate. It seemed to want to dance a little bit inside my mouth, it pulsed, alive. I rose to kiss Dan again, pressing his own salty flavor between his lips.

He asked me to lie down. I obeyed, clumsily, and lay there resting on my elbows waiting for him. He took a moment to enjoy the sight I offered and I parted my legs in invitation. He lay down beside me and we kissed without reservation but there was something I had to ask him.

"Dan, is there anything you want me to do?"

"Yes, I want you to enjoy this."

He kissed my neck gently and sucked my ear lobes. His hand was between my legs, exploring my wetness, spreading it around. He pushed his finger inside me (my hymen was long gone after hours of dildo play with Jean) then looked me in the eye while he placed the same finger in his mouth, tasting me. He moved his body between my knees and kissed his way down... there. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about Jean. It wasn't easy until I held an image of Dan's cock steadily in my mind's eye, pushing Jean aside with the thought "Jean, you just don't belong here." He lay flat on the bed and wrapped his arms around my thighs, telling me wordlessly that he wasn't going anywhere. His lips pulled on my pubic bush. I could hear him breathing in deeply, enjoying the scent of my moistened vagina. His hands reached up and caressed my breasts, my tummy and then his fingers spread apart the foliage of my pubic bush, there was a pause and I felt it.

His tongue just barely touched, just the lightest touch, on my clitoris.

"Oh, Dan, you're so gentle!"

His tongue retreated then lightly touched it again. The buildup had been so long, his presence and kisses and patient touches so sensuous that I started to feel that tingling, the inside tingling that matches the outer feeling, and he kept going lightly up and down and up and down, sometimes dipping his tongue to gather my vagina's moisture, gently not strong like Jean, then he licked a little deeper and a little deeper and his arms were strong around my thighs and I knew he was there for me and I came. There was a loving man between my legs, so much trust and lust and I sobbed, my hips thrust into his face, he stayed there licking so slowly and softly and when my orgasm was over he stayed there with his tongue in me, stopping all stimulation but his tongue was still in me and I loved him so much and I was breathing so deeply and my thighs were gripping his head so tight...