Dana & the Angel of Lost Girls

Part 1 - Looking for Love

Dana pulled out of the parking lot and out into traffic. Just a short jaunt down Third Street and then on to the interstate. She had been anxiously waiting all week for after work Friday, the day when she would set off on her great adventure. It was quite an incredible undertaking. If any of her friends knew what she was up to they would never have believed it; she could hardly believe she was going through with this herself. But if nothing else life had made her very brave and considering her circumstances; her plan was not all that incredible but still very bold. Dana was going to the big city for the weekend, to find and make love to another woman.

Her mind was set on the notion. She had planned it for months and even made a reconnaissance trip to iron out the details. She probably could have found a suitable partner from among the eclectic collection of coeds on the college campus but Laramie, Wyoming was a small city and it was hard to keep such misadventures quiet. No, Dana was driving to Denver. It was the biggest city in the region. Whatever she wanted - they had it in Denver. Apart from finding a discrete partner she also wanted the option to be as discriminating as possible. Her mother had always told her that if she was going to try something for the first time, give it a fair chance and try the very best. She thought that, surely, from the larger sample of lesbians in a big city she would have the best prospect of finding a highly skilled and appealing companion. Her plan was perfect. She would have a little fling and then discretely sneak back home. No one would ever know.

She accelerated to speed, adjusted her mirror, and checked her watch. She should be arriving around 7:30. Plenty of time to check in, change her clothes and hit the night. Dana thought about her evening's plans. She did not know exactly what or who she would encounter but she knew how. She knew that if she positioned herself well her natural graces were always enough to propel circumstances in her favor.

She was by no means a drop-dead beauty but she was cute, in fact, darned cute if she had to admit it. She wore her short, curly red hair in a sassy fluff around her head. Her face was round with full cheeks, a sweet little turned-up nose, and a broad expressive mouth with Cupid's Bow lips. Her big, playful eyes were a vivid blue and her brows slanted upwards toward her nose giving her face an overall warm, congenial appearance, especially when she smiled. She did not have a figure that provoked lustful stares. Her breasts were small and her hips narrow but she had legs like a dancer and she could use them to attract all kinds of attention when she wanted to. She was pretty enough to stand out from the crowd and she considered herself well equipped for this quest. She was confident she would succeed in her mission and she looked forward to the insight she would gain from this trip.

Someone might ask, 'Why would an attractive, heterosexual, 23 year-old, small town raised, young professional woman be setting off on such an uncharacteristically bold adventure?' If she had such an urge to experiment with her sexuality, why not do it in the carefree days of college when such behavior might be more easily excused? Why at this stage of her life after her career had started and her social potential being realized? To Dana, the situation was not so difficult to understand. From her perspective it had always been almost inevitable. She was a hermaphrodite.

Dana was most definitely a woman. She had ovaries, a uterus, and a vagina; exhaustive tests as a girl had verified her sexual identity. Her external genitalia were somewhat less distinct. Firstly, her labia were much larger, in fact, enormous by comparison to most women. They were the same shape and in the same position as most women but Dana's were long flaps of pinkish brown skin that could easily stretch beyond her panty line if she did not carefully tuck them away. When she became sexually aroused they puffed up and spread apart invitingly like the petals of a delicate flower and sweated on the inside the same musky secretions as her vagina. The flaps met at the top of her sexual opening where they formed the hood above her clitoris and it was here that her genitalia became most ambiguous.

Dana called her clitoris a penis because that was what it looked like. It protruded from her and dangled in front of her sex, it had a soft, stretchy skin of an olive complexion, it had a very sensitive glans at the end, and it even had a foreskin around the tip. It had no urethra, hers was below just like all other women, but it responded to sexual stimulation just like a penis. When Dana became aroused her penis would lengthen, swell, harden and raise itself to point toward her naval in a graceful arch; heralding her arousal and prominently begging for attention. It was her biggest and most closely guarded secret; a secret that had controlled and shaped every aspect of her life. And now it had become the central guiding focus of her strange weekend quest. To Dana it was a trip she had been planning since she was a girl. After all, one could not have such an organ and not wonder about its potential uses.

Dana was glad for the long drive it gave her time to think, about her plans, about her past, about herself.

It had been a long love/hate relationship between Dana and her genitals. She hated them because they drove away her father. Unable to cope with her indistinct gender, he ran away shortly after she was born never to be heard from again.

She hated them for the sheltered life she had been restricted to. Her mother was very protective and constantly steeled Dana against any situation that might compromise her dainty secret or weaken her vigilance. There were so many maturing rituals a young girl should partake in that Dana could not because of her secret. All the slumber parties, sports, and of course, teenage lust she had to keep shy of. There were a few times necking with some boy she was infatuated with when her arousal almost let itself show. These were warnings to her about the fragile nature of her secret and how destructive to her life it might be if her supplemental sexuality was ever discovered.

At the same time she loved her little something extra. It was not only a part of her; it was the epicenter of the most intense delight she had ever known. Her orgasms were tremendous and she attributed them to her very sensitive penis. Many were the nights, sheltered in darkness, quietly in her room that her young fingers crept tenderly over her flesh to find that tempting treasure. Pulling her panties down she would tease her penis into erection with one hand while with the other dragging up musky wetness from her flowering vagina and spreading it around as a lubricant. Fully aroused and suitably aided she worked a two-pronged attack; on her penis and on her vagina. With one dainty finger swirling within the sensitive mouth of her pussy, she pulled and rubbed her erect clitoris that rose in an arc toward her navel. She took her time, manipulating herself, prolonging the pleasure, building it up to that huge release and the soothing peace that followed.

There were complications, though. Her vaginal orgasms were like any other woman's but when her clitoral orgasms struck Dana she would gush forth from her urethra, just below her penis. It of course wasn't sperm, but it wasn't urine either. It was a thick slippery substance that would, depending on her sexual tension, dribble out quickly and run down her slit or sometimes squirt out in rapid jets. When she masturbated, she always kept a wash cloth with her, to catch the mess.

Dana treasured her climaxes, but she treated herself to them very sparingly. What she had always desired the most was someone to share her physical joy with, and masturbation was a distraction she did not want to become dependant on. Sadly, Dana had not been very successful in finding that someone.

Her first foray into love was with a boy she had known since kindergarten. They had always been close friends and started dating when they were 16. They had many necking and guarded light petting sessions but Dana never let it go too far until one night three months before their graduation. Dana broke down and let him venture his wandering hands past the hem of her skirt. She tried urgently to forewarn him of what he would find; she was so sure she could trust him to appreciate her special circumstance and to not freak out over what he found.

She was wrong. He completely came unglued, called her a fag as if she was some boy playing an elaborate hoax on him. He spat on her and pushed her out of his car to walk home alone. If that was not bad enough, by the following Monday the story was all over town.

Her entire life was abruptly torn up by the roots and destroyed. Her friends abandoned her, people stared, her mother cried almost constantly. Unable to function in the tiny town, she had to test out of high school, leave her mother and her home to start college early in far away Laramie. She never went back and she could only visit her mother if they met outside town. It was a cold cruel lesson for her, one that left her feeling shattered, robbed, and very alone.

In college she kept to herself with her nose in her books. It was hard to constantly exclude herself from all the festivities and distractions but she knew too well the consequences of letting down her guard. In her junior year she met a young man, a senior, with a promising future that she had a strong yearning for and he loved her too. He was a good man, very patient, intelligent and understanding. This time she carefully, gradually exposed him to her condition months before the relationship got physical. He was unafraid and completely discrete. When the time was right she offered him her virginity. She was so happy that he addressed her sex bravely. The encounter was a little tense, slightly hesitant. Not knowing for sure how to address it, he would not touch her proudly erect organ protruding prominently in front of his own but the rest of his foreplay was thorough and effective. He consummated their love, entered her, broke her hymen and they engaged in complete and mutually satisfying intercourse.

With her erection nestled in the tangle of his pubic hair and her labia spread wide around his puffed scrotum, they wrapped their arms around each other in a tight lover's embrace, whispering passionate entreaties into each others ears. After overcoming the brief pain of defloration, she regaled in his arms; it was without exception not only the most pleasurable experience of her life but also the ultimate completion of her being. He was bringing her in from the cold and welcoming her into the human race. All the cruel years of self repression were washing away with his every stroke. Working with him her body became a treasure of joy for her underneath his; giving her pleasure she could never have given herself. They clung together and moved in a smooth, undulating syncopation, climbing their lust like a team. As he churned his penis deep within her newly awoken vagina, Dana bucked and ground against his every thrust, gyrating her own penis against his coarse, clinging curls. She matched him in his mounting joy, riding his passion with him as a devoted partner; she waited to accept his culminating ejaculation as a woman.

She felt him tense and groan, then his emission, a pulsing jet deep within her. The sensation and the realization that came with it pushed her over the edge. As he was still enjoying his climax she ground against him tightly and triggered her own release. She came, and as usual when she came, she gushed forth her own ejaculation. In a series of quick, gentle spurts her thick, viscose fluid erupted from her urethra and into his pressing pubes, slowly dribbling down over his testicles. Simultaneous bliss, the moment was truly theirs, or so she would have thought.

Her release had an immediate, chilling effect on him. He tried hard not to let it show or to hurt her feelings but she knew he was uncomfortable with the net effect of their bonding. Her erection still stood defiantly, unrepentant in front of her sex and a gooey glob of her discharge soaked the patch of hair above his flagging erection. Of course he was very understanding and gracious to a fault, and his love for her was clear and beyond reproach. But she knew he had a little difficulty in facing the reality of her condition. Sometimes the subtle signs of rejection are the most hurtful to a partner's ego. Regardless, they set it aside, and curled up in each other's arms to sleep like lovers.

She was so happy to be made complete and have consummated their love, but from that point on their relationship decayed. He still loved her but the distinctly masculine traits of her sexuality clearly disturbed him. They overcame some of his discomfort by changing their coital position -- they had sex "doggie style". By entering her from behind he was spared confrontation with her strangely configured genitalia but it left out a great deal of the intimacy that Dana craved so much. She could, of course, stimulate herself, and she did, to share pleasure and release with him. She stroked and massaged her erection with a free hand as he thrust against her, he never deterred her. They had frolicking, rancorous sex and he enjoyed himself to his completion. Dana achieved hers too, spilling herself against his testicles and driving shaft, without his noticing. As his cum spilled from her and mixed with hers, the illusion was complete. He was still slightly chilled by her condition. He never touched her down there and if he ever came into contact with her ejaculate, he recoiled in revulsion.

They kept their relationship together all the way to his graduation. In spite of all his entreaties, appeals and promises of devotion, Dana still sensed reluctance in him and loved him enough to let him go. She released him to a life he would not have to constantly defend, to some other lover with whom he could be completely free. It hurt them both but she felt it was the honest thing to do. He left town and disappeared from her life.

Her mourning was dark and cynical. She began to associate with a gloomy crowd of social dissenters and cultural critics. Among them she met and moved in with an attractive, rakish English Literature Major who sold used cars to pay his bills. He drank heavily and smelled of stale cigarettes but he had no apprehension about her sex. He ignored her clitoris almost completely. As far as her ejaculation was concerned, he was downright squeamish but undeterred. He was by no means a good or even satisfying lover but she never had to question where she stood with him. As depressed as she was, it would not have mattered anyway.

Their love making was arduous and forced, usually while intoxicated. They were somewhat clumsy though very physical lovers, and they went through all the motions of intense sex yet something was missing. She had to work too hard to achieve her climax and when it came it was physically enjoyable but did not even begin to soothe her emotional needs. It was like being half numb or having sex by remote control.

She usually got off after he had passed out, she would straddle him and ride on top of him with his semi-erection stuffed up inside her. Through the bleary daze of alcohol she slid and ground against him, making believe the tumescent flesh squeezed in her yearning pussy was the raging cock of an inspired lover. With a free hand she pulled, squeezed and jerked-off her erection for stimulation no one else would give her. When she had reached her peak and spat out her cum over his cock and balls it was a lonely victory, not the joy she longed to share.

Their affair was not love; it was just going through the motions. As time progressed it became a mockery of love. He got into cocaine and soon every spare dime he could get his hands on went up his nose. In the end, he tried to get her to sell herself to a truck driver because they needed the money. At that point their relationship was no longer just an enigma of contrived emotions, it was a hazard. She sneaked away in the middle of the night and never looked back.

The yawning light of her new found freedom and sobriety healed her many wounds. She got stronger, more self reliant, and she focused herself strictly on the non-sexual aspects of her life. She graduated, established a career and settled into a safe, comfortable routine.

Until now. A question that she had carried since adolescence burned inside her and was nagging for an answer. Thus - her adventure.

Dana tried to imagine all the possible scenarios so she would be ready. As she drove, she began to wonder about the type of woman she would meet. Would she be just an average lady or one of those masculine types? What kind of role should she play - the submissive or the aggressor? How would she expose her secret to them, up front or as a surprise? There were so many uncertainties, she did not like the idea but she would have to play a lot of this by ear and make the appropriate moves based on how things evolved.

She made good time, pulling in to the motel parking lot a half hour sooner than she had planned. She checked into her room and freshened up with a quick shower. Fully expecting a lucky encounter, she powdered and perfumed herself for a lover's enchantment before slipping into her finest, shear black pantyhose, a blue short-sleeve silk blouse to bring out her eyes, and a short, pleated, blue skirt. Her legs were her best asset and she chose a pair of black, high-heeled, 'f#ck-me' shoes to accentuate them. Looking at herself in the mirror she surmised, 'If I wanted to bring home a man tonight, this would definitely do it.' She just hoped girls liked the same bait.

Out to her car and on to the freeway. She knew where she was going. Her recon trip and some pointed inquiries had helped her find some gay bars on South Broadway, where all the art galleries were.

The first place on her list was called The Footloose. Dana parked around the corner, primped herself one more time in the rear view mirror and bound out of her car in a quick dash for the door. What greeted her inside were mostly the shocked stares of scattered, well-groomed, slender men. 'Could I be in the wrong place?' she wondered. There were two women sitting at the bar. One was a sleek woman in her mid-forties in a black t-shirt and blue jeans. Sitting next to her was a pretty, young blonde in a white t-shirt. Their interlocked arms made it clear to all they were a couple. Dana took a seat at the bar near the pair hoping to garnish their cloistered feminine appeal should any other women show up. She asked the bartender for a cabernet and casually familiarized herself with her surroundings.

It was a tidy, stylish place with a neat bar, clean little wooden tables and a dance floor. She sipped her wine and waited for some one, any one, to show her a little benevolence. It was an act in futility. The men did not seem to care if women existed at all. The two women would intermittently throw themselves into a passionate kiss and then look about the room, scanning for a reaction. They were as indifferent to Dana as the men. She waited twenty minutes and in that time the two women left, ten more men arrived and Dana just got lonely.

She hopped off her stool and dashed back to her car. The errant foray had emboldened her. It was not as hard as she had thought. Hopefully the next place on her list would be more suitable. It was a place further up Broadway called The Compound. Dana liked it because it had a discrete parking lot in the back. She took a deep breath after berthing her car and sauntered to the entrance. Standing inside the doorway, she stopped and gathered her bearings. She saw about her women's faces, seated at tables, playing pool, and standing in a row leaning against the bar. They all marked her entrance, looking her over with more than casual curiosity.