I remember my first time with a woman. I don't know how many of you do but it's crystal clear in my mind. I was a late bloomer to say the least. Well at least when it came to being a lesbian and coming to terms with my sexuality. I didn't realize what I'd been feeling towards women was attraction until I was nearly twenty-two years old. After I came to the understanding, it took me another two years to accept it.
Shortly after my twenty-fourth birthday I decided I was ready to be me. I was not the type to come out with my rainbow flag waving proudly three feet ahead of me, announcing my gayness with my name as though they were merged and being a lesbian was all that I am. I was just a bit too reserved for that.
Instead, I made subtle changes that allowed me to feel in control all the way through. I told my family first; it seemed the right thing to do. The most important people in my life should definitely hear the words straight out with no sugar coating. I obsessed about it. I lost ten pounds in a month worrying about it. Finally I forced myself to bite the bullet. To my surprise and tremendous relief, everyone took it well and I felt blessed to not be ostracized.
The less dramatic changes came easier as time went on. I didn't stop myself from looking at women when in the company of friends or co-workers. I no longer pretended to have a boyfriend, stopped feigning an interest in going on blind dates or being hooked up with the neighbor's nephew. When approached by men I simply replied 'I'm gay' unafraid of who might hear.
Eventually the gossip mill served its purpose and everyone at the office knew. No one asked directly though. It was wonderful at first. I felt unburdened, liberated, completely free. As the days went along I began to despair. If by chance, I offend anyone out there reading, please accept my most sincere apology beforehand. I was quite naïve about some things and downright ignorant about others. My experience with gay women was extremely limited. Or at least my experience with women that I was aware were gay. From what I could recognize as a lesbian, they were all hard butch women.
I didn't know anything about the dynamics of lesbianism. I had no examples other than the obviously recognizable butches I'd seen, to draw from. I didn't where to go to find other gay women, and if I did, how to approach a woman. I was a wreck with the weight of my confusion.
As it goes someone came into my life just when she was supposed to. Her name was Denise and she was gorgeous. Modelesque but not unhealthy looking. Curves in all the right places, dark chocolate skin that glowed with a smoothness I'd never seen off camera. I was immediately drawn to her but interestingly enough I found no sexual attraction. We hit it off quickly. Denise was the first one to ask me pointedly if I was into women. I told her yes and she said, "Good. I'm glad I'm not the only femme in the building. I was beginning to worry I'd have to fend off all the groveling butches alone."
I was floored. She was being so candid, yet I didn't fully understand what she was saying. What was a femme? And was she categorizing me as one? Well naturally, I was embarrassed at the prospect of having to reveal my ignorance to this woman. I mean, I was nearly twenty-five! Still, my mama always said a closed mouth don't get fed and my curiosity was eating me alive. So I screwed up my courage and the next time we went outside for a smoke break I asked her.
To my surprise and relief she was very understanding. "Honey, you remind me a lot of myself when I was your age. I didn't know a thing." She smiled at me then. Denise was my education. She explained the typical types of lesbians, told me I was femme and removed a worry I didn't even know I'd housed when she informed me it wasn't necessary for me to change my style of dress or behavior to be accepted in the gay community.
You would think things would have progressed quickly for me from there. I'm an attractive woman if I do say so myself. Regardless of that fact and the fact that I had enough offers to keep me flattered but not overwhelmed, it wasn't until I was on the cusp of my twenty-eighth birthday when I finally met the woman who drew me in, made me want to take the plunge. I'd been telling myself I was being extra choosey because it was such an important step. The truth was I had moved in with fear. It was comfortable enough for awhile but sexual frustration began to manifest itself. By the time I'd struggled my way up the corporate ladder into a nice corner office with a personal assistant, I'd also earned myself a reputation as a hard nosed bitch. Hey, you try going twenty-seven years without satisfying sex, see how you do.
Just as I was to the point where I was entering nervous breakdown candidacy, she came into my world and I knew I would be changed because of it. Her name was Jada Montgomery. She was quite simply the most gorgeous being I have ever seen. She was, by today's standards, what would be called androgynous. Or, if she were a man, metrosexual. Five feet eleven inches tall, two hundred very well proportioned and amazingly toned pounds of sexy ass woman.
She was in town for six months heading a new advertising project. The company was giving its image a major overhaul. We didn't have much cause for interaction except for the monthly department head meetings. I entered the conference room to the buzz of conversation surrounding the fact that the CEO of the company was there in person. Usually his personal assistant sat in on these meetings because he considered himself far too important to have to bother. Speculation was that the ad genius the company had reportedly spent an exorbitant amount of money to secure was very much worth Daniel Schuemaker rescheduling his tee time at the country club. I took my seat and began looking over my notes. People assembled themselves quickly and I knew Dan must be fast approaching. He began speaking as soon as he cleared the door. "Ladies and gentlemen, as you all know we're making some big changes for the coming year. A large part of this initiative is going to take place in our advertising and public relations. I'd like to welcome Jada Montgomery to our family. She's signed on for the next six months." He continued, but I'd looked down the table as most everyone present had, and seen her. Everything else became a humming in the background; white noise to be tuned out.
Our eyes met for a moment and her lips curved up slightly. Androgynous really just isn't a flattering enough term. She wore a simple, classy Jones of New York suit with a deep red blouse beneath the jacket. Her jet black hair hung long around her shoulders in a pin straight cascade, her eyes were a dark mysterious brown and I felt for that one breathless moment that she could read my very soul. Mocha brown skin, smooth and healthy.
