I Will Never Be the Same

© 2013

For JS, who provided the inspiration.

Note: If you're looking for a story with tons of pornographic sex and no relationship, this is probably not the story for you.

***

Working as an ER nurse is never dull, especially since I work nights. One Friday night my friend, Suzanne, brought in a victim of a drunk driver. As we lifted the woman onto the gurney together, I noticed Suzanne looked pale and had bags under her eyes. She'd tugged her EMT cap down low, but I could still see them. When a tech came and wheeled the patient down to radiology, I let the patient get out of earshot before checking on Suzanne.

"Hey, you ok?"

She sighed. "Actually, no." She started repacking her medkit. "But I've gotta get through this shift without breaking down. Can we talk later?"

"Duty first, right? How about breakfast after shift?"

"That'd be good. Thanks, Tara."

"No problem. And the coffee's on me this time."

***

The EMTs and ER staff are a big, nutty, dysfunctional family. We're there for each other—have to be. We see some pretty crappy stuff. I'm an introvert and I tend to keep quiet at our after hour get-togethers, but Suzanne brought me out of my shell at the Christmas party about three years ago. She'd only just started as an EMT, but drank pretty hard along with the rest of us anyway. Someone started playing Journey tunes and Suzanne broke into song, roping me in with her. Neither of us could carry a tune, but we didn't care. Once we realized we were both Journey fanatics, our friendship was sealed.

I knew from the start that Suzanne was gay, but we'd never be a couple. There's my marriage, for one thing. She'd also been with her partner, Angie, for several years. Mostly though, I knew I wasn't her type. I'm average. Average height, average weight, medium build with light brown shoulder-length hair. I'm good looking, but I don't turn heads.

Suzanne's girlfriend Angie, on the other hand, was stunning: tall, thin, with long black hair and exotic eyes. She'd modeled when she was younger and now made big bucks as a tech consultant.

Suzanne is beautiful too, though ostensibly she shouldn't be. Her nose is a little too sharp, her chin a little too narrow. It doesn't hurt that she's tall and has a strong, fit, lithe body. Maybe it's the long, thick, blond hair she keeps in a single braid down her back, or maybe it's her deep blue eyes. It could be her slow, brilliant smile, or her infectious laugh. Or maybe it's her kindness. Whatever it is, people notice her everywhere she goes. More than a few of her fellow EMTs—both men and women—had "joked" that if she ever left Angie they'd be happy to fill the gap.

I realized I'm bisexual after several years of marriage. My husband travels sometimes and one night I wandered into a lesbian erotic story site. I stayed up most of the night, masturbating furiously. That was the first time I realized I'm not completely straight. Looking back, I realized I'd had a crush on one of my female high school teachers and on at least one student in nursing school, though I couldn't have said that at the time.

Most of my sexual fantasies are about women now, and I've wondered for a long time what it would be like to make love with another woman. I'd never considered leaving Greg, though—partly because of our two kids and partly because I love him. Plus, I get all the drama I need from being an ER nurse. Being attracted to women was there in the background, my own dirty little secret. Then one night in August, everything changed. It was the night before what would have been my dad's birthday -- about six months after he'd died.

***

I beat Suzanne to our usual spot at the coffeehouse by twenty minutes. I nudged her coffee towards her when she plunked herself down. She looked tired and beaten and I was a little worried. She had changed into jeans and a faded tight red t-shirt. Even dressed down she drew looks.

"So?" I prompted as she blew on her coffee.

"Angie left."

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I'd hoped you two would work it out." I let it trail off. "Is it too soon to hate her? Say the word and I'll get my hate on."

It earned me a half-smile. "No hate required. I still want kids; she still doesn't. There's just no middle ground on that kind of thing. Reality is she probably did me a favor by leaving. I would've stayed longer, just hanging on for the wrong reasons. I pretend I'm strong, but I don't like being alone."

"I wish I knew what to say."

"Yeah." She looked out the window. "Me too." She forced a smile. "So, know anybody looking for a two-bedroom apartment with a depressed dyke roomie who can't cook worth a crap?"

I did a quick scan of the cafe. "I see a few hopeful applicants already."

"See? That's why we hang out. You always know what to say. Sure you won't reconsider switching teams? I think your sympathetic talents are wasted on the menfolk." I snorted.

"And how're you holding up? It's your dad's birthday tomorrow, right?"

"Yes."

My dad was my biggest cheerleader through school. We'd both watched nurses care for my mom as cancer sucked the life out of her. Those women and men were kind, strong, and helpful. By the time Mom died, I knew I wanted to be a nurse. I'd been a so-so student up to that point and wasn't sure I could make it through all the science classes. My dad helped me buckle down. We even learned chemistry together. I'm not sure which one of us cried more at my nursing school graduation. I know we both wished my mom had been there.

Then a couple of years ago, my dad was diagnosed with brain cancer. When he died it was beyond awful. Nobody should watch a parent die that way. Watching them both suffer was indescribable.

"Hey." Suzanne brought me back when her hand slid on top of mine. "It gets better."

I swallowed thickly. "I know. I just wish it would hurry up."

"Oh sweetie." She knew too. She'd lost her mom in a car accident a few years before. That was another reason we'd become friends. Until somebody's been through it, they just don't understand.

"A fine pair we are," Suzanne said.

I gave her a tired smile. "Yeah. Well, I should probably head home. Get some sleep."

"Me too. Ugh, I kinda don't want to go home. Angie's stuff is all over the place."

"So don't."

"Don't what?"

"Go home. Come home with me. Greg's parents are celebrating their 30th anniversary this weekend. He took the kids with him to Miami."

Her eyebrow crooked up. "He left you alone on your dad's birthday?"

"I told him to go. I wanted to take care of me this weekend, not the kids."

"Oh."

"So come crash at our place. You have another shift tonight?"

She shook her head.

"Perfect. It'll be girls' night then. We can watch crappy movies and drown our sorrows in ice cream. A little avoidance never hurt anyone."

"Are you sure?"

"About avoidance or you coming over?"

She chuckled. "I'm good with avoidance. I meant coming over."

"Of course. We have plenty of room. Grab some clothes and come on. I'd like the company." I said.

"Hell yes. Can I rant a little about Angie while I stuff my face with Ben and Jerry's?"

I snorted. "Like you have to ask."

***

I had changed into a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts and had just started to nod off when Suzanne rang the doorbell a little while later.

"Hey. Come in."

"Hey yourself. I catch you catnapping?"

"S'ok. Just fading. Let me show you the guest room." I started walking down the hall towards the bedrooms.

"Um, can I ask a favor? Could we, I mean, could I...."

"Out with it."

"It's just...I'm not used to sleeping alone. Would you...mind if I shared your bed? I..." Suzanne's voice trailed off.

"Sure, no problem. Come on."

"You sure?"

"Of course." I smiled and led the way to the master bedroom. "Come on, get in," I said. Then I yawned. "I doubt I'll even notice you're there." As I crawled under the covers, I saw some emotion I couldn't read cross Suzanne's face. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

*** I woke up in a tangle of limbs and sheets at six that evening. As I turned over onto my back, Suzanne's bright blue eyes were looking at me.

"Hey sleepyhead."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to be thinking about going for a run."

I groaned. "Go for it. We have a treadmill in the guest room if you want to use it."

She shook her head. "Nah, I'm a glutton for punishment. I love sweating." She slid off the bed, moving with the easy grace of a natural athlete. She was wearing undies and the red t-shirt from earlier and I had a nice quick view of her tight buns. She grabbed her duffle bag and headed to the bathroom to change.

When she came back, she looked half-naked: running shorts that barely covered her ass, a running bra and little white socks. She sat on the edge of the bed to put on her shoes and I could see her smooth legs and the curve of her inner thigh.

She glanced up while tying her shoes and caught me looking, but said nothing until she'd finished and rose to pull her hair back into a ponytail. She stepped closer to the bed and smiled down at me. Her long lean stomach was inches away. It looked very smooth. "Last chance, sure you don't want to come?"

I blinked at her and smiled. "Okay, that sounded dirty."

She chuckled. "Sorry. Unintentional, I swear." But then she dipped down to peck me on the nose. "Be back in an hour."

I dozed for a few more minutes, showered, and threw on cut off shorts and a tee. I made coffee and was skimming the paper at the kitchen table when Suzanne returned. Her skin was beaded with sweat and her hair was plastered to her face. The jog bra was damp and a smidge too thin. She either didn't notice or didn't care that I could see the outline of her nipples.

She plunked down onto the tile floor and started stretching. "I'm going to grab a shower. Then food?" she asked with her nose in her knees. She was limber too. Lovely.

"Nope." She unfolded and hopped up. "Gimme ten. I'm a quick shower." She disappeared up the stairs.

It left me looking at the heart-shaped damp spot her bottom left on my tile floor. I heard the shower start. She'd be pealing out of her tight, damp clothes about now. Maybe she needed some help? I shook my head to clear it. Suzanne was too vulnerable and I was too married.

As promised, she trotted downstairs ten minutes later in a pair of white tennis shorts and a light blue t-shirt, still drying her hair with a towel. I'd cut-up some raw veggies and pulled out some salad dressing for a dip.

Suzanne grabbed a carrot. "This is way too healthy for girls' night."

"It's downhill from here. Pizza's warming in the oven, ice cream in the freezer, and I plan to do some damage to our wine collection. "

"That's my girl." She draped the damp towel over the back of the kitchen chair before sitting down. "So what happened with the auto accident chick I brought in last night? She make it?"

"Yeah. She's going to be setting off a lot of metal detectors, though. Three plates. Eight screws."

"Oof. Poor thing. Anything else happen?"

I rattled off the traumas as we ate at the kitchen table. It was nice to talk about work at dinner for once. Greg couldn't bear ER talk while he was trying to eat. Suzanne reached for a second slice of pizza while I described the arc of an arterial spurt that had splattered my shoes.

After dinner, we moved to the den. I spun through the week's new online movies and came up empty. Zombies, superheroes, or Nick Sparks flicks. "Uh, behind door number one are ice cream, wine, and really stupid movie. Behind door number two are ice cream, wine, and girl talk. Your choice."

"Girl talk. How's your sex life? Now that I'm single again I'm going to have to live vicariously through you."

I came back with two spoons, a quart of mint chocolate chip and a second of butter pecan. "Our sex life is good. My hubbie has it bad for you, by the way." I offered her both containers.

"Eh, it's the lez thing." She chose the pecan and skimmed a spoon over the top. "Guys dig the babe on babe action. I don't think they can help it."

"Maybe. Or maybe it's the fact that you're a tall blonde with killer legs and a spectacular ass."

Her spoon paused in midair, and she turned her head slowly to look at me. "Uh, was that Greg's assessment or yours, Tara?"

I dodged. "Please, that's just the universe talking."

"Hmm." She let me off the hook.

We swapped ice cream containers. I went right for the pecans and hoped she didn't notice. "Speaking of our departed youth, we've never talked about you coming out. When did you know?"

"That I was gay? Oh, right from the start. I was kissing girls on the playground. There were some awkward calls home from the vice-principal's office."

"Your parents didn't freak?"

"Nope, hippy parents. They thought it was groovy."

"Lucky you."

"Yep." She set her mint chocolate chip down and dragged a throw blanket off the back of the couch to spread it over both of us. "Ice cream's got me freezing. Prepare yourself, I'm going to snuggle into you, straight girl." She slid across until we were pressed together side-by-side. "Nothing personal, I just need some body heat."

"Your own fault for being so damn skinny," I needled, but was grateful for the warmth all the same. "OK, my turn for a question. So, strap-on dildos. Do lesbians actually use them or is that just porn bullshit?"

"Heh. Funny story about that. It will require more wine, though" I gathered the ice cream and came back with ridiculously overfilled glasses of Greg's prized Bourdeaux.

Suzanne eyed my generous pour as she accepted her glass. "Classy."

I shrugged. "Fewer trips. I'm getting you drunk, not romancing you."

"Ouch, way to dash a girl's hopes," she said before taking a long sip.

All the same, I wriggled back under the blanket and pressed into her again. "You'll get over it. Back to the strap-ons: fact or fiction?" I eased a leg over hers for good measure.

She shot me an exasperated look. "Jeez, mixed messages much? Okay, the adventures of Suzanne and her first college girlfriend at the adult toy store. It was the fall of 2001 and..." It was a long story that I tuned in and out of. I'd like to blame the wine, but the truth is it was hard to concentrate this close to Suzanne. Her voice was more than a little hypnotic and I found myself watching more than listening. Her lips as she talked. The way she smiled. The way her nose twitched. Her long delicate fingers as she pantomimed. "... and even after we worked out the size and shape, it took us half an hour to decide what color. Another half hour to pick the flavor of the lube then..."

The smell coming off her didn't help my concentration either as I recognized the smell of her lotion (a little bit like vanilla and little bit like...rain?).

"...so we finally get all this crap back to her sorority house, lock the door, strip naked, and just stared at each other."

I came back to the conversation. "How come?"

She grinned. "Cause neither of us wanted to wear it. We'd both just assumed the other one would." I laughed and she joined me. "Pathetic, right? God, we were clueless back then."

"Trust me, there's plenty of hetero horror stories too."

"Dish."

"Okay, Tara's First Time: a sad tale of poor planning and a disturbing revelation about one middle-aged housewife."

"Ooh, nice title."

"Thanks. Get comfortable."

Suzanne rotated sideways to lean back against the couch's armrest. It put her feet across my lap. "Can the story include a foot rub?"

"You're a sucker for having your feet rubbed, aren't you?" I asked.

"Yes. Your point?"

"No point. Just sayin'."

While I launched into my story, I began rubbing her narrow and surprisingly delicate feet. I explained how my parents had left me unsupervised to go into the city for a night on the town. My first serious boyfriend came over. I also described how they'd returned way ahead of schedule, because my mother had mixed up the date on their concert tickets.

"And?"

"We were in my bedroom when the front door opened. My would-be lover had just enough time to grab his clothes and hide on the balcony of our apartment building. Good thing the curtains were closed. My parents checked on me, then sat up watching TV for a while before they went to bed. Did I mention it was an unusually cold January night in Florida?"

"Oh my god...."

"Yep. Naked as a jaybird for all to see. He put his clothes on and waited out there, shivering in the cold, until they fell asleep."

"At least we don't live in Minnesota."

"No kidding."

She spun again until we were side by side on the couch again. "Okay, your turn." She patted her legs.

"For?"

"Foot rub. Fair's fair."

I wasn't going to argue. ER nurses spend a lot of time on their feet. I don't know a single one that doesn't love a foot massage. Suzanne's thumbs found all the right places. We fell quiet as she worked on me. When she was done with my feet, she moved up my legs to stroke my calves. She was gentle, but firm, riding the perfect line. My body responded and I didn't fight it. It felt good—safe.

When she worked her way up to my thigh, my breath caught. "Suzanne? I...what are we doing?"

I could see hunger in her eyes when she looked at me. "What do you want to be doing?"

"That depends on what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking about your legs and how smooth they are and how nice it is to finally touch them. And...." she trailed off.

"And?" I asked.

"I'm thinking about sliding my fingers up higher."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"You don't want me too?"

"I didn't say that. I just don't think it's smart." Her hands kept gently kneading my thighs. I was starting to feel dizzy.

"Why not?"

"Well, there's my husband, for one thing. And our friendship. And why now? Can you say this isn't about Angie leaving?" I stopped her hands with mine. "Look, cards on the table? I'm attracted to you, have been for a while now. But I don't want to jeopardize our friendship and I don't want to do this if your head's in the wrong place."

"Oh honey, do you really think this is the first time I've thought about this? About you?"

I blinked at her, trying to process that. This was all backwards. "But I'm just...me. Plain old me."

She rolled her eyes. "That's part of your charm, you know. You're beautiful, but you don't see it. You're the sweetest woman I know. You take care of everyone else first. Plus, you've got a hot little bod. This isn't just rebound, ok? I've been attracted to you for a long time. And I know you've been curious. I've seen the looks. They're getting more blatant."

I could feel heat spreading across my cheeks. There was no sense denying it. "Maybe I'm just having a midlife crisis. I don't want to screw up...."

"You're 32—way too young for midlife anything. And even if I'm rebounding and you're just bi-curious, so what? Why can't we share something nice, if only once? I trust us. I think we could do this without screwing up our friendship." Her hands began sliding upwards. I was acutely aware that she was running out of thigh.

I could feel my resistance slipping. "Promise me? Promise me this won't change anything."

She shook her head. "Can't promise that."

"Then..."

"No. I mean I think it will add something to our friendship. Not the sex. I just think it could bring us closer." She batted her eyelashes at me, exaggerating the gesture. "C'mon. Don't you want to be closer to me?"

"I never knew you were evil. You hide it well."

"Flatterer."

She brought her face to mine until our noses touched. "Just say yes. One little yes and I'll kiss you the way you've wanted to be kissed since the minute you started thinking about women."