Lesbian woman steps out of the closet and finds love.
*
Alone with her thoughts of making love to another woman, kissing her, touching her, feeling her, holding her, being kissed and touched by her, Janice's frustration with her lack of a sexual life was unbearable. She didn't want to spend, yet, another summer alone. Whenever she wished she could have hot passionate, sweaty sex with another co-ed, which was all the time, restraint and composure is what she used to pretend she wasn't who she was. She was a phony having to live a lie. Every day she pretended she was someone else, was another day she lived life alone and lived a life she didn't want to live.
She ignored the buzzing sound of her busy vibrator for it not to ruin her sexual fantasy. From kissing their lips, to slowly stripping them naked, to exploring every inch of their naked bodies, to feeling and sucking their tits, to licking and fingering their pussies, and/or just lying in bed sharing intimate laughter and sexy conversations, while basking in the afterglow of hot sex, she had fantasized about nearly every woman on campus, mostly the good looking ones. Once a model and a beauty queen, she was just as shallow as the horny men were, when it came to choosing a tall, shapely, and beautiful woman over a short, obese, and homely one. Glad that classes were over, always so horny, especially in the summer, it was more difficult concentrating on her studies then. Yet, boredom replaced her dedication and hard work.
So, horny and so sexually unsatisfied, most times for her to get interestingly aroused, all it took for her to become preoccupied with sex and for her to have a sexual fantasy was to hear the laughter of a pretty woman or to overhear a conversation, to see someone with nice hair, or to watch an attractive woman who looked good wearing a certain outfit. Wanting to get up out of her chair and befriend her, kiss her, hold her, and make love to her, how do you approach another woman for sex without revealing that you're a lesbian? Not wanting anyone to know she preferred women to men was her dilemma. Living in a world controlled by men, especially in the world of academia, she had much to lose and nothing to gain by declaring her sexual preference.
She couldn't. She wouldn't. She had to wait until the time was right to reveal herself, but sexual frustration and loneliness was the high price she paid to pretend she wasn't who she was. It shouldn't be this difficult to find that one special person and fall in love, but it was. Handicapped by judgmental criticisms of arbitrarily accepted norms and discriminated against by a puritanical society, she should be allowed to live her life in the way she wanted to live it without apologies to anyone. What she does with her body is none of anyone's business but her and her lover. Yet, even though she believed all of that, she still feared being discovered and revealed for her true self.
Most times, it was easier for a woman to pretend she wasn't lesbian than it was for a man to pretend that he wasn't gay. Unable to hide it as well, sometimes not avoiding confrontation but welcoming it with their in your face homosexuality, guys were more obvious about their sexual orientation than women. She couldn't wait for the day when she could emerge from the closet and live her life in the way that she wanted to make herself happy and needed to make herself whole. Tired of pretending, she was tired of being someone else. She yearned to have a special someone in her life, a close friend who was also her lover, someone she could love and share all her secrets without fear of being judged or ridiculed.
In the meantime, she had to follow the rules of the game she was playing. She learned long ago how to befriend men to get what she wanted by using her good looks and to beguile men to receive what she needed by using her amazing body. Everyone thought she was happy, well adjusted, and put together. Instead she was a mess, a woman who'd fantasize and masturbate over her hidden sexual fantasies numerous times a day. She was horny, lonely, and unfulfilled.
Janice wasn't looking forward to spending another summer alone. She remembered last summer and the summer before, she went nowhere and did nothing. It's such a travesty to live close to such an exciting and historic city as Boston and not want to explore it, but it's no fun doing things alone. She was tired of being so alone and feeling so lonely.
She thought things would be different, moving from a small town to a big city. Only, she felt the same way here that she did there. Basically, she was a leper. Between her sexual attraction for women and the sexual attraction that men had for her, judged solely by appearance, stuck between her needs and desires that struggled against the wants and expectations of men, she was a square peg unable to fit a round hole. Having no safe haven to let her hair down, always feeling as if there was something wrong with her, she didn't fit in anywhere. She wished she had someone to talk to, a support group, but she'd have to step out of her protective closet to do that and she wasn't ready to be labeled as a lesbian, just yet.
Even though this was the 21st century, perhaps because it undermined men, lesbian women were met with too much discrimination, an understatement, and she had too much at stake to expose herself in that way. The doors her beauty could open as a straight woman would quickly slam shut, once she admitted that she was a lesbian and not interested and aroused by a man. Without a doubt, a gay man in a straight society had an easier going of it than a lesbian woman in a man's world.
Weighed down with conventions written by men, women are supposed to get married and have babies. Women are expected to be subservient and dependent on men. Women are supposed to be attracted to men. Women are supposed to need men and not be able to live life without men. Men, men, men, manly men, macho men, machismo men, even in this enlightened society, it was still all about men. Even after the sexual revolution and even in this new age of Aquarius, needing the gentle touch of a woman, instead of the horny grope of a man, women aren't supposed to have sexual needs and urges that men can't satisfy.
Much like that song by the Pointer Sisters, I Need A Slow Hand, instead of wanting the slow hand of a man, Janice wanted a slow hand of a woman. She needed a female lover with an easy touch, someone who will spend some time, and not come and go in a heated rush. She wanted someone who would understand, when it comes to love and what she wanted and needed, only a woman could do that for her, not a man, never a man.
She had several more years of this internal struggle. Once she graduated from college, once she finished graduate school, once she got a job, an apartment, and a life of her own, is when she'd step out of the closet, but not now. With school and career choices at stake, getting internships and grants, applying to professors for research projects, she had enough on her plate and there was too much going on to somehow squeeze a sex life in the equation, too, especially one, as a lesbian, that would certainly exclude her from selection in a man's world.
She'd have to put sex, love, and romance on the backburner because she'd have a much greater chance of being chosen for all of the above, if her male professors thought she was a straight woman and interested in them seducing not only her mind with knowledge but also her body with sex. If they viewed her as a potential sexual plaything for them to believe that they were using and taking advantage of her, instead of the other way around, she'd use them for what she needed and take from them all that she wanted. If her male mentors flattered themselves that she wanted them and that they had a chance with her, she'd stay ahead of her competition by enlisting their academic help with her good looks. It was a game she played and for her to stay playing the game, she needed to suppress her natural born desire to be a lesbian.