As I strolled down the corridor in the dorm, I caught a glimpse of her walking to the girls' shower room.
"How the hell can she take a shower with a candy sucker in her mouth?" I silently fumed.
Since the start of sophomore year, I had been butting heads with Ginny. Everything about her irritated me from her sunny disposition to the big "D" cup breasts that resided on her chest.
But, it was that damned always present lollipop that drove me bonkers. Thanks to Psych. 101, I was naively convinced that Ginny had an oral fixation. Visions of her blowing multiple guys streaked across my brain.
Strangely, Ginny never uttered an unkind word to me. Her friendly demeanor and positive attitude was unwavering towards me. I was the one with the unexplained chip on my shoulder.
It was a confusing time for me, the late 1960's. Women's publications of the day encouraged us to explore our sexuality and that's exactly what was scaring the daylights out of me.
In my senior year of high school, I had an active social and dating life. But, in spite of the sexual freedom that was supposedly rampant, most of my girlfriends, including me graduated high school as virgins at the age of eighteen.
Unlike today's teens, oral sex was reserved for that special someone in a long term relationship. Reciprocation via cunnilingus was hardly a novel idea and while guys were willing, most were uneducated on the technique.
However, a bewildering but growing sexual interest in my own gender had thrown me into a state of flux. In the girls' locker room at the swim club, I found myself trying to innocently glance at the naked bodies of my friends as they changed or emerged from the shower.
My fascination and desire for intimacy with another girl unexpectedly blossomed at my cousin Maddy's wedding the summer after high school graduation.
It was held at a swank country club and I was assigned a seat at the young adults table with guests from both sides of the wedding party. The grooms' cousin Daphne was a dark haired beauty with a voluptuous body. For most of the reception I was intrigued by her and stole glances at her full figure. My body tingled and an odd feeling settled into my gut. On a trip to the ladies restroom, I discovered that my panties were damp.
My reaction unsettled me and I tried to be standoffish but Daphne's friendliness and ability to engage me in conversation broke down my barriers.
We danced together, except the slow ones, and our participation in the "chicken dance" left us laughing uncontrollably and gasping for air. We exited thru a side door that bordered on an alleyway to catch our breath.
As our breathing returned to normal and the laughter subsided, Daphne regarded me with a smoldering expression. To my complete and utter surprise she leaned towards me and kissed me full on the lips.
Instead of pushing Daphne away and wiping my mouth in disgust, I pulled her against me and drove my tongue thru her sexy lips. Some unnamed emotion or need took control of me and we made out for a few minutes until we heard the door open.
A quick trip to the washroom to reapply make up and adjust clothing was necessary and we rejoined the reception without any questioning stares.
Although part of me was thoroughly unnerved by the experience, the other half craved a repeat. Sadly, the reception ended and Daphne hugged me goodbye with a cheerful expression.
Later that night as I lay in bed, that tingling feeling returned as I thought about Daphne. My reluctance to discuss such a sensitive matter was based solely on the fact I trusted no one to keep my sexual leanings a secret. My mother was the June Cleaver type and would probably have sent me to a convent. My only hope for salvation through a chaste and prayer filled life.
I tried to convince myself that my interest in boys' was unchanged and the following weekend I gave my steady boyfriend Danny a humdinger of a hummer.
However, at some point I fantasized that it was Daphne and I was licking her in a forbidden spot. Just the thought of that taboo ritual, had my pussy creaming.
Instead, I was performing fellatio for the umpteenth time when my true feelings took hold of my conscious mind.
"Why am I always blowing him when he's only touched me thru my panties" My brain screamed out loud.
When Danny shot his wad, I spit the offensive goop out of his car window with repugnance.
"Why the fuck did you do that Gail? He snorted at me.
"Because I'm tired of always giving you head and you won't do the same to me." I replied angrily.
"Guy's don't do that sort of thing." He retorted sneeringly.
"Why?" I asked very loudly.
"Ah...because it's...well smelly and..."
"Where did you get the stupid idea it smells? Your hillbilly buddies?" I asked with my anger building.
Danny hated me referring to his friends as "hillbillies" but I swear they were an addled brained bunch.
Danny hemmed and hawed but refused to even look between my legs and I was fully clothed.
"Take me home now, you jerk." I spat angrily.
"What is it Gail? Has all this feminist crap in the magazines gone to your head?" he said derisively.
I shot Danny an inflamed look of hate that stunned him. He quickly started the car and tried to placate me on the way home. But, I was silent and close to rage from his idiotic comments.
As Danny pulled up to the curb at my house, I jumped out of his car and walked hurriedly to the door. I heard his voice trailing after me.
"I'll call you next week. Maybe we can go see a movie"
"Yeah! When pigs fly asshole!" I muttered under my breath.
The two remaining months before the start of freshman year at college were spent in a self imposed dating quarantine. I turned down all requests for dates. Most of my free time was devoted to reading anything I could get my hands on concerning same sex activities.
At that time, pertinent and reliable information was sketchy at best. Most of us thought of dykes' as burly women with short haircuts, dressed in manly duds and leather jackets. I knew in my heart that I had no interest in cutting my hair, men's clothing or leather attire of any kind.
There wasn't the slightest chance anyone would mistake me for burly or brawny. I barely nudged the bathroom scale at one hundred pounds with a slender body and small "A" cup breasts.
About a week after graduation, I got an invitation to my cousin Maddy's new home for a house warming and pool party. Secretly, I yearned to see Daphne and prayed that she was invited.
The day of the event, I was uncharacteristically ready long before my mom and dad. They stared at me in disbelief as I practically ran to the car.
Maddy and Stan's home was a two story California style split level with a kidney shape pool. I nervously scanned the crowd and spotted Daphne in a small red two piece that barely hid her "assets".
For awhile, I hovered in the background, too nervous to approach Daphne. My new bikini barely hid my smaller "assets" and I was approached by Stan's hunky brother Wes.
In any other circumstance, I would have been flattered but my objective was Daphne. I listened attentively to Wes prattle on but his efforts to impress me fell on deaf ears.
