Sometimes things start with a look or a glance. An unexpected meeting. Something gone astray. Other times it's just the routines of life. In any event, my first lesbian relationship was during one of those routine life experiences.
I was a tennis player in college. Not great but not horrible either. I had a powerful serve and because I'm left handed and could really put some crazy English on the ball I could make up for an average ground game. I was on the varsity women's as well as mixed doubles. Not bad for a girl who really wanted to be on Cheer-didn't get on the squad as I wasn't "perky and energetic" enough and for whom tennis was a sideline fun thing to do.
And before you all think the wrong thing, the girls on the team weren't all raging lesbians. Most girls had boyfriends but there were the ones you wondered about as they never dated or their boyfriends lived out of town and were always too busy to come see them, yada, yada, yada. And when it came to boy talk they never seemed to have the lingo down right-when you've had sex with a boy you talk about it a way that speaks of passion and experience and their descriptions of their relationships never seemed to jive.
Back then too no one ever came out but we all kind of knew which girls didn't like boys as much as they liked girls. It wasn't a big deal as college then was a time for experimenting and who knows if they were really les or if it was just a time for trying new things.
So after practice one afternoon, I went back to my sorority house as I randomly felt like showering there. I was still in my practice uniform right down to the old school girls tennis polo, tennis skirt and spanky panties. About halfway home I started regretting that choice as I was hot and sweaty-soaked really and had to walk past frat row. Of course the boys were out on their front porches drinking and then of course they started catcalling me. Can't tell you how many times I heard how they wanted to spank me with my racket or offered to let me use their showers. It was fun to be flirted with but it was also annoying. Couldn't they at least come up with better lines?
Anyway got to my house and went right into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. Jeannie was in there with a couple of the girls and for whatever reason gave me the once over I'd long associated with how a boy will look at you when he likes what he sees. Jeannie was a soph like me but we weren't in the same pledge class and I kind of knew her but other then parties and formals we weren't especially close.
I was knocked off my stride a bit as I wasn't expecting her to look at me that way, smacked my racket bag against my leg and kind of fell against one of the refrigerators. Jeannie bounced up, came over, asked me if I was ok and helped me up. In so doing, she brushed her hand up under my skirt and felt my spanky panties and butt cheeks for a brief moment. Our eyes met and my knees were ever so weak. Her eyes were brown, she was a dark readhead and up close I noticed that she had freckles all over her nose and cheeks. For a moment I felt this bolt of lightning jolt through me as she held me and looked up closely into my eyes. If she was a guy I'd have kissed her I think as I was so moved by her sexy eyes and freckles.
Jeannie is shorter than me, compact with large brown eyes, short thick and luxurious auburn red hair, freckles and small breasts. She looked a lot like Dorothy Hamill. On this day she was wearing hospital scrubs and one of our sorority themed t-shirts.
The moment passed and recovering my poise, thanked Jeannie and got my juice.