Our wonderful Discovery
I married young and had not really had time to find out how I actually felt about sex, marriage, and commitment. He and I started growing apart pretty fast and the marriage self destructed soon after it started. We began quarreling everyday and it was a constant struggle, fighting about everything from how to set the table, to the color of the sofa, to what bills needed to be paid first. I was either too critical or mindlessly Pollyanna. He was angry or sophomorically immature, and finally the sight of him disgusted me and made me want to just get away. We struggled to make it work, but we finally accepted reality. I decided it had been a mistake after about a year, but I stuck it out for another ten months. Finally, I gave up. Just lost interest.
We got a divorce after two years, and I didn't want to even think about being with anyone again for a very long time. Not, that is, until I met Karen at a gardening class on a Saturday in June, five months after the divorce was final. She was in short shorts and had her hair up in a ponytail, a tank top with no bra, and was positively stunning. I lusted after her at the first sight of her.
I had never been with another woman and had not had any lesbian thoughts before, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her. We connected over a artichoke plant and began to chat. We connected like I could not believe. She seemed to be attracted to me as well, and we ended the day going for coffee after the class. It was lust at first sight, and before our coffee cups were empty we were planning our next meeting.
I invited her to my place that very afternoon, she came, and before the day was over we ended up in the shower, soaping each other, washing one another, and then kissing when the water was off, drying one another and standing in the shower stall, naked, wet, fondling one another, and very sexually charged. I had never kissed another woman, but I kissed Karen with a passion I had never felt before. I was euphoric.
I led her to my bed, put her down on the bedspread, opened her legs, and went right to kissing her pussy like a ravenous animal going for food. It was my first time but knew it wouldn't be my last. I licked, and sucked, and kissed her pussy lips while I spread her thighs with my forearms. I didn't know the female body, even though I had one, but I explored it like Marco Polo.
Karen came with an explosion that burst from her like dynamite, and she climbed up my body until our lips were together and our tongues played in concert like eels, and my head spun like a top, wanting to please this woman anyway I could.
"You ever done this before?" she asked breathlessly as our tongues entwined and we sucked each other's.
"I have never even thought about it once in my life," I told her as I fought for a breath. "I have never even seen another woman's pussy," I said. "But yours is beautiful. I love it," I said. "I could look at it all day. You taste fantastic," I said.
"Can I taste you?" she ask, looking eager and ravenous.
"If you don't I'll die," I said frantically, nearly begging.
I turned, offering her my vagina, and when her lips touched my pussy I gasped. The feeling was beyond wonderful. I put my head back and sighed a very happy sigh.
We lay together, holding one another, just luxuriating in the closeness and the warmth of the other woman's naked body for hours. We went to dinner at a restaurant down the street and I could feel her mouth on my pussy for the rest of the night. When we finished eating we went back to my apartment and once again made love, slept for a couple of hours, then made love and ate each other repeatedly.
Sex had never been so wonderful. Life had never been so good, and I never felt love as intensely as I did that evening. That night I sucked each of her breasts, holding her erect nipples on my tongue as I suckled and drew each between my lips, savoring the feeling of the hard button in my mouth. Then I offered her mine and cooed as she returned the favor with each of my boobs, moaning and loving the sensation of her lips on my teats.
When I woke to see her looking at me, and I pulled her naked female form against mine and groaned. "You are beautiful," I whispered. We kissed for the next hour. We ate naked at the table, each admiring the other through breakfast and beyond.
We walked around the park after we ate and held hands, not caring who saw, who knew, and we vowed to decide whose place we would keep and whose would we advertise. Hers was closer to school, my work, and it had two bedrooms, although we had decided without discussion to share the same room. It was an easy decision.
"Are we lesbians?" she asked on our third night.
"I don't know," I said, "but I am in love. Have you ever been with another woman before?" I asked.
"One," she said. "My first roommate, Julia. But she met the love of her life and married him. It was a spontaneous thing that I didn't regret, but I didn't think it was who I was. Nothing like this week with you," she said with a sexy smile. "I think it is who I am now. You?"
"I know it is who I am from now on," I said, putting my arms around her neck and kissing her with as tender of a kiss as I could manage. I moved my head to the side and held my mouth against hers. She offered me her tongue and I began sucking on it like it was a tiny cock, which I no longer had any interest in.
I moved in with Karen the next weekend, and we spent most of Saturday and Sunday either unpacking boxes or licking each other on the sofa, the kitchen sink, our bed, and on the bench in the shower, totally wet and smelling like lavender shampoo.
Our first big undertaking was letting our families know about us. We considered keeping it hush, but we both wanted to be honest with them, to stand up for ourselves and show we weren't ashamed of what we had. That meant confronting my father with what he had once called 'fucking lesbians'. It meant telling him, "I am a fucking lesbian and I would like you to meet and get to know the fucking lesbian I live with and am in love with."
My mom would like anyone I liked, even the asshole I had married was fine with her. "He seems like a nice boy," she had said after meeting him just once. My sister was married to a redneck who felt Donald Trump was misunderstood, but as a sister she would be supportive no matter what I did. She would be loyal to me no matter if I fell in love with the creature of the black lagoon. Sylvia was what a sister should be.
The rest of my aunts and uncles were spread across the political spectrum like dandelions on an out-of-season soccer field. Them I could not care less about, especially uncle Tony, who felt Nixon got a raw deal.
I went to meet her parents and then she met mine. Her mom had remarried a minister and he wasn't about to say anything about two women since his church was the first to sanction gay marriage in the state. It was pleasant and we left getting kisses from the whole family. I actually felt welcome.
My dad was guardedly pleasant, but he never smiled the whole night. As we left he hugged me, which was the best I could hope for, but my mother held onto Karen like she was a long lost cousin. We left my house looking at each other like 'well, we got through that.'
Karen works at the city library and I teach first grade at an elementary school close by the apartment we now share. I took her to a teachers' social and introduced her as my roommate. One of the other teachers, Ms. Tonya Carlton, smiled at us knowingly and leaned in close. "You two make a beautiful couple," she said with a wink.
For some reason at that moment I took Karen by the arm and thanked Ms. Carlton, pulling my new roommate against me, not caring who noticed what I had done. After that I held Karen's hand as we walked around the room, chatting with other guests, and after a while, when the music began to play to invite people to dance, I led her to the dance floor and took her into my arms. As the music began I started dancing with Karen, holding her close and putting my forehead on her shoulder. Moving slowly, sensuously. For a reason I didn't fully understand, I wanted people to know about us, to know we were a couple, to know I loved her and planned to live my life with her.
As we danced people began to notice and people started watching us. Enjoying the attention, I leaned in and kissed her, tenderly. Our lips met and she offered me her tongue. I took it and held the kiss. When I did that I heard clapping and as I looked around I saw Ms. Carlton applauding us. I hoped people knew we often made mad, passionate woman-to-woman love, lesbian sex that involved lips and tongues and vaginas. I really wanted them to know.
As we left, Tonya Carlton came over and kissed us both. "You two come back now, you hear," she said. Ms. Carlton taught fifth grade and I knew had a wife who she had married in the summer. Her wife's name was Rene and was from Jamaica. Gay marriage had only been legalized in the state for two years. I had not thought much about her being gay, but now it connected us wonderfully. I had never thought of myself as gay, or even close, but at that moment it seemed to be the case, and I wanted everyone in the room to know it.
When we were in the car, Karen asked about Tonya. "She is married to a woman named Rene," I said with a smile. "Rene is the vice principal at the high school. They were married last summer and about half of the faculty went to the wedding. When I was in junior high, a teacher was fired for being gay. Times, thank God, have really changed."
"She seemed to know we are a couple," Karen said.
"Her gay-dar is working overtime," I said. "She knew my husband and hated his guts. I guess she is a good judge of character. Better than I was," I said.
