The Accidental Lesbian

"Uh, Mom?"

"Yeah Sweetie, what is it?" Theresa Johnson looked up at her oldest daughter while she fixed sack lunches for her two other daughters before they left for school.

Becca Johnson was profoundly uncomfortable facing her mother. She was sent to talk to her mother about an uncomfortable subject not because, at 19, she was the oldest of three girls but because she had drawn the short straw – two out of three times. She made her sisters redraw twice and she lost each of the redraws two out of three; maybe it was fate – or maybe her sisters had rigged the draw.

Becca fidgeted and felt herself blush. Her mother was too busy to notice, she was fixing the last sandwich. "What is it, dear?" Theresa asked without looking up.

"Um...Mom. It's been over a year since..."

When Theresa heard

It's been over a year since

she took a deep breath, put the top on her next oldest daughter Alison's sandwich and slowly looked up at Becca.

Becca immediately thought,

Oh, God.

Theresa smiled as she looked at her blushing daughter. "Go ahead, Bec. It's okay. I know what you're going to say; I heard Ali and Lisa talking, no," Theresa corrected herself," conspiring against you, the other night when I was putting the towels in the linen closet."

Becca's mouth was open in exasperation with her sisters and half in relief. "So...I, um, don't need to give you the speech about Dad wanting you to get out..."

"No Sweetie. Your father made it explicitly clear that I was to find someone," she paused, her eyes getting moist, but her voice did not falter, "if he didn't, you know, make it back."

Becca rushed to her mother and hugged her tightly. They both shared a sniffle in remembrance of Colonel Robert W. Johnson, U.S. Marine Corps, husband and father, who one week before rotating home from the Sunni Triangle in Iraq, was killed when a rocket propelled grenade shot down the chopper he was riding in to catch his flight home. Robert and Theresa would have celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary just two months after he returned home. He was slated to retire in the spring of the following year.

Theresa and Becca broke their embrace, each wiping tears from their cheeks. Theresa reached out and held her daughter's face tenderly. "Bec, Sweetie, I'd had so much preparation when I saw those two Marines walking up the sidewalk that day in their dress blues with the priest. Your dad had been in Lebanon, Grenada, Panama, Haiti, Iraq the first time and Afghanistan and probably a dozen other places I'm not supposed to know about. We both knew someday his luck would run out and...well, baby, it ran out. Okay? Now it's us. And I am so grateful for you girls watching out for me but really, I'm okay. Okay?"

"Sure, Mom."

"Besides, your crazy aunt Victoria has set me up on some blind lunch date today with someone she knows."

Becca's face lit up. "And you're going?"

"Yeah. I figure what the hell, eh?"

Becca hugged her mother again and they both laughed though Theresa was less than enthused about blind dates. But then, she thought, it was lunch.

~~~~~~~~~

After Lunch and the Traffic Stop

The blind lunch date was not a total disaster, in fact, Theresa had a good time. It was a guy she had met at one of her sister's parties and she had a pretty good idea that her lunch date and her sister Victoria were sleeping together on a regular basis.

As Theresa raced from the Plaza, across the state line and west up Shawnee Mission Parkway, she reached for her cell phone and dialed her sister.

"I suppose the fact that you're calling me now and I hear automotive noises means you didn't get laid?" Victoria asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

"No, sweet little sister, I didn't get laid. But I'm not mad. I had fun. I needed some fun all right."

"Well, um, so what happened that, you know, you didn't have a nooner?"

"Well Vic, remember our pet Chihuahua Rod when we were kids at Cherry Point?"

"Yeah."

"And remember how Rod liked to try to mount the neighbor's German Shepherd all the time and how ridiculous that looked?"

"Um, yeah."

"Well, just about the time I was ready to let him take me for a roll in the hay I got this mental picture of my date as Rod and me as the German Shepherd and I started laughing and couldn't stop. Victoria, you do remember I'm almost six feet tall and your friend, my suitor for the day, was all of, what, five six?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone and then Victoria answered. "Look, sis, a cock is a cock and he knows how to use it pretty well. You should have gotten laid. Beggars can't be choosers, you know. But seriously, sis, he is very good in bed and I was willing to let him have you...I mean, my heart was in it."

Theresa laughed. "I know, you meant well."

Theresa turned south onto Antioch as she continued to talk to her sister. She had just crossed 75th street and was headed down into what most of the area residents knew as the "spider trap." Between 75th and 79th streets there is a small valley and in the swale of the valley usually sat an Overland Park Police cruiser, like a trap door spider, running radar and catching anyone coming down hill from north or south who was going over the 35 mph speed limit. Theresa was going 47 according to the ticket.

Theresa had crossed 79th before she heard the whoop of the siren and looked in her rear view mirror to see the police car in pursuit. Theresa swore softly, said goodbye to her sister and promptly pulled over. She suddenly had an outrageous idea. She giggled to herself; she'd seen it in the movies and thought

oh, why not

?"

She quickly checked her short, razor cut hair in the mirror. It was sort of a modified Marine buzz cut that accented her salt and pepper hair. It also accented her sort of spooky slate gray eyes, her long, sinuous neck and her high cheek bones. She checked her makeup quickly, then she unbuttoned her silk blouse exposing a large amount of fairly firm, bra less cleavage and she hiked her skirt more than half way up her tanned runner's thighs. She was prepared to wow the male patrolman and maybe avoid a ticket.

Theresa's fun ended abruptly, just as in the movies when the female driver has gone to all the trouble of semi-exposing herself, and she is suddenly faced with a female officer.

"Where's the fire ma'am?" The blond female officer with the mirrored aviator glasses asked as she bent into the window and faced Theresa.

"Uh," Theresa gave a little laugh, "before I answer that question officer, could I ask if maybe you're, uh, you know...?"

"If I'm

what

ma'am?" There was the slightest hint of offense in the officer's voice.

"Uh, I mean, um, you don't have a male partner back in the cruiser who would, you know, appreciate the fact that my breasts and thighs are practically bare, do you?"

The officer laughed and smiled a huge smile. "Ma'am, I gotta hand it to you, you have made my day. No. I don't have a male partner and yes, I

am

, if that's what you were wanting to ask and yes, I appreciate what you've done to yourself in order to avoid the ticket. A runner I'm guessing by the tone and shape of those thighs."

"Yes," Theresa smiled up at the officer, "I try to run a few miles a week."

"However, as so very appealing as I find you," the officer continued, her voice relaxed and still holding her pleasure at Theresa's outlandishness, "the fact remains that you were going 47 in a 35 and, please pardon my language, I got your ass dead to rights, ma'am. Now. License, registration and proof of insurance. Please, ma'am."

Theresa felt ridiculous for the way she tried to get out of the ticket but she was pleased that her and the officer seemed to have gotten along so well. She easily produced everything the officer asked for and the officer took all the items back to her cruiser to call it in.

In a few minutes Theresa saw the officer get out of her car and come back to the car. The officer handed Theresa the ticket and asked her to sign. As Theresa was signing the officer took a long, appreciative look at Theresa. Theresa caught the appraisal and fixed a curious stare at the blond officer. But the officer didn't know what to make of Theresa's response; the moment passed. Theresa handed the ticket book back to the officer and the officer handed Theresa her driver's license and other paperwork back and Theresa, somewhat embarrassed, somewhat curiously aroused and somewhat annoyed, continued on her journey to her office.

~~~~~~~~~~

Lonely is the Night

Becca Johnson was out with friends. Alison and Lisa Johnson were each spending the Friday night overnight with separate friends. The house was quiet. Theresa sat, half asleep and nursing her third glass of wine since eating dinner alone, in her favorite chair in the family room and watching TV. She didn't normally drink that much and she rarely sat in front of the TV drinking but she felt different of late. She reluctantly realized she was lonely and not necessarily for just companionship either. Her husband and she had quite a sex life, even when he was thousands of miles from home on assignment he'd send her an email or give her a call (his favorite saying, once he reached full colonel, was

rank has its privileges

) that would get her off.

Through what he wrote and the pornographic pictures and video clips, Theresa had become quite a connoisseur of erotica and porn. But still, she missed his smell, his touch, the feel of his body and she missed the rough, kinky sex that they were both so good at and both liked so well.

At about 9:30PM Theresa succumbed to the wine. She awoke with a start about 12:30.

There were moans filling the room, the source of which was not immediately apparent. Initially she thought maybe Becca brought a date home and they were getting passionate, not knowing that mom was asleep in her favorite chair but then she slowly started to focus her eyes on the TV.

Two women seemed to be wrestling in bed in slow, urgent motion, intently entwined and kissing, sucking and licking each other's bodies. Their hands and fingers moved with fluid, delicate motions against each other's skin and penetrated the wetness between their legs. Between the wine that had put her to sleep and her general fatigue and loneliness Theresa found herself getting aroused by the scene.

Theresa let the arousal build, especially as she saw the scene to whatever movie this was get rough and kinky:

the woman on the bottom suddenly grunted and she threw the woman on top of her over onto her back. Then the woman from the bottom wrestled the other woman's wrists in position to tie them to the headboard. The other woman pleaded for the woman to stop. But by this time the woman was tied - very securely. The woman who had tied her lover's(?) wrists to the headboard, sat back on her haunches. She had a malevolent smile on her face and she was breathing hard.

She answered the woman's plea by wiping sweat from her face with the back of her hand and then viciously slapping the woman's face and full breasts. The other woman cried out; begged to be untied. Theresa almost came as the she watched the other woman struggle in her bonds and felt the stinging of the slaps on the woman's face and breasts in her mind. In fact, she jumped slightly as the tied woman was struck and her finger slid inside her pants to find her clit.

The other woman got up. The camera followed her. Slowly and with much anticipation showing on her face, the woman stepped into the harness of a strapon dildo. The camera cut to the writhing body of the tied woman; her face contorted in fear.

At this, Theresa's sympathies switched sides. "God, you stupid bitch, shut up. You're about to get fucked!" Theresa said out loud, her finger working herself quicker.

The camera stayed on the tied woman's face as the other woman took her time to penetrate her and slowly start to pump. When the dildo entered the woman some of her fear changed to a look of bliss. The woman started whispering, 'Yes, please, Susan. More. Harder, please.'

Then there was noise, maybe coming from the kitchen. Theresa startled out of her pre-orgasmic arousal. She quickly took her hand from her panties, clicked off the TV and shakily called out her oldest daughter's name.

Then she saw the cat. "Shit, Sammy, you picked a hell of a time to interrupt things," Theresa said to the oblivious cat. Then she turned the TV back on but she was just too tired to get beyond arousal.

Annoyed, she got up and turned the TV off. She went through her nightly routine of getting ready for bed and about 1 AM crawled into bed, exhausted but restless. She slept with a full length body pillow that she wrapped her arms and legs around and snuggled her face into and tried to sleep.

Occasionally the pillow would be her lover. After tossing and turning fretfully for an hour or so Theresa, frustrated and annoyed, awkwardly pulled her pajama bottoms down to her ankles and opened her pajama top and re-entwined with the pillow. She tightened her long thighs around the pillow and ever so slowly rotated her hips to feel the silky fabric caress her body from her shaved sex to her belly, breasts and upper chest.

She briefly considered twisting around to get her favorite dildo out of the nightstand but she was just too comfortable. She rotated her hips again, this time grinding and then holding them tightly against the pillow. She stretched her long, runner's legs along the length of the pillow, feeling the constraints of her PJ bottoms binding her ankles. She drew her pleasure out; she was very practiced at being slow and focusing intently on every sensation that came to her.

She was coming to a peak. She felt the orgasm start to build and thought briefly about backing down, to work to reach the peak again - and maybe still again. But as she moved with the pillow she felt her pleasure trigger and release.

She let out a sigh and then a small giggle as the hot, tingly pleasure moved out from her sex in radiating waves, coursing down her moist inner thighs and up into her belly and breasts.

Ahhhhh, sweet merciful Lord

, she whispered to herself, rubbing her face against the pillow, smiling in the darkness to herself.

But as her pleasure started to ebb and she started drifting off to a very relaxed and blissful sleep she started to ask her husband to caress and massage her back. She stopped herself from verbalizing the thought but she ached to feel her husband's body stretched and pressed, molded, against her naked back, his hands cupping her breasts, occasionally one of his hands lazily dropping to caress her belly and inner hip.

~~~~~~~~~~

Patrol Officer Dana Clark sat down on the end of her bed after she got home from her tour. She slumped slightly, as much as her body armor would allow, and looked around her dimly lit bedroom at nothing in particular. She felt emotionally drained and bone tired; she wasn't sure why but she was too tired to care.

She pulled the long clip out of her French twist and shook out her shoulder length blond hair then unbuttoned her uniform tunic and pulled it off, casually tossing it on the floor near a pile of dirty clothes. She pulled the

velcro

straps holding her clamshell body armor in place and pulled it over her head, tossing it, just as casually, on the floor, followed by her tee-shirt and bra. She absentmindedly ran her hands over her smallish breasts, pulling at the nipples as if they itched and then rubbed her flat belly.

Dana finished getting out of uniform, put her service pistol in her gun vault then made sure that the

KelTec

9mm "belly gun" she kept in a strategic place in her apartment was loaded and ready to go in case of need. Then she poured herself a bath and soaked for a long time.

Dressed in a terry cloth bath robe and over sized gym socks she ate dinner on the couch while she watched TV. Dinner was a bowl of ramen noodles and a beer. She fell asleep shortly after dinner and awoke to David Letterman's monologue.

She picked up her phone, entered the code to block the caller id, and called an old lover. When she got the lover's machine she didn't leave a message. For a long while she simply laid on the couch, her eyes defocused and her mind blank, the phone lying on her belly just above the belt of her robe. Around 11 PM she made another call and this time the caller was home.

"Hey, Pop. It's Dana. How's it going?"

"Not bad baby, how's it going with you?"

"Eh," she hesitated wondering how much of her inner life to reveal to her father, "I'm okay."

"Funny, you don't sound okay."

Dana smiled to herself, "You could always tell when something was wrong with me, Pop. How'd you get so good?"

"Oh, you know. It's just what a father does," her father said nonchalantly. "So, what's up?"

Dana idly played with the belt of her robe and then dropped it to scratch her head. "Oh, you know, same old same old, Pop. Nothing to worry about. You and Mom okay?"

"Can't complain. Well, I could, but wouldn't do me any good so why waste my energy, eh?" Her father laughed. "Your mother's around here somewhere, you want to talk girl talk with her?"

Deep down Dana was desperate to talk to someone but she decided against talking to her mother. Her mother would ask questions that Dana never had the "right" answers for like, when was she going to find a man and have grand babies? Either her mother didn't understand the concept of lesbianism or she understood and was just not going to let facts stand in the way. "Nah, Pop. Just tell her hi and I love her. I love you too. I'm just a little tired, that's all."

"Well, get some sleep, babe. It will be better in the morning."

"Yeah, Pop, thanks. Talk to you later." She hung up a sigh then made herself get up and go to bed. She put a DVD in the player in her bedroom and fell asleep while watching the movie,

Tequila Sunrise

, dreaming that she was Mel Gibson and Michelle Pfeiffer was passionately kissing her.

~~~~~~~~~~

Early Morning Coffee and Then Dinner

After morning roll call at the Antioch Patrol Division and checking out her weapons and other gear, including her cruiser, Officer Clark headed for

Quik Trip

on 87th street and her large morning cup of coffee. She'd just come out of the doors of the convenience store when something on the street caught her attention. She stopped abruptly and scanned the street. She decided whatever it was was nothing and she turned and started for her cruiser - not seeing the woman coming toward her to go inside.

The two women collided. The hot coffee from Officer Clark's cup shot up into the air and came down with a splash, most of it going inside her uniform tunic and between her body armor and her body, soaking into her tee-shirt. The rest splashed on the woman's upper chest and ran down inside her jogging top. The other woman was Theresa Johnson.

Both women were doing a fair amount of yelling and odd little dances trying to get the hot liquid off them.

Theresa regained her composure first and hesitantly reached out for the officer to try and brush some coffee off her uniform top.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" Theresa cried. Officer Clark pulled back from Theresa's touch, as much from reflex than anything else. Theresa withdrew her hand and stood there looking a embarrassed.

Officer Clark finally got the burning to stop and she looked up at the woman whom she had bumped into. Initially all she noticed was the reddened skin of the woman's chest and cleavage and muttered an apology. She too was embarrassed. Then she looked up and noticed it was her traffic stop from the previous day.

"Uh, Mrs...Johnson? I'm so sorry. It was my fault. Are you okay?"

Theresa laughed to try to ease the awkwardness she felt, "I'm a little

hot

right now. How about you?"