My husband's curiosity about my early sex life was getting the better of him. Marriage is enough of a challenge and maintaining a satisfying sex life is particularly difficult. Like most men, Ben wanted to hear about my Sapphic adventures. But, I only told him little snippets and kept the rest under wraps.
Ben's favorite was about my first time with a girl and he would listen with rapt attention. I never told him the entire story but I always started by telling him where I grew up and... My parents lived in an exclusive community in southern Florida. While they weren't Donald Trump wealthy, they lived very comfortably. I attended private school and college. I routinely got excellent grades and was pretty much a straight arrow thru high school.
While I was well aware of the "extra curricular" activities in high school, I never indulged in drugs or smoking pot. My boyfriend took my virginity in senior year and, thanks to "the pill", I screwed him whenever I could. I liked it that much.
Things in the Sapphic sense got underway in college.
My roommate in freshman year was a party animal and frequently came in drunk or stoned. Several times when Fran was in that state she tried to get into bed with me. But, she wasn't very attractive, at least to me, and I would push her onto the floor. Fran had an abrasive personality and few friends. Thankfully, she failed every subject and dropped out before the end of freshman year.
I was bi curious but I wanted my first experience to be with someone I thought was attractive and appealing. Late in freshman year, my friend Shauna invited me to a party at her sorority. Although I felt out of place, Shauna was always hovering around me and chattering away. She kept handing me cups of the special "punch" and I was pleasantly drunk when the party wound down. Shauna suggested I stay with her until I felt more sober.
Shauna was a pretty and willowy blonde, similar to Gwyneth Paltrow. While not as flat as a board, she was close. As I lay on top of her bed, she sat next to me and stroked my hair with her fingers. It felt nice so I let her keep going. She leaned in and kissed me and I kissed her back. We started kissing in earnest and her hands roamed my body.
Unfortunately, the alcohol didn't agree with my stomach and I barfed all over Shauna's bedspread. She practically threw me out of her room. My first bi experience was a bust and I never considered it a "first" experience.
Not much happened until my sophomore year. My new roommate was a foreign exchange student from France. From the start I thought there would be a communication problem and after my experience with Fran, I wanted someone "normal". I was arranging some books on my desk when I heard someone in the doorway.
"Hello" a voice said in a charming accent.
I turned around and looked at a vision, a vision of beauty. With mouth agape, I just stared at the vision.
"Are you Ceendy?" the vision asked me. I came out of my stupor long enough to reply.
"Yes, yes, I'm Cindy."
"I am Claire, from France" the vision had a name and a country of origin.
I loved how Claire said France, it was more like Fronce. Any concerns I had about a communication problem vanished.
I helped Claire get her stuff moved in and let her have the choice of beds. She graciously refused the window but I insisted. As she unpacked we talked and I found that I adored her accent. Claire was very pretty, and slim in a European way. I think a better word is sleek. She had sparkling green eyes and long brown hair that cascaded down her back.
After Claire had organized her belongings, she told me she was "ongry". She wanted to try something American. With Claire in tow, I took her into town to a burger joint. A lot of male heads and a few female ones turned to look when she walked in. Claire was inexperienced with greasy American food of this caliber but she enjoyed every bite.
It was late when we got back to our room. Claire thought nothing of undressing in front of me and to her it was as natural as having wine for dinner. I looked at her body and realized she was one of the sexiest women I ever laid eyes on. My self image was going to suffer mightily with her around, but I didn't care.
As we settled into the college routine, we spent a lot of time together. I had two classes with Claire and she always asked for language interpretations relating to various words or phrases. I had French in high school and as much as I wanted to speak French, Claire wanted to practice English. When she spoke English with her French accent, it had a musical quality. However, she was eternally patient when I butchered the French language.
As the semester wore on, we really got to know each other. I learned Claire was from the outskirts of Paris. Her mother was deceased and her father was an engineer for the S.N.C.F. That's railroad in English. She had done some modeling but really wanted to be a school teacher. God knows she had the right personality for teaching.
Just watching Claire was a treat for me. She had a sensual way about her. Her body language, the way she applied her make up, how she drank coffee or ate dinner, how she spoke and the mannerisms she used were all a part of it. She had a gracefulness that was utterly charming, yet foreign to me.
Claire's complexion was flawless. Her cosmetics bag was filled to overflowing but she never looked like she was wearing any. Her face had a very natural look. She generously shared her cosmetics and secrets with me. Sometimes, she would apply the cosmetics herself and the touch from her hand sent shivers down my spine.
With courage, Claire tried all things that are considered American. American or western culture is pervasive in Europe so there were no big surprises. Her favorite was watching movies without dubbing or sub titles. The use of colloquial language was challenging for her and I did my best to interpret the meaning.
"What does word fook mean?" she asked inquisitively.
At first I had no idea what Claire was asking me. But when I caught on, I laughed out loud. Claire looked perplexed. I remembered my high school French teacher telling the class that merde or shit was commonly used as slang in French. When I conveyed that analogy, she understood right away.
It was the small everyday or idiosyncratic differences between the cultures that fascinated Claire. My daily showers intrigued her and with naïve sincerity she asked me if I felt dirty every morning. By mid semester I did notice she was shaving her underarms and legs.
In her gracious way, Claire told me she missed drinking wine with dinner and having a bidet in the bathroom.
Without condemnation, she remarked that Americans ate their meals too quickly and with too much quantity. How in France meals were considered an important part of daily life and were meant to be leisurely and enjoyable.
With Claire it was as though France had sent us her very best.
Most of the men on campus seemed to be intimidated by her serene self assurance. . She dated a few guys but not for long.
Just before Thanksgiving break, I came down with the flu. We spent the Thanksgiving holiday in the dorm and Claire was like a mother hen. She made soup on the hot plate and bought bread and muffins at the corner grocery. When I was feeling my worst, she would sit next to me and gently towel my face with a wet cloth. I loved the caring attention she showed me.
As the holidays approached, I insisted that Claire come home with me. I knew she didn't have much money and my father paid for her airfare. My father refused me little in life but for this I was eternally grateful. I asked that he treat this as an early Christmas present to me.
When Claire saw my home in Florida, she was shocked that only three people lived in such a huge house. My bedroom was more like a suite with multiple closets and an oversized bathroom.
With Christmas only a few days away, Claire was adamant about buying gifts for me and my family. We drove to Miami and she was enthralled by the shops and stores. Although I never left her side, she accumulated several shopping bags without my knowledge.
Christmas Eve my mother had a catered celebration and many of my relatives were present. They loved Claire, especially my male cousins. Charmed by her beauty and accent, they all wanted to date her.
