📚 waiting-is-the-hardest Part 2 of 1
Part 2
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Waiting Is The Hardest Part 2

Waiting Is The Hardest Part 2

by denisesweety
10 min read
4.3 (9000 views)
adultfiction

The following story is based on actual events in my life. Everyone is 18 years old or older. Please send comments as I want to become a better author.

*****

Like many who post stories on here, I knew I was different, long before I knew why.

When the other girls started to go boy crazy, I felt as if I missed the class that day about romance with the opposite sex. I laughed and "ooohed and ahhhed" about boys with the other girls, but I didn't feel it. I went on dates but never understood what the big deal was.

I was a good girl. Making out was OK (including tongue), but no touching the boobs or my private parts and certainly no touching his private parts.

I was so confused, but I decided to approach the problem like a school assignment. I went to the biggest library downtown and found the area that I thought would explain what was wrong with me.

I saw a book on human sexuality. I began to thumb through it. It really didn't help much until I came to a section on homosexuality. Most of the chapter was about male homosexuality (ho-hum) but then it had a smaller section on lesbianism.

It noted that some women were attracted to other women. They noticed the attractiveness of women and felt nothing when the handsome guy with the six-pack walked by. Then it got into a lot of crap about dressing like a man, and hating men.

It got me thinking. I did tend to notice girls and not even see boys. I did linger in the shower at gym class. I rationalized that as just comparing my body to others, but then I remembered the tingle I felt watching the other girls. I used to go to the girls' volleyball games and didn't really understand why I enjoyed it, but I realized how much I remembered them short shorts of the players. It was circumstantial evidence that I might be a lesbian.

The real awakening came in bed at night. I had figured out masturbation, but it was never more than nice. I tried thinking about boys and I came but I didn't understand why some of my friends thought it was a big deal. I tried it by thinking of the girls in the shower and suddenly I understood.

This overlong set up brings me to the point of the story; I was in my senior year. 18 years old. I was 5' 6", 125 pounds, 34C, and shoulder length black hair. My face was OK but not as good as my figure.

So, there I was: a probable lesbian with no options.

Then one day, I dropped a book and when I bent down to get it, I saw a butt that brought back that tingle. It belonged to a girl I will call Debbie, who was one of the volleyball players. I thought the rest of her was as exciting as her butt. She wasn't a prima donna and seemed nice.

Now the following statement sounds terrible but remember I was a naive high schooler. I figured there was a good chance a girl athlete would have lesbian tendencies, so I made Deb my objective.

I got an early opening when we had to partner on a science project. I made a bee line to Debbie and asked her to be my partner and she accepted. The project was successful, and I found out she was a nice person and fun to be with.

I began showing up for all her athletic events and even gave her rides home. I was dying to kiss her goodnight every time we parted but if I was wrong, I thought I would be branded as a dyke throughout the school.

Our senior year was entering the second and last semester. I was still too chicken to make a move. Finally, I asked her to stay a weekend at my house. It was now or never. My widowed Dad had a girlfriend and would stay all night with her, so we would have the house to ourselves.

I picked her up in my car and brought her home, I gave her a big hug when she got in the house, and she joined in. I wanted to kiss her then but chickened out.

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We were watching television sitting on the couch when I took a mini-gamble and put my head on her shoulder. She smiled but did nothing pro or con. After a while I sat up and shaking horribly and my head still close, I brushed back her hair and she turned toward me.

I gave her a peck on the lips, and my head snapped back waiting for the reaction.

She did...nothing. Just kept watching TV.

So, I did...nothing.

Then it came time for bed. My room had two twin beds from when my sister lived there.

The lights went out. We were lying there. And then...

"What was the deal with the kiss?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yeah."

I decided to back up the dump truck and hit the level to let it all come out. And it came out like an auctioneer.

"I really like you as a person and a friend, but I am really, really attracted to you like not just in a friend way and I have been holding off telling you because I didn't want to lose you as a friend so I think I might be a lesbian and I might be in love with you."

Then I held my breath...and she turned over in bed as if show was going to sleep. My heart was still racing.

Maybe five minutes later, I hear "Are you still awake?"

"Yeah."

"Why do you think you're a lesbian?"

I took a breath and went through the revelations at the beginning of the story.

"OK." Then again, turning over in bed.

Another five minutes, then "You still awake?"

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"Uh-huh."

"What exactly would we do if I felt the same way?"

"Well you would come over here to my bed and we would make out and do everything I know (which wasn't much)."

I heard her bed creak and felt her climbing into my bed. And the make out session began. I put my hand on her right breast and we kept making out.

I pulled my top off and she was on my boobs immediately. She continued to suck my nipples, but she fought me getting her top off. She said she was embarrassed by her small tits. I said I wanted all of her and the shirt came off followed by the bra. They were smaller than mine, but I thought they were beautiful and told her so.

We were so exhausted playing with our boobs that we fell asleep.

The next morning, she confessed she had the same feelings but though she was just odd. I told her she had me and there were probably some more of us out there. She asked if we were girlfriends. I said yes and she said she felt the same way.

The next night, the shorts came off. We knew nothing about oral sex, but we had both masturbated, so we knew how to use our fingers. I was so wet her finger created a slurping sound when she entered me. We eventually found our clits and I had my first orgasm by someone else's hand. It was so sloppy, I thought I peed on the bed. She was wet but not like I was but I was determined to make her come. I felt so wonderful when I heard her scream with pleasure.

Sunday morning, we discussed our plan for going forward. We agreed to be exclusive. We agreed on no public displays of affection. We could openly be friends. We would not tell anyone without approval from both of us. And if one day, one of us woke up and stopped believing in the relationship or being a lesbian, the other would accept it, as painful as it might be.

Her divorced Mom caught us in the throes of lovemaking at her house. She stood by the door for a while and then told us it was OK with her as long as we were quieter.

Later we called a gay hotline (no internet then) and was directed to materials on women making love. We discovered oral sex and for a couple of weeks our jaws were sore.

When we discovered toys, we had to beg her mon to buy us a dildo and, we hoped, a strapon. She agreed to the dildo but not the strapon. With dildo in hand, we had to face a decision on losing our "technical" virginity or to put it more bluntly, busting through our hymens. Because it was in the 1970s, this was a big deal. We finally decided to do it.

Debbie decided I would lose mine first. She had become the sexually dominate one, but fortunately, retained her femininity. We were at my house, read our manual, put a towel under me and began the process. We didn't have access to lube other than petroleum jelly (no brand names please) and she began to work the dildo in. I was not really wet enough, so it hurt like hell. She pulled it out, put more jelly on it and tried again. It still hurt but I decided to tough it out. Debbie instinctively started to move the dildo in a shallow in and out and asked if I was ready. I said yes, and she rammed it in like a charging rhino. I screamed and started crying, then Debbie started crying to because she had hurt me.

I told her the pain subsided and to keep trying. She was frightened but slowly started moving the dildo in and out. It started to feel better and better and I suddenly discovered what the big deal was about penetration. It felt good, but I didn't come. We held each other for a while, then Debbie sighed and said hesitantly it was her turn.

We were shocked to see some blood on the towel and on the dildo, which scared Debbie even more. I went to rinse it off and got another towel.

She was so tight because of her fear; I began to gently finger her to get her wet. It dawned on me that's what we should have done in the first place. I put the jelly on the dildo and during fingering, I began to slide and in and out shallowly, like Debbie did to me. I asked her if she were ready. Debbie nodded. Remembering what I experienced, I did a little bit of constant pressure and heard her scream. I comforted her for a while, then began the in and out. Debbie began to find out what I found out and we had a new way of making love. (FYI: Debbie's mom bought us a strapon for graduation and a new era was born.)

We made a bold decision our last month of the semester to acknowledge the relationship if anybody asked. Instead of being shunned we were invited to parties and sleepovers. Sometimes we were there as a freak show and we quickly left. Most of the time we were just accepted or asked sincere questions.

The pain came at the end of summer. We were going to different colleges. I had to go to the big state school because of the specialty program they offered. She wanted a smaller college. After trying a long-distance relationship for a semester, we realized it wasn't going to work. I cried almost every day the second semester.

We tried to keep in touch, but you know how those things go.

A mutual friend told me several years later she had married a man and had three kids. I wasn't hurt. I was happy for her. I had a mixed future ahead of me, but I was sure it was to be as a lesbian. However, things happen, which is another story.

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