Author's Note. This story is the first instalment of a series. As always, voting and commenting are much appreciated. The series is dedicated to A. who's making her first steps into the world of women. Last but not least, I want to thank the girl who did all the editing.
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Last September, I felt it was time for me to start exercising a sport. Due to the fact I was raised in Germany, I'd played football as a kid and unlike most women in my country, I was interested in the sport; not as much as a man but still, I knew what's happening in the world of football. When I had to choose the sport I would be practising, football was a no-brainer. The local team was well organised and they offered me a trial period in which I didn't have to pay any money upfront. Needless to say, I was excited about that new chapter. Playing football became a regular part of my life. We trained thrice a week and during the weekends we played matches, at first some friendlies and then we entered the national women's division.
A WNBA player recently claimed that eighty-percent of the league's players are lesbian and she's facing bullying due to her preference to men. I thought she was hyperbolic and she was exaggerating some random incident she might have faced. When I befriended my teammates though, I had a change of mind. The team consisted of twenty-five women; most of us were either in our twenties or our early-to-mid thirties. Around twenty of those players were at least bi-sexual. I had never witnessed such a gathering of lesbians and truth be told, some of them were smoking hot.
I was included in this list. The first time I thought I would be interested in girls was back in high-school. You get to explore the new world that has opened in front of you and you think of what you find appealing and what you find appalling. Sleeping with a woman sounded good to me but thinking about something to actually making it happen is a whole other thing. I had dated some boys, some relationships went good, others went south and the sole lesbian experience I had was a kiss with my roommate one night we were so drunk that we thought we would end up to a hospital.
Martha was one of the first people I met in the team. We were around the same age, studying at the same university and we lived a block apart so we quickly became friends. Martha was strictly lesbian, she had only slept once with a boy while in high school and since then, all her partners were female. We had talked about it and I had expressed my views so she thought it would be safe for her to introduce me to her girlfriend, Amelia. Amelia was a twenty-eight years old flight attendant and Martha had met her during a flight; she said she had slipped a piece of paper with her phone in Amelia's apron pocket when nobody was looking. After meeting with Amelia, and I guess after her approval, Martha became more revealing about her sex life. Her purpose was not as innocent as it seemed; she didn't want to tell me what she was doing with her girlfriend. She wanted to make my lesbian side resurface. And it worked. Many nights I fingered myself while thinking about sleeping with a woman.
I thought Tinder was a safe option to find a partner; your sexual preferences define you when you register on that application. Soon, I was disappointed. Although I lived in a city with nearly four million people, the available women interested in other women were sparse. I gave up and waited for a miracle. And a miracle came. There was a player who hadn't started the season with us; she was in an Erasmus exchange programme in Hungary and she joined us mid-February. You wouldn't guess she was playing football when you saw her; she was curvy with big breasts. She didn't look the athletic type but she was a hell of a goalkeeper. Her name was Jenny and we were introduced by common friends. She wasn't very warm towards me but that was understandable, the other girls knew each other for years. I fell in love with her but we weren't even friends. And I was such a coward that I wouldn't dare admitting it straight to her face. I made an effort to befriend her but after a month, the results were far from impressive; every time I asked her out for coffee she was busy and even when we did hang out together, we were just part of a bigger group of friends. Martha on the other hand was close with Jenny and she was trying to make me part of their gang. It wasn't satisfying enough though. Every time I saw Jenny, I melted. I wanted her to be mine and even the thought of sleeping together with that gorgeous woman made me wet.
A friend of mine, with whom I was involved back in the day, was insisting that keeping that to myself won't solve my problem. I had to be more active and seek what I wanted. He was right but it was easier said than done. He made considerable efforts to help me understand how hunting a woman worked and he claimed that failure is part of the game. At least I had to play against my chances and let the catastrophe hit me in the face. The first move was to spit it out to Martha. She was surprised by my admission but not by the fact I was in love with Jenny; her green eyes, her dark blonde hair and her bright smile were more than enough reason to like this girl. Her advice was to put my interest on hold; Jenny had an on and off relationship with a man and she wasn't really single.
Summer came and still no good news. Jenny hadn't dumped the idiot yet; my advisor was urging me to either go on a faster pace or look elsewhere and I was spending the hot nights of summer drinking with friends and fantasising what sleeping with Jenny might be like. Jenny went on holidays abroad and we lost touch but all of a sudden, Martha informed me in the last days of July that Jenny broke up for good. I got a morale boost and promised myself that this time, I would hunt her down until I make made her mine. Martha offered me her help, after Jenny had gotten over splitting with her boyfriend she was promoting me to her. We knew that Jenny was interested in girls too but Martha wasn't certain that she was ready for the big step; on the other hand, I was as ready as ever.
Jenny spent the weekend with her grandparents in her hometown and the rest of the people had gone out for a night of drinking. I made a move to leave when I felt I had drunk enough but Martha stopped me; "You're driving me home, I have to talk to you," she explained and despite the drinks I had consumed, I felt fresh again hoping she had news about the hot matter.
"What's the matter?" I asked her as we walked to the car.
"I'll explain. In private though," Martha assured me and we stayed silent until we were in the car, "I'm afraid I have some good news and some bad news."
"How's that?"
"Jenny spent two nights at my place as she was doing some renovating. We talked about what's troubling you."
"And?" I said with anticipation growing inside me.
"Jenny likes you and she thinks you're a nice person and potentially, a lover."
"I sense there is a but."
"There is. Thing is, you can't be together with Jenny."
"Why not?"
"Do you know the reason Jenny broke up with her boyfriend?"
"Not a clue."
"They had been together for two years. Since Jenny graduated high school. And he was one of a kind. A special person who treated Jenny superbly."
"Then why did they break up?"
"Let me put it this way. Jenny doesn't like vanilla ice cream."
"You mean she's kinky?"
"Exactly."
"And that's the reason they broke up?"
"Mark was dominant. And Jenny is dominant as well. They tried to make it work but not only were they not a match in that aspect but Jenny wanted to explore her lesbian side more."
