Jeez, I can't be stopped… Here it is, Thursday, the first day of senior year, first period, and I'm already staring down my lab partner's shirt. In my defense, she has amazing breasts, and she's not exactly hiding them. "Wanna go out sometime?" I ask, hopeful, and attempting to be as suave as I can. She gives me a disgusted look, and before I know it, the back of her hand strikes me across the face. God, that stings.
"I'm not a dyke!”
I always forget the fact that most girls don't like chicks. Honestly, why does it bother them so much when they get hit on? People just need to learn how to take a compliment when they get one. I sigh. Oh well, it was worth a shot. The bell rings and I grab my bag and head for my next class, British Lit. I like English, but the teachers vary a lot. Could be an evil bitch, could be the coolest old chick ever. I pick the seat farthest from the teacher's desk and put my head down, sulking from my earlier rejection. One is truly the loneliest number…
I watch as my fellow classmates file in, a few people I know, but no one sits next to me. A few guys cast knowing, insecure glances my way, and some girls look worried. I'm basically the class leper. It's not that I'm ugly or anything; I know I'm not. In fact, I get hit on pretty frequently at work. It's just that people can't get over the fact that I like chicks. So what if I'm a dyke? It's not like it's any of their concern.
The late bell rings and the teacher walks in. Hooray, it's an old fart of a woman. Stereotypical English teacher #1… Bet she's strict as hell, too. She introduces herself and makes all of us do the same. Everyone stands and says a few things about their boring lives. I'm rather fed up by the monotony of it. Soon enough, it's my turn. I stand, "My name's Carmela Maggio. I like chicks, if that bothers you, you can go do the world a favor and die." The teacher's horrified, and I'm about to get written up when this girl walks in late.
She catches my eye from the moment she walks in, and instantly I feel like I have my second potential lay for the day. At the same time, though, I wanna laugh. She's all flustered, and I can tell she's new to the school. She trips on her way to the only seat left in the room, the one by me. Great, I've got the klutz next to me. At least she's hot.
Everyone laughs at her clumsiness, and her face is beet red. I kinda feel bad for the girl. She's all alone in a new place, and people are laughing at her. The teacher shuts them up and calls the girl to the front of the class. "Name?" she asks sternly.
"Um… it's Liina Nash," the girl speaks up, nervous and shy.
"Goodness, what a name," the teacher says, handing her a detention slip, "Don't come late to my class again or it'll be a write up."
Yep, strict as hell. Liina takes her seat next to me, looking like she's about to burst into tears. She is still ridiculously hot, though. She's got long, light blonde hair and these piercing blue eyes…
"Carmela?" I look up as the teacher calls me.
"Just because you are going to fail doesn't mean you're not going to pay attention." Great, she assumes I'm an idiot right off the bat. I'll enjoy rubbing an A in her face later…
I return my attention back to Liina, running my eyes over her. She's got nice, perky tits, covered up by a white button-up shirt. She's gotta be a solid C cup... Nice ass on her too… She has proportionally long legs, guiding eyes up to the hem of her skirt and parts beyond. It's funny, she looks like some private school girl, all dressed up in a button-up and that blue plaid skirt. That skirt could sure make your mind wander, but somehow she seems… innocent and pure, something even I don't know if I can corrupt.
She turns to me and gives me a warm smile, not knowing the things I have her doing in my head. That smile... God, what a woman. I don't care if she's straight, I gotta get her in my bed. I sit in class stealing glances at the beauty queen next to me. I'm committing her face and body to memory, and I'm not the only one. A quick look around tells me all the guys are noticing her too. I have to get on this girl (pun SO intended) before anyone else can snatch her away.
I turn away for a few moments to scribble down some pointless formatting details (really, fuck MLA) and turn back to see her toss a note under my desk. I excitedly sneak the note onto my desk and unfold it. 'Why is everyone staring at me?' it reads. Um, because you're fucking gorgeous! I wanna write that with all my heart, but my judgment tells me that's a terrible idea.
'They're not used to someone dressing the way you do,' I scribble down before handing the note back to her. She writes something and hands it back.
'Huh. I've always dressed this way... I think it looks cute, don't you?' I sigh internally. God, does it look cute.
'Looks great.' I hand it back to her and she reads. Then she looks over to me with a reassured smile. Her pen moves once more and she again hands the note to me.
'Well, at least you think so.'
Wh-? What does she mean by that? I wanna take it as flirting, but I know that's probably not the case. I don't write back and try to focus as the teacher goes over classroom objectives and rules. God, this is so boring. I look over at Liina and accidentally meet her gaze. I turn back sharply, embarrassed to be caught looking at her. Wonder what she think of me for staring at her like the others.
As soon as the lunch bell rings, I ask her what her next class is. We both have the same class, Accelerated Math III next. I inform her of this and offer to show her the lunch room. We sit together at lunch and chat. Really, we're becoming fast friends, and I couldn't be happier to have the opportunity to get closer to this goddess. Lunch ends far too quickly for my tastes. Well, on to math… I walk her to the room and take a seat beside her.
It's odd; she's not my type personality wise. I usually am into the slutty girls you always have a chance getting in bed with. Honestly, I've lain around a lot, which is one of the reasons I don't go after the innocent type. I bet she's still a virgin. I mean, I've popped a few cherries, but usually they were still pretty slutty. More often than not, they'd sucked their way through freshman and sophomore year and wanted to see what a girl could do. I never disappoint.
Math is unsatisfying and boring, but glaces over at Liina make it pass by much faster. I'm rather interested in what she'll do for our next class which we also have together - health. I never took health my freshman year, and I always wondered when it was going to catch up with me and bite me in the ass. Again, I sit next to her, talking about frivolous things and trying tp flirt without raising her alarm. She doesn't seem to mind and just seems genuinely happy that someone wants to talk to her. Then, the teacher comes in. Great, a male teacher. This isn't going to be awkward at all.
He starts talking about the curriculum, giving us the gist of what we'll be discussing. Finally he gets to my favorite subject, sex. Of course, they don't teach what we really want or need to know about. It's Georgia, an abstinence-only state. They won't teach us the inter-mechanics. It's abstinence, mention of gay people, then STDs for the rest of the subject. I know people who think it's illegal for minors to buy condoms because of the bullshit abstinence only policy.
I take a breather and relax myself from a brewing internal rant. I look next to me and Liina's blushing like crazy. She's really much too innocent. He briefly mentions homosexuality, and Liina raises her hand. What's this about now…?
"Yes?" the teacher calls on her.
"Excuse me, but what exactly is homosexuality?" …Seriously? She sees the incredulous looks at her and immediately clarifies, “It's just, I've never heard anything about it other than it's sinful. I want to know what it is in context.”
"It's when women are attracted to other women, or men are attracted to other men."
She gets this troubled look on her face for some reason. "Is that normal?"
"Honestly, I wouldn't be the person to ask about that. However, if anything I've heard about your little friend there is true, you can ask her."
She looks at me, blushing, but then just stares down at her book. Shit. I didn't hope to be outed until we were at least closer or until I could tell which way the flirting was going. I hope that I haven't lost her yet.
When the bell to leave for the day rings, she stops me. "U-um…. Carmela?"
"Do you mind if I call you later to talk about this homosexuality thing?”
I look at her questioningly, and she seems earnest. “Alright.”
We exchange phone numbers, and I put her in my contacts. She does the same, and I notice her phone is top of the line. I wonder what her parents must be like, buying her an expensive phone like that... Not that I'm judging or anything, it's just... Come on, that's just a way to flaunt money. Life isn't fair. I love my phone, and it's a good phone, and I worked my ass off to get it!
“Just so you know, I have work at 4 until 11. Can you call afterwords?”
She nods. “Where is it that you work?”
I must have not mentioned that. “Oh, I work at Starbucks. It's kinda menial, I know, but I actually like working there.” We stand and chat for a few short moments, but I'm cutting it a bit close, and I gotta get to work. We go our separate ways for the day. I get in my car - a 2006 Ford Fiesta that I bought myself, and crank up the A/C. Summers are just so hot... The radio automatically turns on, blaring my favorite hit station. School was certainly interesting today, and I can't help but hope I'll learn something from the phone call later.
On my drive to work, thoughts of Liina cross my mind. She's a beautiful woman, no doubt. The most beautiful, natural looking woman I've ever seen. Most of the time I have no trouble clearing my head from the hot chick of the day, but she's... special in a way I've yet to decide. It could be her looks, her innocence, her smile... I just don't know yet, but I'm starting to think she may be one of my rare actual crushes and not just some chick I wanna get in my bed. She seems like a genuinely sweet girl.
Upon reaching work, I change into my black dress pants and shirt before putting on the mildly humiliating apron. I tie up my medium length hair, letting my bangs fall before putting on my visor. I always get looks and giggles from people from my school when they come in. Yes, come laugh at the dyke in her uniform. At least I have a job. I clock in and head to the counter, feeling a familiar icy glare on the back of my head. I turn around, and say without missing a beat, “How you doin', Aesha?”
She rolls her dark brown eyes in an attempt to disguise her anger and returns to her work. She started working here about six months after me, and it took me maybe a day or two to get her in bed. At times, I feel sorry for her. She thought I wanted a relationship when I took her to my bed, but in reality, I just needed a lay. The realization was not a pleasant one for her, and she's been pissed at me ever since.
I glance over at her, remembering the night we'd spent together. She wasn't a bad fuck or anything, she just showed up at a bad time. Even now, I look at her with predatory eyes. I can't help but picture her naked underneath me, writhing around. Her body certainly doesn't help me keep my thoughts on track. I remember how her ass and modest bust felt in my hands, not to mention how her cocoa skin glistened with sweat as she came again and again. Despite all of this, though, she's just another notch on the bedpost for me.
I start to focus on work, smiling at the customers and mixing drinks. It's really a nice place to work; I get decent pay, and it's got a nice atmosphere. Plus, they don't care that I'm gay. You also don't get too much shit from the customers unless you don't give them fucking whipped cream when they want it. Or vice versa... I spend the vast majority of the evening while I work thinking about the phone call I'll be getting from Liina. What could she want to know? What does she want to say?
It's been a long time since any one girl has taken up so many of my thoughts. I have a good feeling about her. I clean up the store for the night, clock out, and start my drive home. During my drive, the phone rings. “Hello?” The answer is a whisper.
“Hey, it's Liina.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“My parents would get mad at me if they knew I was awake.”
I chuckle a little. “Past your bed time?” There's silence on the other end for a minute.
“Oh... Sorry.” I guess some people do that in their kid's senior year? “What did you want to talk about?” I ask, almost desperate to change the subject.
“Well... I just wanted to know if what Mr. Johnson said was true. I mean... Are you gay?”
I'm not a liar by nature, and, despite having lost countless friends through that same question, I answer honestly. “Yeah. I like other women.”
She stays quiet for several moments. “Is that normal?”
“Well, what do you mean by normal? I mean, most people don't call it normal, but I was born like this, so it's been normal for me my entire life.”
During my conversation, I arrive at home, a small two bedroom trailer that I've been paying for since I was fifteen.
“I see... I've never met anyone who was gay, or at least not openly so. Is that why people don't sit by you?”
“Usually. I mean, men consider me a threat and women automatically think I'm interested in them personally, so there's not much I can do about it. If they want to let it bother them, then it can bother them.”
“Do your parents know about you?”
I enter the house, walking by my very drunk mother, passed out on the couch.
“My mom, and yeah, she knows. It doesn't seem to bother her. She has bigger things on her mind. Hold on a sec.” I set the phone down on the kitchen counter and get a glass of cold water. I walk back over to my mom and pour about half of it on her face. She sputters and wakes up, sitting up.
“What the fuck?”
“Wake the hell up and get in your bed if you wanna sleep.” She's pissed at me, but she goes silently to her bed, probably thinking that it's too troublesome to fight me.
I pick up the various bottles in the living room and wonder how she pays for all this shit without a job. I stopped giving her money ages ago. I toss the empty bottles in the trash and pick back up the phone. “Sorry about that. Had to tidy up the living room.”
“Can I ask you something, Liina?”
“Why are you asking about this?"
“Well, all I've ever heard about homosexuality has been form my parents or from church, and I'll I've ever heard was how wrong it is... But... I just... Can I tell you something?”
“I've been scared for a long time that I might be... that way. I mean, I've never liked a boy in my whole life. I have liked girls, but I didn't realize it was wrong. I don't know what to do, though. My family would disown me if they found out I might be gay.”
People always feel comfortable coming out to me, I guess because I'm so open about my sexuality. I suppose I should feel honored to be considered a role model or whatever.
“If you don't feel comfortable telling them, Liina, then don't yet. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't be happy. You should explore your sexuality and be sure and confident in what you are.”
“B-but, I'm not really sexual at all...”
Well there's a fuckin' surprise. “Honestly, you should get to know yourself sexually. The only one who knows what's best for you is you.” I can't lie, the thought of her following my advice and exploring herself sexually is starting to turn me on. Plus, maybe that'll mean some friendly experimentation.
“Yeah,” she says softly, “Maybe I really am that way.”
“Think about it tonight, okay? If it's right, you'll know.”
“Okay...” The poor girl sounds near tears, but I have something I need to take care of now. Like, right now.
“Good night, Liina. We can talk more tomorrow.”
“Thank you for talking to me.”
“It's no trouble.”
I hang up the phone and sigh. God, I hope she is gay. That body just... It's too perfect to waste on some guy that won't worship her in the way she deserves. My body is aching for an orgasm tonight.
I grab a not so empty bottle of scotch and take a large swig of the burning liquor. The warmth spreads through me like fire. I suppose you could call me a hypocrite or something, but my life is so ridiculously stressful. I mean, Mom drinks to wash away the sadness of a day where she's done nothing. I drink to relax after school and work and before sex. I take a few more drinks from the bottle, big ones, and feel my head going fuzzy. This is the feeling I want.
I pull my bedroom door open to a familiar scent of frequent sex, books, and vanilla incense. Honestly, my room smells even more intoxicating than the booze. In my head, fantasies of undressing Liina play through. I strip myself until I'm just in my panties and lay down on my bed, hand between my legs. I imagine Liina's slender body, her shapely breasts, her feminine hips...
My fingers travel up and down my slit as my thoughts continue to kissing and sucking at her breasts. I start to feel wetness on my fingers, and I rub myself faster. My thoughts run wild with Liina's innocent face and virginal body. What sort of things could I make her do? What faces could she make? What noises would spill from her mouth without control? My thoughts travel to what I imagine her pussy looks like. I bet it's just as perfect and fresh as the rest of her seems to be...
The end seems to be in sight for me and, with thoughts of her tongue laving at me, I reach my peak, moaning to myself in very intense pleasure. God, that orgasm will go down in memory. I try to sit up, only to find my limbs shaky. I laugh in spite of myself. My orgasms are usually short and shallow. I can only remember one other woman who left me a shaking mess.
I shake my head to clear it and turn over onto my stomach. I peel off my sticky, wet panties and toss them into my dirty laundry. What a woman. I absentmindedly sit up and reach over to my bedside table and grab the pack of cigarettes that lay there. I pull one out and light it, taking a deep drag on it. God, I have too many addictions for a teenager.
My mind returns to Liina. I wonder where her tastes lie. I look down at my body. I'm pretty average, well, below average when it comes to bust size. Not that big tits are better or anything. In fact, I tend to prefer a small chest. It just seems to me that most thin people can pull off a small chest, but few women can actually make a big chest look really attractive. But that's just me. Also, my hips are there, but they're nothing to go on about. Nothing special. I notice the ash on my cig growing and decide that, while I'm sitting here thinking instead of enjoying it, I might as well put the damn thing out. I smother the tip in my ashtray.
I do have some features going for me, though. I'm tall, I have a nice Italian tan, and I'm thin. Every year, I hear it from my doctor. 'You need to put on weight, blah, blah, It's not good for you.' It's not like I don't eat. I eat a lot, and I'm starting to believe I was just meant to be thin. Certainly not a bad thing when it comes to looks. Even in addition to my weight and height, I've been told that my face is very pleasant to look at.
And I always get comments about my hair. My hair is black, has been since birth. I don't mean that fake blue-black looking shit either. It's really just a very, very dark brown that I call black 'cause it's pretty damn close. I credit my Italian and Cherokee genes for my hair. I wonder if she'll like it. It's not particularly long; it really only goes to my shoulders. I actually get comments about the style as well... People seem to think I should have a men's haircut.
Tsk. Men always get the wrong idea. Well, not just men. Everyone's got this stereotypical lesbian in their head and I like to flip that perception around. Yes, I'm a slender, feminine-looking, dominant lesbian with bangs and girly hair. Maybe it's not that long, but it's obviously feminine. People can look however they want, seriously, who gives a shit? I sigh. I hope Liina will be interested, though. It's been a long time since someone caught my interest like this.
I look over at the clock and realize it's approaching one in the morning. God, I have five hours left to sleep for school and work tomorrow... I lay back into my bed, set my phone alarm, and try to relax. It doesn't take long for alcohol, orgasm, and dreams of a more pleasant life overtake me in sleep. Tomorrow should be interesting, to say the least.