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Authors: Shelly Bell

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BOOK: A Year to Remember
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“Was it good for you?”

“I didn’t come.” That should have been obvious to him.

“Most women don’t come during sex. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed!” Sexually unsatisfied perhaps, but definitely not ashamed.

“You know there are other ways to give a girl an orgasm,” I hinted.

He instantly appeared uncomfortable. “I’m not really into the whole oral sex thing.”

“Me, you, or both?” I asked, suddenly dismayed about my prospects in receiving an orgasm tonight.

“Well obviously I wouldn’t turn down a blowjob. I mean, what guy wouldn’t want a girl to take him into her mouth?”

At least he didn’t seem uncomfortable talking about it with me. That was a good sign, right?

“But you won’t go down on a woman?”

He shuddered in disgust. “No.”

“Can I ask why not?”

He didn’t seem to want to answer my question as he sat up and turned away from me.

“I’ve done it a few times throughout the years. Every time I hoped I’d enjoy it, but no matter what, I found it unappealing. You know ... the whole smell and taste thing.”

“I don’t smell!”

“I’m sure you don’t, Sara. Maybe someday I’ll change my mind. Right now, I’m not into it.”

“If I can’t come from sex and you won’t go down on me, how am I supposed to have an orgasm?”

“It’s not important that you had an orgasm. The important thing is we shared intimacy. We connected, and it was beautiful. I love you, Sara.”

All my anger disappeared. He loved me! If he loved me, a short engagement would soon follow, leading to marriage before thirty. After all, he knew we were on a strict timeline!

“I love you, too.”

I didn’t love him, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by not saying it back to him. I had only known him for such a short time and I’ve been dating other men, so how could I be in love with him? Now that we’re officially a couple, I was certain I’d fall in love with him.

After all, Caleb had all the qualities I sought in a husband. He exuded warmth and intelligence. So, he lacked sexual prowess in the sack. We could work on the problems in the bedroom.

Caleb and I shared goals. We both wanted to get married and start a family. We had grown up watching our parents’ relationships persevere through the hard times, not succumbing to adultery or divorce as many of our friends’ parents had. We both declared ourselves as moderate democrats, socially liberal, but economically conservative.

The sticking point could be the difference in our religions. Caleb had been brought up Catholic, but no longer associated himself with the church. In fact, he had said he hadn’t been to church since he moved out of his parents’ house more than ten years ago. I, on the other hand, considered myself to be a practicing Jew. While I didn’t currently spend my money to belong to a synagogue, I attended on the High Holidays like Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur with my folks.

When I had hinted to Caleb about the potential for problems in our religions, he had always pointed out since I was more religious, my beliefs would prevail. As much as I loved someone, I couldn’t marry them if they denied me the right to raise my children Jewish. Besides, Jewish law states the children take the religion of the mother over the father. Our children would be born and raised Jewish.

Considering he had only said “I love you” and hadn’t proposed marriage, our religions hardly seemed relevant at this point in our relationship. If or when we got engaged, we would have to have a deeper conversation about our religious convictions as it pertains to our children.

Now, I just wanted to bask in the afterglow of those glorious words.

I love you.

Three little words with big meaning. They could change my world forever.

The rest of the night, Caleb and I cuddled in bed hugging and kissing. Luckily, he didn’t seem to want to have sex again. I needed to get some advice about how to approach him about what I needed in the lovemaking department.

I knew just the girls to ask.

CHAPTER 18
 

MAY 24, 2012

DETROIT, MICHIGAN

 

WEIGHT: 183

STATUS: COMMITTED

 

Once a month, I met with Missy and a few of her lesbian friends to play Drag Queen Bingo. The gift shop/coffee house was located in a city known for its acceptance of alternative lifestyles. Missy and I had discovered it a couple years ago one night, when we stumbled into the store to get out of the rain. A drag queen stood in front of the room holding a large microphone, while men and women sat at small tables with their smoothies and bingo cards.

Part comedian, the drag queen introduced herself as Martha and asked if we liked to be on the bottom or the top. My jaw hit the floor, but Missy had a quick tongue and told Martha she preferred to be in the middle. Martha invited us to sit and join the game. We’d been coming ever since, first just Missy and me, and then her lesbian friends Ashley, Caitlin, and Nina joined our monthly ritual.

It had taken me a while before I became friends with the girls. They had a secret way of dealing with each other which made me feel like I’d never be part of their inner circle. Like I had as a child, I felt like I was on the outside looking in. Finally, I told them how I felt. I worried they’d be insulted or they’d admit they didn’t like me. Instead, they told me they hadn’t intended to make me feel like I didn’t belong. They just didn’t know if I’d be offended with their frank and explicit dialogues about sex. Once I told them they wouldn’t affront my delicate sensibilities, they started to include me in on their secret conversations.

All of them were practicing lesbians. Extremely practicing. They told me about things that I believed only occurred in porn videos.

Pink-haired Nina actually classified herself as bisexual, although the majority of her relationships were with women. She liked to participate in an occasional threesome.

Ashley had dabbled as a professional escort as a way to put herself through college. As soon as she earned her degree in accounting, she terminated her career as an escort and became an accountant, no longer having sex with men. With her porcelain skin and long auburn hair, she could have been a supermodel.

I never understood how she could have sex with someone she wasn’t attracted to, but she swore attraction had nothing to do with sex. I almost threw up once when an unattractive guy I didn’t know stuck his tongue in my mouth at a party.

Caitlin consistently dressed in plaid shirts and boots. She wore her hair short and wouldn’t be caught dead in makeup. She came out of the metaphorical closet at age thirteen. Her parents hugged her and told her they accepted her fully and wanted her to feel comfortable bringing a date home with her. So she did. Often. Her parents believed since she couldn’t get pregnant and the risk of sexually transmitted diseases was low, she could have sex as much as she wanted. In fact, they didn’t really consider what she did as sex because sex could only occur between a man and a woman. They not only accepted, but encouraged her behavior. By the time she had graduated high school, Caitlin had boasted she had slept with over thirty women between the ages of fourteen to twenty.

Now Nina, Ashley, and Caitlin sought true love, just like Missy and me. We banded together like those who would find themselves shipwrecked on a deserted island, depending on each other for support.

I needed these women now more than ever.

“I need your advice,” I began as I drank my coffee.

“Of course, sweetie. Is it about sex?” Nina asked hopefully.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is,” I admitted.

While Nina, Ashley, and Caitlin all seemed eager to hear about my sexual woes, Missy appeared as though she wanted to be anywhere but at Drag Queen Bingo. As soon as we figured out how I should deal with Caleb’s tame proclivities in the sack, I would find out what was going on with Missy.

“Tell us all about it,” Ashley said, offering me a bite of her cake.

“Caleb and I had sex for the first time last weekend.”

“How was it?” Caitlin asked.

“If it was any good, do you think she’d be asking us freaks for advice?” Missy spouted.

The others shrugged their shoulders.

I had to spit it out before I lost my nerve. “He won’t go down on me.”

They sat there with their mouths open in disbelief, while I tried not to bolt out of the room.

“You mean, like, ever?” Ashley inquired.

“No, he finds it unsavory.”

They all laughed. I didn’t get it.

“Well, does he compensate for his lazy tongue?” Ashley asked.

“No. He’s not very, I mean, um, he’s not very endowed.”

“Did he make sure he satisfied you at all?” Nina asked.

“No, he said an orgasm wasn’t the purpose of making love. It’s the intimacy two people share, the connection.”

“That’s true, but there’s no rule that says you can’t be intimate and enjoy yourself at the same time,” Missy added.

I felt on the verge of tears. Martha sat with us. “What did I miss?”

“Her boyfriend won’t go down on her,” Nina revealed to Martha.

I groaned from embarrassment. Soon everyone in the entire store would hear about my problems in the bedroom.

“Maybe that’s because he doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Martha offered.

“I don’t know. He seemed pretty convincing when he said it was because he doesn’t enjoy the smell or taste of, um, you know ...”

“Pussy,” said Martha.

“Vajayjay,” said Nina.

“Cunt,” said Ashley.

“Down there,” said Caitlin.

“Vagina,” said Missy.

Soon the room joined in offering various names of a woman’s privates.

“Pink Taco.”

“Honeypot.”

“Lady parts.”

“Hoo Ha.”

“Muffin.”

It went on and on for ten minutes, until the room ran out of colloquialisms for it. Then Martha stood and informed everyone bingo would be delayed for a few minutes, but to enjoy a cup of coffee on the house.

“Now we have completed our linguistics lesson for the day, we should get to our technique,” proclaimed Martha.

“That’s all right...” I said, thinking of an excuse to leave this place.

“No, no. This is good. We’re lesbians. We know everything there is to know about cunnilingus,” Ashley declared.

“Why don’t we talk about this later? Martha needs to get the bingo game started or the crowds are going to get angry,” I asserted.

“No, they’ll be fine, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” Martha said.

I sat there glued to my seat while my friends explained in detail the nuances of oral sex.

“First of all, you need to know your own body. You do know where your clitoris is, right?” Ashley asked, pronouncing it clit-OR-is.

“CLIT-oris,” Missy corrected.

“That’s what I said,” Ashley stated.

“No, you said clit-OR-is. It’s pronounced CLIT-oris. The emphasis should be on the clit,” Missy said.

“Clit-OR-is, CLIT-oris. You can say it either way. Though Missy’s got the right idea. The emphasis must always be on the clit.” Nina giggled.

“All right, all right. Yes, Ashley, I might not be a lesbian, but I do know where to find my clitoris.”

“How do you like it stimulated?” asked Ashley.

“What do you mean exactly?” I responded. Honestly, what kind of question is that?

“Some women like a soft touch while others prefer a firmer one. Then of course, some like a circular motion and others like an up and down one,” Ashley said.

“Don’t forget back and forth,” Caitlin added.

“Then there’s the issue of the part of the tongue you prefer. You can create completely different sensations depending on whether you use the flat part or the tip of the tongue,” explained Nina clinically, as though we were sitting in anatomy class.

“Oh, and then there’s the blow job,” Ashley said.

“I don’t need lessons on how to give a guy a blow job,” I reminded my friends.

“I was talking about giving a woman a blow job,” Ashley stated.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, shifting in my seat. “I’ve never heard of that.”

“The tissue of the clitoris is almost identical to the tissue found in the penis. You can suck on the clitoris like you’d give a man a blowjob. Since you already know how to do that, I don’t need to explain it any further,” Ashley said.

By now, Missy laughed so hard she practically fell out of her chair. I shot her a dirty look, but that just made her laugh harder.

“Even if he won’t go down on you, he could use his fingers to get you off. Or if you’re comfortable, you can bring some toys into the mix,” Nina said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Ooh, yeah. Do you own a vibrator?” Caitlin asked.

“Um, no.”

“Every girl needs a vibrator. Then, you won’t even need Caleb!” Caitlin announced.

“I think Caleb might take offense to becoming sexually irrelevant.” Nina laughed.

“Do you think he’d take offense if you introduced a vibrator in the bedroom?” Ashley asked.

“He’s kind of on the conservative side. I doubt he’d be ready to deal with sex toys.” I couldn’t picture Caleb ever getting into sex toys like handcuffs or blindfolds. He just didn’t strike me as one of those men.

“In the meantime, you should show him what he needs to do to bring you to orgasm. Guys really like it when girls masturbate in front of them,” Nina offered.

“I, um, really?” I didn’t know if I could do that in front of Caleb.

“Definitely. Guys think it’s hot!” Nina reiterated.

“Then once you demonstrate how you like it, give him a shot at you. He can use his thumb to stimulate your clitoris while penetrating you with his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion which will stroke your G-spot,” explained Ashley.

“I thought G-spots were a myth.”

They laughed again, and I felt like a ten-year-old virgin.

“I think men started that rumor,” Missy exclaimed.

“The G-spot is tissue you can find when you’re already aroused and if you have him massage it while touching your clitoris, you’ll have the most amazing orgasm of your life,” Nina professed.

They all nodded in agreement, with the exception of Missy and Martha.

“Do you have anything to add to this conversation, Martha?”

“Well, I don’t have a clitoris, but like all you girls, I have a heart. That, my dear, is the most important organ when it comes to lovemaking. If you love each other, you’ll be able to work it out.”

BOOK: A Year to Remember
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