Schooled (16 page)

“Okay, I guess I get that. But doesn’t it get a little boring with women…kind of like…um…I don’t know, like glorified masturbation?” I wondered.

“Oh wow, no! Lesbian sex is so incredibly intimate. To an outsider, it may seem like one would have to please the other separately, take turns, but that isn’t the case at all.” She took the last drink of her martini and leaned in closer to talk.

She continued, quietly, “The emotional connection between two women is completely different than it is with a man. A woman feels what you feel, knows what you know. It’s easy to please a woman, because I am a woman.” She looked away, thoughtfully, searching for the right words, the description to explain herself more clearly. “With lesbian sex, there is no defined start, middle, or end, no pressure to ‘perform’ or ‘fake it.’ Lovemaking can truthfully go all night long and well into the next day.” She explained.

“Okay, okay, hold up, let me get another drink,” I said, finishing off my drink and chuckling nervously. “Am I supposed to be getting turned on here, because I am?” I smiled, trying to be funny. “Damn. No wonder Jasper wanted to hire you for his advertising firm. You can sell the Hell out of a product. Shit. Hold on.” I said, fanning myself. Sarah laughed and stopped her story.

I got up and ordered us another two drinks. I eyed the men in the bar, wondering if any of them would be interested in taking care of the desires Sarah just stirred up in me. Walking back to her at the table, I said, “If Vivian could hear you now, she’d video tape the two of you together and send it to her parents with a ‘fuck you’ note attached.” I laughed, setting the drinks down.

“It’s just so different when making love to a man,” she continued. “When I was with Jake, I always felt so distant, so disconnected. My mind would wander.” She looked remorseful. I wondered if she felt badly for not loving him and connecting with him. He must have loved her unconditionally. Who wouldn’t? Sarah was so open and forthcoming.

Sighing she said, “I wasn’t really with him. With Vivian, I would find myself getting lost in her, wanting to find a way to get even closer, become one with her.” She took a sip of her drink, and leaned in closer to say, “I was connected to her so intimately, so entirely, it was hard to distinguish where she stopped and I began.” I could see how much she’d loved Vivian, and I felt badly for her loss, her pain.

In the elevator up to our floor, Sarah asked me if I’d ever kissed a woman back in my college days. I laughed and said, “Ya know, I always heard that was the thing to do in college, but I’d never heard of anyone who’d actually done it—not even Char.” Then, I spent the rest of the elevator ride and walk to my hotel room door, explaining who Char was and why that was monumental news. Laughing, Sarah said that she wanted to meet Char. Who didn’t?

Sarah followed me inside my hotel room, opened the mini bar, and grabbed us each a small bottle of vodka. “To a great night, and defying gravity!” she said, opening the bottles and handing me one. I took a small swig, not wanting to puke in my new pants suit. I really enjoyed my time with her.

She stirred feelings in me, curiosities in me that I never knew I possessed. I watched her flip through one of my magazines; she really was attractive. She sat down on the chair while I started my nighttime routine. We chatted like old friends; I washed my face, changed my clothes, and brushed out my hair. I had difficulty handling my routine; I was pretty drunk. During the summers, I drank more than normal, but this summer, I was coming close to breaking some college records I’d set many years before. Sarah saw that I was done getting ready for bed and stood to leave.

“Janelle, thanks again for getting me this job. I had so much fun tonight.” She leaned in to hug me. I hugged her tightly. I smelled her hair; it smelled feminine, fresh, and light.

“Did you just sniff my hair?” She asked me.

“It smells so good,” I said, leaning in to smell it again. My nose brushed her ear, smelling her neck. She tried to stifle a moan, but I heard the sound, stirring feelings inside of me, curiosities I couldn’t deny. Or even knew I had.

Her eyes met mine, her eyes questioning me. I nodded. She leaned in; I met her at the midpoint. My lips found hers. The touch was light, soft. She leaned in further, wrapping her arms around my waist. My arms went up around her neck, settling delicately on her shoulders. Our mouths opened; our tongues intertwining, exploring one another’s lips, mouths, tongues. She was delicious, tasty and so soft and careful. She kissed my neck; I whimpered, feeling my insides begging for more. She pulled back, looking at me, questioning me.

Surprising myself, I took the initiative and grabbed her hand, leading her to the bed. She crawled in with me; our arms found each other, holding the other close. She nestled into my neck; I stroked her back and hair. Her fingers found my nipples, softly tickling them through the fabric of my nightshirt. It hardened at her touch; she giggled.

“What’s funny?” I asked, feeling slightly offended.

“Sexuality. It’s so gray with women. It’s not just black and white,” she explained, tickling my collar bone with her fingernail. “With men, well most men, sexuality is black and white. You’re either gay or straight, nowhere in between.” She continued to tease the bud of my nipple, keeping it hard and aroused. “Women don’t see sexuality as one or the other. It’s something to explore, to experiment with, making it so much sexier.” She tongued my nipple through the fabric of my shirt.

I was still playing with her hair. “I don’t get it?” I admitted.

“Like earlier tonight, I invoked feelings in you, feelings that you decided to explore. That’s wonderful; curiosity got the best of you.” She smiled, looking at me with awe. “And that is so hot, so sexy, but tomorrow, when you wake up, you’ll still be the heterosexual female that was checking out the single men in the bar and nobody would dare say otherwise.” She’d stopped caressing my nipple and looked directly at me. “But if a man were to fall into bed with another man, all viewpoints of his sexuality would change, altering him for life. Being a woman is so liberating.” She giggled again, putting her hand up my shirt, caressing my bare stomach, inching closer to my breasts.

“I’m not sure what to say to that. Should we stop? Do you think that I’m not into this?” I was starting to lose my buzz and beginning to question what and why I’d allow this to start in the first place.

“Janelle, I’m having fun; you’re obviously having fun. Stop analyzing everything. We’re not gonna do anything you’re not comfortable with or I’m not comfortable with.” She was so smart, so wise. I was awed by her. I remembered her being smart in high school, but this was extraordinary. She evolved; I was proud of her.

“We’re not gonna fly back to Ohio on Wednesday and try to legalize gay marriage, for fuck’s sake.” She laughed, nudging me. She started kissing my neck, licking my earlobe again. “I just wanna have fun tonight, maybe not even do more than this, and go back remembering that I had a kick ass time in New York City.”

Okay, a month ago, I was happily (or so I thought) married to my college sweetheart. This month, I am fooling around with not one, but two of my former students. For sure, I was breaking some sort of law. One thing was for certain, they were a lot smarter than I ever gave them credit for. I wondered if I should find a way to go back in to the record archives and change their grades. They were damn geniuses.

“You’re right. I’m having fun. We should keep having fun until we decide to stop or until one of us passes out.” I laughed, kissing her again. Kissing a girl was monumentally different than kissing a boy, different from kissing Briggs for sure. His lips were so strong, so needy, and hungry. Sarah’s lips were so delicate, but confident and sure.

Sarah sat up and removed her shirt and bra. I followed her cue, and removed my shirt as well, wearing only my underwear. “I think this will be good for tonight. I don’t want you hating yourself in the morning.” She said.

“What? You’re cutting me off?” I whined, wrapping my arms around her, kissing her neck. The sensation of our bare breasts, naked nipples touching, sent currents of electrifying desire throughout my body. I’d never felt anything so sensual and erotic before, definitely never anything so forbidden. The feeling of our nipples massaging together dampened my panties and made me moan with desire and want.

She kissed my neck, licked my shoulders, traveling down my body. She looked in my eyes and said, “Janelle, believe me when I say that I really…really want you. But we need to take this slow.” She was tickling my stomach, staring at me. “I want to taste every inch of your gorgeous body. You are doing things to me that I thought had died inside me months ago. I cannot thank you enough for that.” She sucked my nipple, rolled the bud around in her mouth, blew a cold breath on the dampened nub. I moaned, pulling lightly on her hair, running my fingers along her scalp. She moved to the other nipple and massaged the flesh, tugging softly on the nipple.

“Oh Sarah, this is so hot; so sexy.” I breathed.

“Thank you, I needed that. And you, you’re gonna thank me tomorrow. You’re beautiful and worthy, and you deserve the world.” She came back up to me, kissing me deeply and passionately. I reached around her, but not before she pulled away and sat up. “Good night Janelle,” she said, smiling happily.

It took a moment for her words to register. I sat up, shocked. “You’re leaving?”

Still smiling, she pulled on her shirt, and said, “Yes, because we need sleep for the gala tomorrow. Because this could turn into something real for one of us and because one of us is going to wake up tomorrow with all that Catholic girl guilt. You know who is who too.” She kissed my head, grabbed a bottled water from the mini bar, and left.

“Oh fuck.” I mumbled and fell soundly asleep.

The next morning, I woke up exactly how Sarah predicted I would. What in God’s name was I doing? What was becoming of me? What? I’m a lesbian now? Oh what have I done? I laid in bed not wanting to face the day, to face her. I couldn’t believe I did what I had done. Anxiety was setting in. I couldn’t spend the day with her. I hope she hadn’t fallen in love with me. I didn’t want a relationship with her. Holy fuck.

My phone rang; it was Sarah. I refused to answer it. I hit the “decline” button at the same time I heard her through hotel room door, “Janelle, open up you predictable freak. I know you’re in there.” I laid there afraid to move, to make a sound. Maybe she’d go away, fly back home, forget what we’d done.

The door rattled and Sarah walked in. “When I left last night, I took your key; I knew you’d be too guilt-ridden to face me.” What was with all of my students taking my keys, stopping in, deciding what was best for me? These kids needed knocked down a few pegs.

Sarah came over and plopped down on the bed, handing me a Starbucks cup. She looked great. Her hair was in two French braids, hanging down her back. She was wearing workout gear and tennis shoes. She looked as if she’d just gotten done with a quick workout. Wasn’t she as drunk as I was last night?

Sarah’d woken up happy, full of life and renewal, not because she was in love with me, but because she knew she’d be able to love again. She was no longer afraid. Sarah had actually gotten up and gone running in Central Park, fully rejuvenated. No wonder she and Japser got along so well. A love of running!

Apparently, there was a woman at Garrity Advertising who Jasper had wanted to fix her up with, but Sarah had been too heart-broken, too gun shy to agree. But when she woke up today, she knew that she wanted to go out with her, try something new. “So get up, stop beating yourself up,” she pulled on my arm, forcing me to sit up. “You helped out a friend, no more, no less. Let’s catch the ferry and go see the Statue of Liberty; that bitch rocks!”

She was so happy, so full of life. I was jealous. I wish I woke up so sure of myself, sure of the decisions that I made. I spent my life second-guessing myself.

I laughed, “Really? Statue of Liberty? Are you sure we’re okay; you don’t think less of me?” I really couldn’t shake this feeling that I was disappointing everyone around me, letting everyone down.

“Think less of you? Oh for God’s sake! You got me out of my funk, and I fulfilled a seven-year fantasy last night.” She smiled triumphantly.

I looked at her questioningly. “Seven-year fantasy?” I asked.

“Yep, ever since you wore that baby--” She said.

“Shut up, don’t say it!” I screamed, pulling the covers up over my head, blocking out the words.

She screamed louder, “That baby costume, I’ve wanted to see your tits.” She laughed, trying to pull me up out of the bed. “Not only did I get to see those babies, but I got to touch ‘em and lick em.”

“Oh my God, kill me now. Did you just say ‘tits’?” I admonished. “That’s disgusting; girls aren’t supposed to use that word.” I laughed, throwing my pillow at her.

“Yep, now get ready. Tits. Tits. Tits.” I jumped out of the bed, holding my hands over my ears.

******

Sarah and I had a great time sight-seeing and being the typical tourists. We hit all the trademark touristy spots. She was great company and quickly turning in to a good friend. I was glad she kept my key and forced me to see the truth. If it were up to me, I’d still be in my hotel room looking for ways to avoid her for my misconduct and poor decisions. But she was right, it was healthy to explore and experiment. Our “hookup” last night gave her clarity and made her realize that it was time to reopen her heart; it gave me clarity as well. I spent the entire day thinking about Briggs and Leo. Yes, Leo too. Exploring my sexuality was definitely number one on my to do list. The first two things that I wanted to do: Briggs and Leo. Both!

Walking in to the fundraiser, I felt gorgeous; the plum-colored backless dress was an immediate confidence booster. I knew I looked sexy; Sarah kept pointing out men who were ogling me. I enjoyed the attention. My self-esteem was out of whack and going haywire. One minute, I felt gorgeous, carefree, ready to take on the world; the next minute, I doubted myself, hated myself, and didn’t know where I was going in life. Maybe these were typical emotions for a victim of infidelity. I didn’t know. I didn’t know anyone who’d ever experienced this before. I made a mental note to hit some book stores back home about coping with lechery and getting over my feelings of inadequacy. I never thought I’d be one to need “Self Help” books, but damn, I certainly needed them.