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Life After Party

Olivia flopped over, pressing her arm to her forehead.  A headache drummed inside her brain, dubiously reminding her of the night before: the tailgating party turned into a postgame party turned into, well, she didn’t actually remember.

A breeze hissed through the room and she shivered.  Then she sat up, wide awake, her skin forming goosebumps.  She was naked in a strange bed, with no sign of its owner.  She bit her lip and pawed through the covers frantically.  No sign of a condom, either.

“Oh god,” Olivia said, dropping her face into her hands and trying desperately to slow her heart rate. Finally, she dared peek through her fingers at the room.  It was sparsely decorated – definitely a young person’s room, with a few heavy metal band posters and a coat rack with a couple of dark, heavy coats.  Above the door was a small wooden sign with painted elephants fading around the border.  When she squinted, Olivia could read what it said: Jerri’s Room.

Jerri.  She cast about in her memory, trying to remember which scruffy-faced freshman the name might belong to, but no one came to mind.  And anyway, it didn’t matter.  She wanted to be up, dressed, and out before her one-night stand returned and awkward words had to be exchanged.

She was just standing up and pulling her too-big Bulls tee over her head when the door opened and in walked a short girl with close-cropped hair and an irresistible smile.

Olivia’s hand flew to her mouth.  "Oh my god!  I swear, I am not here to steal your boyfriend.“

The girl’s smile wobbled, but did not fade.  She set the brown bag she was carrying down on the desk.  "My boyfriend?  Olivia, what are you talking about?”

“How do you know – ”  But it all fell into place.  "Jerri,“ she breathed, and she could see the I above the door burning fiercely with revelation.  "You’re Jerri.”

Now the smile did disappear.  "You don’t remember me?“

"I don’t remember much of anything.”  Olivia dropped her voice, ashamed.  Her cheeks were hot as she took another good look at Jerri, at her hard little body and open, honest face.  If she squinted hard enough, she could see why she would have thought she was hooking up with a boy, when she was drunk off her ass.

Jerri blinked, then sat down on the bed, staring at her hands in her lap.  "Oh.  I’m sorry, Olivia.  I thought you knew.“  She looked up from under her dark lashes, daring a tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth.  "You don’t…don’t hate me for it, do you?”

“Hate you?”  Olivia opened her mouth to continue, but then she closed it, because she had to think.  Fuzzy memories surfaced.  They were talking; Jerri introducing herself at the party, with no malice or dishonesty, and Olivia taking her hand and marveling at her soft skin and perfect nails.  Olivia touching Jerri’s face.  Jerri leaning in for the first kiss, the first of many in a night Olivia realized with her whole body that she had loved.

“Hey,” she said.  "Hey, I just remembered something.“

Jerri looked skeptical, but hope glimmered in her eyes.

Olivia put her hand to her forehead.  Her head still ached, but standing there in her t-shirt and nothing else, Jerri’s gentle gaze on her face, she knew something with a conviction deeper than she’d ever known before.

"I remember how much I like you,” she said with a smile.

Jerri’s relieved grin could have blinded with its brilliance.  "So you’ll stay for breakfast?“  She pointed to the paper sack. "I got bagels.”

Olivia thought she might overflow.  Instead, she lifted her shirt over her head and stood naked, her nipples erect, in the center of Jerri’s room.

“Let’s fuck first,” she said.  "I want to remember it for real this time.“

Jerri’s whole face pinkened with shyness.  "Okay,” she said.  "Come here.  Lay down.  I want to taste you first.“

A thrill ran through Olivia’s whole body, starting between her legs and singing in her brain.  She spread herself out on the rumpled covers.  Soon, Jerri’s soft fingers began to play across her skin, starting with her legs, followed by kisses light as butterfly legs.  Olivia sighed contentedly.  She loved long mornings.

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The Actress Next Door

“Really.  Men.  I’m so fucking sick of them.”

I watch as June wrenches the bouquet of roses out of her mailbox and crushes them under her Crocs.  She throws up her hands, her tight midriff showing under her baggy grey sweatshirt.  She looks up, catching me watching, and smiles.  "Hey, Mercy!“

I hate when she addresses me by name, because I have no idea how to address her.  "Hi, Miss Maples,” I mutter.  Her porn name sounds awkward coming out of my mouth, but she’s never shared her real name.  Too much risk in the business.

She laughs, tossing her silky ponytail over her shoulder.  "For the love of God, will you just call me June?  We’re all ladies here, we can handle first names.“  She strides over to me, leggy and inviting.  "I made extra lemonade, and if you refuse it, I’ll consider you a bad neighbor.”

My shy smile nearly splits my face.  I’ve only dreamed of being acknowledged by women as beautiful as June.  "But it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood,“ I say, immediately regretting it and feeling like the ill-fitted nerd I am, "so won’t you be mine?”

June’s face flutters, and my stomach churns, but it doesn’t seem to faze her.  "Of course,“ she says, and extends her hand.  I slip mine into hers, my whole body tingling with giddiness.  "Let’s go spike some lemonade and sunbathe. I’m feeling girly today.”

Inside her house, I feel entirely out of place.  Everything is quality, even the drapes, and compared to my relative bachelor pad it’s like a palace.  An even worse realization hits me when I remember I have nothing to sunbathe in.

“Psshhh.  You’re basically my size.”  She raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me as I part my lips to protest.  "You think I don’t know what you look like under those baggy clothes you wear?  I’ve scoped out the competition.“  She winks, leaving me weak-kneed, and throws a sexy black-and-white bikini at me.

"You – watch me?”  The bikini dangles from my hand like a foreign object.

She’s blushing, just enough to color her smooth cheeks, as she pulls off her sweatshirt to reveal a bright, flowery halter top underneath.  It flatters her torso, her perky B cups.  "Well.  Now and then.  When you leave the blinds up, almost like – like you mean me to see.“  She motions with manicured nails.  "Shirt off.”

My turn to flush as I comply.  "If we’re being honest…I do mean you to see. I’m sorry.“  Apologies bubble up like a dammed river as I pull the two-sizes-too-big shirt over my head, but June crosses the room in three strides and puts her fingers on my lips.

"Shut up.  That’s not what I meant.  I’m a porn star – I see naked women all the time.”  She closes in; our bodies are nearly touching now.  The shirt drops from my hand.  "Just not any I’d care to keep around.  Until you.“

"Me?”  I feel like I haven’t had a drink of water in weeks.

“You.”  And she kisses me.  She tastes like strawberry chapstick and expensive perfume, and underneath all of that is a hint of ordinary girl, laundry and TV dinners and old books.  I want to devour her.  I compensate by kissing her back, my hands tracing her fine bones until I reach the back of her head.  I clutch handfuls of her golden tresses, like I have in my dreams.

I have to break it off first, gasping for air.  "June,“ I manage.

She licks her lips and purses them, trying to hide a smile.  Her next move is to kick her Crocs off behind her and shove me heartily onto the couch.  I sit down hard, crumpled into the cushions, and when her sweat pants are off she straddles me so her crotch is at my eye level.

"Let’s skip all that first date shit,” she says, planting kisses along my forehead like my grandmother’s tulips, all in a row.  "Except the part where we giggle a lot. I want to cuddle and watch movies and not think about men except to laugh at them.  Okay?“  As she says this, she wriggles forward until I can’t stand it any longer and plunge my hands into the bikini bottom.  Her ass is as smooth and hard as I imagined.

"Yeah,” I say, “okay.”  And I peel the bottoms forward and press my whole face to her pussy.  She moans, and I don’t think she means to.  I close my eyes.  She smells perfect.

Ever so gently, I extend my tongue and caress her clit, just once.  This time her moan is unmistakable.  "God, but the men could learn a thing or two from you.“

"Satisfaction guaranteed,” I say, grinning.  She touches the corner of my mouth and echoes the smile.

“Then get to work, before I ask for my money back,” June says, and I oblige, burying my face chin-deep in her delicious folds.  She writhes against me, teaching me her most sensitive points by the way she moves her hips, a dance I will not soon forget.

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Coming Out

Eliza’s hands were beading sweat against her fleece jacket.  She couldn’t meet Hannah’s eyes.  "So – yeah.  That’s it, I guess.“

"You’re a lesbian.”  Hannah pulled her legs up under her on her bed, cupping her chin in her hand.  "You like girls.“

Eliza nodded.  The prospect of the conversation had been terrifying, informing her closest female friend of her previously hidden desires.  Well, not for her.  Not necessarily.  Eliza steeled herself against that.  It was enough to come out of the closet to her best friend since three.

"That’s cool,” said Hannah.  "So do I.“

Eliza twitched, but otherwise her expression remained neutral.  She managed to say, with some semblance of calm, "You do?”

Hannah’s smile slipped from knowing to pleased.  "Oh yes!  Don’t get me wrong, I have a giant obnoxious crush on Jamie Bamber.  But…“  She shrugged, her smile ending on something beatific.  "There are beautiful people all over the place, and who am I to say no to a gorgeous pair of legs?”

“O-ohhhhhh,” Eliza said.  It was almost a moan.

“Look.”  Hannah put her hands out, palm up.  "I want you to answer something.  And if you can’t say it out loud, I don’t care at all if you just, well, answer how you will.“  Without looking up, she motioned at her hands with her chin.  "Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you tell me first because you are attracted to me?”

The dreaded question.  But Hannah had asked her for an honest answer, so Eliza’s fingers crept forward across the bedspread and tickled the tips of Hannah’s.  Just so.

“And did you hope I would do more than not freak out?”

It hung in the air, heavy and still.  Eliza wriggled her fingers higher up into Hannah’s hand.  Now they were a full knuckle overlapping.

“Okay,” Hannah said, and engulfed Eliza’s hand in hers.  The girls locked eyes.  Hannah smiled.  "You’re so adorable when you’re flustered.  C’mon, Lizzie, you think I didn’t notice all those times you accidentally kissed my back, or my arm, when we were waiting on the wall to swim?“  Eliza’s face flamed red.  "And you think I couldn’t have moved down the line to avoid it, if I didn’t like it?”

Now her red face was for an entirely different reason as the possibility rushed over Eliza.  "Oh,“ she said.

Hannah pushed Eliza back onto the comforter, her head facing the door towards the foot of the bed.  She lifted Eliza’s plaid skirt and kissed the insides of both thighs.  Eliza, her eyes clasped shut and her balled-up fists sweating like crazy, could only shudder.  She knew her panties were soaked through, from nervousness and instant arousal, and clenched her face when Hannah began to peel them away.

"Oh please,” she whispered, “I’m gross.”

“You’re the loveliest I’ve ever seen,” Hannah said, and her voice said that it was true.  She began to nibble, a little bridge of kisses, and Eliza’s brain whirled with the possibilities of being with her first girl.