A Chemical Moment

Before the tingling stopped, her focus shifted, and she was lightly tickling my feet and kissing my legs. I spread my knees instinctively, and soon felt the kisses circling inward. The newly bare skin between my legs was still very sensitive, and her tongue was just delicate enough that I could handle it without losing my mind. She teased around for a while, but I had felt her tongue on and then inside my pussy for the first time the night before, and I needed that again. Anne obliged me, gently at first and then assertively. I don't know where she learned how to do that, how many girls she slept with before me, and I didn't care. All I cared about was what she was doing to me.

The sensations blurred together into a continuous buzz of pleasure as her tongue explored, joined later by a finger. And then her tongue licked forward, over my clit, and I felt a shot of pleasure so sharp it was almost pain. Her touch was light, but just a few more gentle swipes of her tongue drove me over the edge.

I came with a great big shudder, and I squirmed enough that Anne moved her head out of the way, but she kept her finger inside me, stroking gently, and I clenched around it as I came. The whole time she was making love to me, I felt Anne pouring her soul into me. This wasn't just playing around. She was letting her body do what her mind couldn't quite acknowledge.

I found her snuggled up beside me, sighing and happy, as I recovered. It was a while before I wanted to move again, and as I started to get up, Anne put her arm over my chest and held me. "Just relax and enjoy the moment, sweetie," she said. "I got exactly what I needed this morning, and all I want now is to hold you for a while."

When I looked over at her, I may have looked hurt or confused or lustful, or a combination of all three. I'm not really sure what was going on in my head. Anne smiled that mischievous smile of hers and said, "Don't worry, love. You can do whatever you like to me tonight. We have plenty of time." That was good enough for me.

Anne held me for a while, staring into my eyes, and then rolled over to get out of bed. I was still dizzy and a little sweaty, but not enough to need another shower. Especially not with Anne - that would just make me crazy again. She started to get dressed, kissing me on the head when she bent down to fetch a bra. I watched. Now that I was watching with real interest, she went slowly and showed off her body for me. She seemed to enjoy doing it, and I certainly enjoyed watching her. After she was done it was my turn, and Anne got to watch me. I couldn't possibly have been as graceful or as beautiful as she was, but her face told me she was happy enough with the view.

We had the whole day to spend together, and we intended to make use of it. We walked out the door of our dorm for the first time as a true couple, and into a blissful life together.

~~~

Graduation Night

We had a wonderful three years together, as friends and then as lovers, but it was coming to an end. Anne was going to med school at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, and I was going back to Boston to get my PhD at MIT. We tried to make it work, to go to grad school together, or at least in the same city, but it didn't pan out. We could have made it happen, by giving up on our first choice schools and going somewhere we could compromise on. North Carolina, maybe. If Anne had asked me to, I would have followed her to Baltimore in a heartbeat, even without admission to a school in the area, but she didn't. I didn't know what Anne would have done if I asked her to follow me, and I didn't want to know.

I think we both knew it was for the best. We were both too young to make the sacrifices required to be together. We had plans for our lives, sketched out before we even met, that we just weren't ready to give up.

Anne was also relieved for another reason: breaking up with me meant she could tell herself that being a lesbian was just a college thing. She would get herself through med school and residency and then find a man.

When it became clear it wasn't going to work out for us, she told me "Keep an open mind, Allison. Don't let love pass you by just because you've convinced yourself you're gay." That really pissed me off, even though she eventually turned out to be right about me yet again. But that's another story. It's funny how Anne could always be so right about me, and everyone else, but so clueless about herself.

Graduation day itself was lovely. The Chemistry department had an informal ceremony for me and my fellow Chemistry majors, and the Biology department did the same for Anne. The main ceremony, held in the stadium, was huge and impersonal, as much an exercise in logistics as a celebration of learning. How could it not be with thousands of graduates? But it didn't diminish the excitement in the air one bit. Graduating from college is a big fucking deal. The moment itself doesn't mean anything at all, but it encapsulates four years (or more) of hard work, and it represents a lifetime of curiosity.

Afterward both our families took us out for a very nice dinner in Springfield, away from the madness right around campus. Anne's parents were entirely wonderful to me, accepting me into their family without question. My family was equally wonderful to Anne, despite my Mom's misgivings. Mom finally learned the art of compartmentalization, as so many American Catholics need to do, and was able to accept Anne as somebody important to me.

After dinner, we went back to our apartment - we shared a one bedroom just off campus junior and senior years - for our last night together as a couple. We were mostly packed already, just bathroom stuff and clean clothes out for the morning. This was another one of those life moments. A sad one.

Our lovemaking that night was slow and soft, but there was an edge of desperation underneath. I had gotten to know Anne's body in exquisite detail, and if I had wanted to, I could have sent her into orbit, screaming and dizzy with pleasure. She could have done things to me I can't even describe. On our last night together, though, the objective wasn't pleasure. It was connection. We held onto each other late into the night, bodies fused together, unwilling to let go.

When our endurance finally failed, we lay together face to face. I said, as I had so often before, "Anne, I . . ." It had become a ritual, and I was performing it for the last time. I held the pause longer than usual, giving Anne her chance to stop me with a kiss or a shush or another of her clever interventions. This time, though, she didn't quite follow the script. She put her index finger gently to my lips and smiled at me.

And then she said, "I know, sweetie. I love you too."