A Heretic's Heart

Eventually we tried the scissors, and that we really loved. Our hands were free to roam over each other's body when we weren't in our throes too much, and that even included our feet, which to me was a real treat. I had noticed, naturally, that Paige's feet were smallish, and rather cute, or pretty, which I preferred to think of them, as. It was a challenge to lick her feet and suckle her toes, and in between as we drove ourselves wild as our clits were making sure they were the real focus of our love making.

Aside from seeing each other's body, we also looked at our faces, and into our eyes. I knew my face wore an expression that said I couldn't stop the wondrous sensations we were giving to each other. It had to show in my eyes as it showed on her face and in her beautiful blue eyes that were no longer like a sweet ice, but a melting ice from the fires we were putting in them. She seemed to enter my whole being, flooding me with her love so that I was but an extension of her just as I felt she was becoming an extension of my love, my bliss of the moment that went on and on.

My shoulders and head propped up slightly, I reveled in the sight of her with our pussies locked together. It made for one thrilling trip for me that had my mind shut down as I looked at her. Yes, this could well hatingve been the death of us, but it wasn't; it was our life, the reaffirmation of our love of each other, our never wanting to be parted, and knowing it. Why, oh why would any wish to deny us of these joys that were so readily ours to have?

For a while we considered if we were too much into our sex. We had to conclude that if we weren't, we were darn sure close to being that way. Frankly, sometimes I thought that it was Ms. Connor and her class that kept us grounded. Why? Because it made us think, wonder about just what we were, and also wonder at why we were, and why we had been blessed with the ability to love so much as we so often did.

"Not to specifically knock any belief, but this stuff of the immutability of our persons and species, though it's not said as such directly in the bible, is a bunch of nonsense that is believed by many preachers. Barbara McClintock's experiments that have since been proven, making a lie of that religious mumbo-jumbo. Our genes say a lot of what we are, and maybe how and why we are, but they change their minds and move about, thus changing us even if we're adults. Heck, we don't even need her proofs to know that we change—everybody changes as we age, and since we're atoms, we know that we also replace our atoms whether we're young or old, on a regular basis.

"Our genes also, when they do decide to move about, often alter a nearby gene, or even turn it off, or back on if it was off, and that changes us."

Paige was really into genetics, and much more. If she had that silly little girl about her personality, there was also a very sharp and astute mind at work, and she was seriously considering genetics as her major, along with evolutionary biology, micro biology, evolutionary developmental psychology, as well as sociology, and she had a natural facility for learning them all too. In a way, she scared me, she was so brilliant as far as I could see, but she loved me just as I loved her, and that was that.

I never suggested she take up any one discipline over another; it was all her choice as far as I was concerned, but Ms. Connor hoped she would get into genetics.

"She's a natural," Ms. Connor once told me privately.

"Seems like she's a natural many things," I offered.

"I wouldn't doubt it. You two are lucky to have found each other, you compliment each other so well," she said.

"Thank you; we both feel that way."

* * * *

"Jennifer, honey," she began unsurely with her little girl way of saying some things.

"What, baby?" I asked wondering what she would come up with this time.

"Do you feel you want to stay together? I mean, like permanently?"

"As far as I'm concerned you should know that I think of us that way already, so yes, if it's what you want, I do too."

"I thought so, but then I wondered about your religious beliefs, and, uh, how your folks might take to us being lovers, or maybe more," she spilled her real thoughts behind her questioning.

Paige had a lot of insecurities, I thought, but we hadn't been together long enough for me to find out about them. I think it was our studying and our sexual persons that just wouldn't quit, that kept me from asking about her past, but soon I would have to. However, she asked a valid question, one which I hadn't wanted to think about. Actually two of them, but the other, our permanency, would have to wait until we were of age to legally say what our desires were as far as legalities went. Maybe my parents wouldn't wait—but what about hers, I wondered?

"I don't know. It's not about us alone, it's about how I am period, how I can't love a man, or have a family as they expect, but I'm not sure how they'd act, what they'd think. I love my parents very much though I now feel that they've been very wrong as far as religion is concerned, but I don't want to hurt them. There's no way that I worry about having to give you up because as long as you want me, I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. If they happen to find out about us, then I tell them how I am period, and there's no changing that. In no way am I ashamed of you. Actually, I'm very proud of you, and happy that you love me."

"Oh. Okay, I just wondered."

"Paige, baby, what about you? You seldom, if ever, say anything about your family."

She looked away for a minute. "Yeah, I do, don't I?"

I nodded and waited.

"When I was less than two, my mother left us. Well, in a way, they both left me for my father was, and still is, often away making more money than he knows what to do with."

"Who took care of you?" I asked.

"My maternal grandparents. They were so mad at my mother, but not too fond of my father either. They were sweet to me, and did their best to raise me properly. When they found out that I didn't like boys, they didn't look down their noses at me, but my father had a fit. I have no idea what my mother thought, or even if she knew. My father threatened to disinherit me, but my grams and gramps didn't. They set up a trust fund for me, and also paid for my education, and made sure that I had as good a tutor as could be found; several of them in fact. Anyway, that's me, save that I always dreamed of someday finding you—my fantasy, my dream girl, and here you are."

"Did you ever tell them about your preference of girls instead of boys?"

"Just my grams," she said, looking down as if remembering a bit wistfully.

"What did she say?"

"She just smiled and patted my hand. Nothing else. I always figured that she told gramps."

"It sounds as if they're not alive now," I fished.

"No, they both died, gramps when I was a junior in high school, and grams just after I graduated. I haven't seen my father in years, and definitely not my mother."

"You never hear from them at all?" I asked somewhat incredulously.

"Not really. I have no idea how either of them are. I guess if anything happens to them, I'll be told by the trust attorneys."

"So you've been on your own for about two years, huh?"

"Uh-huh. This is my house for now. When I finish here, if I stay, I'll probably stay here. It's all I need for now, unless you think we should go elsewhere."

I thought about what she said about her parents, but decided not to say much about the future. It was too soon.

"It seems like they—your grandparents—did a good job of raising you."

"Yeah, I think so too.

* * * *

After that, I began thinking about my parents, and how I was going to tell them that I loved Paige, and also when I would do it. I could get by during summer, but come the next Christmas, I knew I'd tell them first, and if they accepted my love of Paige, and that where I was, she would be too, then great, we'd both go to see them as I did before. If not, there was no way that I was leaving Paige behind as I had before. True, we weren't together then, but that was no longer so.

I didn't tell any of this to Paige though. I didn't want to bring any problems to her that weren't necessary. I'd tell her after I talked to my parents. We loved each other just as if we were married, and we slept together, and nothing was going to change that. What was a bit surprising to me was the certainty that I had about all of it. There were no doubts at all in my mind. I pretty much knew that if we were of age, Paige would want us married, and so would I.

What I did tell Paige was what I thought, but without the inherent drama.

"As for my parents, I'll tell them about us when I think they may be accepting of us, but I will tell them. You're my partner, and that's final."

"Oh, god, I love you, Jennifer, my sweet and beautiful lover," she gushed immediately as she hugged me in what might be properly termed a bear hug. I grinned at my thought.

"I love you too, baby, but you know that I do."

"What about this summer?" she asked still holding me.

"In the summer I work to pay for as many things as I can," I said simply. "That's what I said I'd do, and that's what I did last summer."

"Honey, you don't..."

"Hush that. I do too. I'll not be a kept woman," I grinned, and kissed her. She smiled, sighed, and led me to our bedroom.

Yes, it was our bedroom now. That's how I thought of it , and I was sure she did too.

Chapter 7

It seemed that expressing our love sexually dominated our time, but studying and going to class was a close second with religion being third, but still taking up a fair share of our days. However, it was those darned books of Paige's that I thought might be the death of us. We'd get so horny in trying out some methods and positions for making love to each other that we literally wore ourselves out endlessly.

Sometimes Paige seemed to become obsessed with a particular position. One such was tribbing via the scissors position. It wasn't easy, but quickly became so with the onset of our ecstasies, but it was a little difficult to continue on for as long as we would have liked, thus our tempting our breathing capacity for too long, but mercy, it was so delicious.

Seeing Paige when she was in the dominant position, her long and slender nipples fully extended, those eyes and her skin coloring and tone, and my hands on as much of her as possible, particularly her lovely cheek, it was much too thrilling to want to end it. Seeing her beauty so blatantly before my eyes kept me stoked to keep loving her.

Yes, I loved her body, it's sheer beauty and fragile looking delicacy. There were often times when we'd be in the kitchen and I'd come up behind her, my one hand on a breast and nipple, my other hand going to her pussy and gently but firmly pulling her ass against my pussy and kissing her endlessly with a loving passion as my fingers entered her just enough to get to her clit wet as I rubbed against her. Those orgasmic times out of our bed were more than beautiful to me, and to Paige too. Hearing her moans and soft, sweet words of love thrilled my heart.

To me, when you make love to your lover, and get to see so much of her, that is almost a supreme joy that is long lasting making our climaxes together sweeter than ever. Paige was a joy to make love to and look at her as we did. I imagined it to be like having sex and cuddling at the same time, the sensations and the pure visual joys were so many and so sweet.

Yet we more than survived our sexual trysts with each other that were nearly as plentiful as our casual touching during our days and nights. That we did so led to our dislike of putting our clothes on to study, but it paid off for us. As we had before we came together, we continued to do well in our studies. Giving way to studying properly paid off for us as our grades remained as high as ever, though I must say that had it not been for Paige's natural aptitude in all subjects, my grade in genetics wouldn't have been as high as hers.

Genetics fascinated Paige. There was a portion of it where sequencing was a major part of Ms. Connor's teaching, and she made sure that we were aware of it, meaning, of course, that it would be on a test. It was a bit hard to follow as I hadn't been exposed to the idea of sequencing amino acids to make a protein. What was so unusual was that the resulting gene was also pretty much the same in other than humans, but in also other species too, yet was not the same.

"It's the repetition of the sequence," Ms. Connor said with a meaningful raising of an eyebrow. "Just imagine a protein that is created by having amino acids, say named one, two, and three, to make the protein. Now what if the sequence is repeated, as it often is, a second time in most creatures that have that gene. That brings about the expression of that gene in us for whatever it is the gene wants us to show, or exhibit. Yet, in we humans, that same gene is expressed differently simply because the sequence of amino acids were repeated more than just the two times, possibly seven times, thus making that gene express itself differently in us than in other creatures with the otherwise identical gene.

"It's amazing what all we are learning, but this shows that we have, at sometime in the past, been other than what we see ourselves as being today, having progressed from what we were, and now much different from our other fellow creatures. We are all made of atoms that have somehow become molecules, that have somehow in the far distant past learned, or stumbled into joining together to become more viable in their efforts to survive. When you get right down to it, even a rock is nothing but atoms, and oddly, atoms are mostly space such that particles such as neutrinos can zip right through a boulder and even go through the earth. Push against a huge rock, and we just can't seem to budge it, but physicists say that we do; we just don't realize it. It's a matter of perspective, or perception—again, do we really see what we think we see, or is it just that we're limited in how we perceive some things? Think of bacteria and a micrroscope.

"Genetics, along with physics, microbiology, and other disciplines, are increasingly joining together in their knowledge of finding out just what we are, if not why. In other words, what we think we see is not necessarily what is, or just a small portion of what truly is. Evolution by natural selection, randomness of our DNA coming together, mutations in our DNA, morphing of our DNA, and probably our environmental changes make us what we are, and we are constantly changing, though we can't say it is for the better, especially as regards those changes due to our environment. Industry is not in the business of making sure about being conscious of their effects on us as a species, but rather on making money to insure the survival of their company. We need to change their perspective on environmental awareness and its effects on us as a species. The findings of genetics is helping to make this awareness more openly incumbent on them."

Ms. Connor continued to impress us, especially Paige, with her knowledge and how she made as sure that she could to pass it on to us in a way that was interesting.

* * * *

"She's fabulous," Paige gushed, meaning Ms. Connor of course.

"She is," I agreed, "and she makes so much so clear to us though some of it is hard to imagine. Can you just see a boulder budging when we try to push it?" I asked with a wry grin.

"Yeah, that's pretty hard to imagine, but just maybe we need to start to think in those terms. Hmm, maybe it's so hard just as a round earth was hard for some to believe in because it didn't seem round to them, or that the earth is the center of all and everything goes around us."

"You may be right," I had to agree with that possibility.

Changing how we looked at things was a challenge, but then it had been for some for ever so long, though we now knew better, or more fully, I should say. Still, not everyone saw things as we know are real. Some fools, I understood, are even saying that we walked in safety among dinosaurs like T-Rex claiming that they were vegetarian. I hadn't read where they explained—if they ever did—how T-Rexs and the others fit in Noah's arc. For that matter, I also understand that some people still believe that the earth is flat. We have a long way to go on erasing a lot of the ignorance that is still prevalent.

* * * *

As things moved on, so did my thoughts on religion. That was coming about slower though, time being a constraint on my thinking and wondering about it. Still, I did make some time to restudy the bible as I hadn't before. In fact, I realized, I seldom really read the bible. Oh, I read some of what our "bible study guides" suggested, but really getting into with an objective awareness, it was different.

I began to seek out books that were as heretical as my heart seemed to be; that is, of a different view than what was considered orthodox, which orthodox really meant, as I came to understand, what they wanted us to think we knew, and make us believe that it was god's word from the bible and thus the truth.

One of the things that set my mind into a tizzy was how I never thought about how different were the stated happenings in the gospels after Jesus was said to have risen. They varied sharply, and that meant that there was quite a bit of error. Reading it all anew, I had to admit that I had seen those differences before, but had never paid any attention to them. Why not?

Maybe it was because it was automatic to believe as we were told things were. No, it was never pointed out that there was a difference in them, but rather it was that when spoken about, they were spoken of individually, and not together. No sermon contained all of them, or any combination of two of them, so I always saw them as just the one of the moment, and that was that—no differences of any kind appeared in my mind. The Christmas story was always from Matthew too, and never mind that there was no census ordered by Rome. We only saw what we wanted to see, to enjoy the time as we had been told to enjoy it, presents and all along with all the decorations that were never there at the supposed birth. It was all about culture, what we had been taught to believe.

Right after that, it came to me to look at the discovering of Jesus after he had been placed in the tomb. Once more, my eyes were opened at the fact that there were distinctively opposing accounts of not only who found him arisen or gone, but how. Why hadn't I noticed it as being so like just a bunch of stories. All of this gave rise not to Jesus having risen, but to prima facie evidence of fictional stories though my heart didn't want to believe that was so. There was no way I could deny what I saw objectively—the books, that is, the gospels, had been cooked, so to speak, and badly at that, but that's not what we were taught to see.

As I thought of those things, I sat there in wonder at my gullibility, the gullibility of all of us and felt a sadness that brought tears to my eyes. I didn't doubt that Jesus was a historical person, but the gospels had to be mostly pure fiction, so what to really and truly believe? So many different stories; there was no doubt that they were all a fiction, or just one wasn't, but if so, which one, and why did they subscribe and make us believe in all of them?

"What's wrong, hon?" my darling Paige asked me with a worried tone in her voice.

I told her.

"Oh, crap. I guess that's so, huh, and you're just now seeing it. Okay, I never saw it, but I never did care, only seeing that I was given presents. You, though, had it all as if in your blood, huh?"

"Yeah, it was in my blood, in my mind, in my heart, in all of me, and it's phony as can be and I'm just now realizing it. The shame of it is that if it wasn't for our love, I never would have looked at it. It's only because of our love, women loving other women sexually, and them all being against it so much that it brought me to look at it all and wonder. If not for that, I'd still be as I was about all things church. I hate it, Paige. I really hate it.," I cried on, my tears still steady if not more so.