Fate of the Fishbowl

"You don't?" I asked.

"I mean, I'm used to people admiring me, but they never see the real me," Beth said, looking vulnerable, which completely surprised me. Why on earth would she feel vulnerable? And around me? But it was there, it was real, I could see it, and she was asking. So I just went with it.

"I'm sure I see you," I told her, and I did. I saw through her beauty and into her soul... I saw a very vulnerable, and maybe even a somewhat lost soul. Which again was surprising, but obviously real.

"What do you see?" she asked, and now she was trembling. It was obvious she'd been living a superficial life where she never got deeply into someone she cared about. Nor, and more importantly, vise versa.

"I see someone very beautiful just like everyone else sees you, but you're also lost, and longing to be found," I said with utter sincerity.

"Bingo! You always were the smartest girl in the school," she smiled that warm smile at me again. I could tell she was saying something light-hearted to avoid getting any deeper into this subject for now, and since I really did need to get home, I let it slide. For now.

I gave her a hug, and she asked, still enclosed in my arms, "Are you gay?"

I chuckled softly. I let her go and admitted, "Before today, I've always been rather asexual. I didn't find boys sexually attractive, but I was assuming and hoping that was just because the boys in our town are all... as you called them... pigs, but..."

"But, what?" she asked, listening to my every word intensely and with hope.

"But when you kissed me for the first time a while ago..." I said, "...my entire body came alive."

"Mmmmmmm," she smiled, kissing me again, this time for a few seconds.

When she broke the kiss, I said, "I don't know if I'm gay or not, but at the very least I'm definitely infatuated with you."

"Infatuated, nice word," she smiled.

"And I mean the real you, inside and out," I said, leaning in, and I initiated the kissing this time.

"That means so much to me," she said. "More than you can possibly imagine."

"I want you to know that whatever this is, or might be, and whatever happens in the future, I'll always be there for you at least as a friend," I said, wanting to let her know she had a confidante, regardless of whether we established a relationship, or if this was just a one-day blip on the radar of her life.

"I appreciate that," she said, taking my hand, "and I hope maybe it can become more than just friends."

"So do I," I said, my body warming with the possibilities of what might become... in what was already becoming the most life-altering day of my life.

"I'd better drive you home," she said.

"That would be wonderful; my Mom probably assumes I've already left by now," I agreed.

She held my hand as we traipsed downstairs, she told her Mom she was taking me home while holding my hand right in front of her, and then we headed out. She confided, "My Mom knows I'm a lesbian."

"That's good," I said.

"Yeah, when I told her she just said, "Oh," and then didn't say anything about it for a few days," she said. "And then she told me I was probably going through a phase, since she's been with quite a few women herself."

"Oh," I said, unable to imagine having such an exchange with my Mom. In my head, Mom had had sex three times... getting pregnant each time,,, even though I knew biologically that was ridiculous.

"Yes, we're really close," she said. "Especially after Dad died."

"I'm sorry," I said, recalling her Dad had died in that car accident in a snowstorm three or four years ago... just a couple days before Christmas.

"It is what it is," she said, as she opened her car door for me again.

"I can't imagine," I said sympathetically, as I sat down and she looked at me... then feeling wicked, I lifted my skirt high enough to reveal I was wearing thigh high stockings.

"No way!" she gasped.

"You're not the only enigma inside this car," I smiled.

"So I'm learning," she said, admiring my leg for a moment, before closing my door and walking around to her side.

After she'd gotten in, buckled up and started the engine, she said, "Pull that dress up enough for me to feel those stockings, you bad girl."

I smiled as I obeyed her request, and feeling sexy and alive for the first time ever, I quoted, "I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way."

"You're quoting Jessica Rabbit to me," she said, placing her hand on my skirt-less leg as she began to drive. "She's my ultimate cartoon crush."

"Betty Boop," I countered.

"Of course she is," she smiled, as she turned the radio on, which was tuned to a classic rock station instead of some lame station that only played autotune songs... the song just starting happening to be 'Born to be Wild'.

We sang it together, each of us knowing most of the words, and I couldn't help but wonder if Fate really was watching over us... the fishbowl that had started it all, our shared love for Hepburn (although hers was at least in part DNA-based), and now a song that fit our situation so perfectly... this being the wildest day of my life!

We sang together through two more songs, the Beatles' 'I Want to Hold Your Hand', where she took mine and gripped it tightly through the classic song, and then I admitted my favourite song was 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps' (I love Eric Clapton... Layla another of my all-time favourite songs), and hers was 'Twist and Shout'.

The last song was Meatloaf's 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light', which was still playing as she pulled up to my house... the wild 'Will you love me forever/Let me sleep on it' duet section going full tilt.

"Today was really special," she said.

"It was surreally amazing," I said, not wanting to get out of the car.

"You should give me your number," she said.

I gave it to her, and she said, "For the rest of today, we should only text each other questions and answers about each other and ourselves."

"Okay," I said, liking the sound of this game.

"Nothing serious, let's just have fun with it," she specified.

"I like it," I nodded.

She leaned in and kissed me just once more. "And I like you."

"I like you too," I said, some more fireworks shooting off inside me.

"Until tomorrow, then," she said, looking as sad about my leaving as I was to leave.

"Until tomorrow, yes," I agreed, and I briefly kissed her one last time before reluctantly getting out of the car.

I didn't even get into the house before I received her first text: What's your favourite 80s song?"

I responded playfully just before entering the house: You need to guess. It's a one hit wonder.

She texted again a minute later, likely paused at a red light: Our House?

I texted back, realizing she could be guessing for an eternity: That's a good one, but it's Wouldn't It be Good by Nick Kershaw.

A couple minutes later she texted: Mine is a Prince song.

I responded: That could be anything. 1999, When Doves Cry, or my favourite: Kiss.

She responded back five minutes later, while I'd been staring at my phone, waiting for it to ping: No, no and no... but after today, I may need to reconsider that last one.

I texted: What is it then?

She responded: Purple Rain, although Let's Go Crazy is a close second, but when I'm feeling frisky, you can't deny the wickedness of Darling Nikki.

I could feel my face flush again at the innuendo... Darling Nikki was a very naughty song. I responded, still feeling playful: Have you ever masturbated with a magazine?

She responded almost immediately: No personal questions for now.

As I went to type a response of apology, she texted again: Although I may have to tonight, with no magazine required : ).

My eyes went wide. My body began to sweat. My pussy again began wanting some attention. I erased the initial apology I'd begun and responded instead, taking more than a couple of minutes to decide what on earth to write, before I sent the weakest of responses: Me too!

She sent a couple minutes later: I'm home now.

Over the next few hours, we asked each other dozens of questions:

We both loved Queen, especially Bohemian Rhapsody, although she disagreed with me, thinking the 80s Queen was better than the 70s Queen.

Her favourite snack food was ice cream, and mine was cookies (any kind, really).

We both chose green as a favourite colour (she mentioned my green eyes, hers were blue). Her second choice was pink, and mine purple.

She'd traveled lots, I'd done almost none... her favourite place to visit was Italy, while that was the country I most wanted to go to... partly because of Roman Holiday, partly because I loved Italian food, and partly for the history.

She planned to major in drama; I was going for law.

Her favourite 80s movie was Pretty in Pink, and mine was another John Hughes movie Sixteen Candles, which I got away with by refusing to judge it based on today's moral standards. (The moment the Thompson Twins song 'If You Were Here' starts playing, I still get warm fuzzies all over).

Her favourite designer was not surprisingly Hubert de Givenchy, who'd worked with Audrey Hepburn... while he was a close second to mine: Coco Chanel.

We talked more about music, more movies, classes, teachers, shoes, food, and so much more... it was so much fun... so liberating, and yet so offhandedly personal.

We agreed Sandra Bullock was awesome. We both loved The Proposal, While You Were Sleeping, Miss Congeniality, and The Blind Side, even though I didn't like football at all. Our only significant difference in tastes was that I loved Bird Box, while she stopped watching it five minutes in.

It was the perfect night, and it flew by like no other one had.

Our final few texts were much more tentative. She sent: I had a lot of fun today and tonight.

I responded: Me too. Best day and night ever.

She responded: Me too. But I have to ask a favour.

I replied: Anything.

She said: I hate to say this, but for the time being this wonderfulness needs to stay between just us.

I responded, wanting to show my understanding: I agree wholeheartedly.

She replied: Thanks, Bailey.

I responded: Thank *you*, Beth.

We both said goodnight, and after I responded to a call from Jamie... who was super worried about me... until I let her know it had turned out okay... even though I couldn't tell her what I really wanted to... and then I ended up in bed... with my eyes closed... slowly rubbing my pussy.

Now I wasn't some prude... I masturbated... from time to time, anyway... although it was usually just for stress release... I'd never really masturbated while daydreaming about a person... neither male nor female.

But that night I enjoyed a slow rising orgasm while I simply recalled my time today with Beth. I didn't know what we were or weren't... although I hoped we could explore our feelings some more... and one thing was for certain, after spending one day with her, I knew what I was sexually... or I knew what I wanted to be... and even closer to what felt like the truth, at least to my truth, my lack of a sex drive now made sense. I was a lesbian... or I guess just a wannabe lesbian.

Internally, I'd felt more and stronger emotions today than I had before in my entire life. The sparks of her touches, the warmth of her looks, and the beauty of her smiles, all had brought sensations of pleasure and contentment to me in ways I'd never felt before.

I didn't know if I was in love. At eighteen, and never having had any feelings like this before, how could I know? Yet, it was definitely something special. I already missed her.

As I rubbed myself, I replayed her touch, her soft lips, the way she looked at me, the way she made me feel... and when my orgasm struck, it was unlike any of my previous ones... the rest were no more than activities for the sole purpose of getting off and relaxing my brain and my body a little (I'm told I can be a little high strung!) ... but tonight's orgasm was about someone... and thus it meant so much more.

As I lay there in the afterglow of my orgasm, I was both excited and nervous about the upcoming day... I had no idea what lay ahead, but for the first time ever, I was looking forward to school for reasons other than earning good grades and thus paving the way to get the hell out of this backwards town.

.....

The next morning for the first time ever, I couldn't decide what to wear. I always put some thought into my outfits, but only for myself, and not to impress or to be recognized by anyone at school. But today was different. Today I was dressing with a purpose... I was dressing solely to please one person... Beth.

I'd already decided what I was wearing underneath my dress or skirt... my only garter-belt with sheer beige, almost nude shade, stockings with Cuban heels and sexy seams down the back of the legs. I just knew Beth would like those, even though I wasn't sure whether she'd have any opportunities to see them... especially the garter-belt... but whether or not, I still knew that my wearing such sexy lingerie gave me a quiet inner confidence.

After thoughtfully considering nine outfits, I went with one I'd never worn to school before... a Hepburn-inspired style slim black dress that accentuated my chest in ways I never did... and although it was long enough to easily cover the lace-top stockings and garter-belt, it was a good six inches shorter than anything I usually wore to school.

I considered changing my stockings, since black seemed like a more logical choice for the black dress, but I really wanted to wear those Cuban heel stockings, and the only colour I had them in was the beige pair... so I kept them on.

I also applied a little makeup and lipstick to my face... which I never did for school.

At school... I definitely got a few looks... and when Jamie saw me, her eyes went wide.

"This is a new look," she smiled, looking me over and obviously impressed.

"You mean the dress?" I asked.

"The dress, how short it is, and the makeup," she said, Jamie having pushed me to wear more makeup ever since middle school.

"Yeah, I guess," I said, wishing I could tell her all about yesterday, wishing I could explain why I was dressed up with more pizazz than usual.

"So what's with the sexy look?" she asked.

"It's not sexy," I said.

"No? Just look around. Lots of the boys are staring at... you know," she said, as she pointedly glanced down to my big breasts, which were showcased for the first time at school ever... I normally wore outfits that downplayed my voluptuous breasts, not wanting to be judged in such a superficial way.

"Really?" I asked, as I looked around and did indeed see some boys who usually didn't give me the time of day checking me out... or my chest, anyway.

"Well, I just felt like dressing up today," I said, which was at least partly true.

"Wow, you look amazing, Bailey," Beth said, appearing with her three best friends in tow.

"Thanks," I said, feeling my cheeks going instantly red... as in fire engine red... and my heart skipped a beat at the compliment.

"See ya," Beth said, giving a wave and heading off.

After a few seconds of complete silence... while Jamie examined me closely while I resisted looking back at Beth, who was wearing a blue and black plaid skirt, mocha coloured pantyhose and a white blouse... she literally looked like she was a student attending a private school requiring uniforms... a look which I suddenly found very hot and sexy.

Taking more than a good twenty seconds to say, since she paused after every single word, Jamie intoned, "What... the... hell... was... that?"

"What?" I asked innocently... although I knew exactly what she was asking, and I wasn't much of an actor.

"What?" she mocked. "Beth going out of her way to greet you and to give you a compliment. Your flustered reaction. Your obvious struggle not to stare as she walked away. What do you mean, what?"

"I don't know," I said, now avoiding eye contact.

"What happened between you two yesterday?" she demanded.

"What do you mean?" I said, opening my locker to still avoid any eye contact with her.

"You know exactly what I mean," she said. "You're suddenly acting very strange."

"Why? I asked, as I opened my locker and stared fixedly into it. "Because I wore something a little more provocative today?"

"No, because your face went the brightest red I've ever seen because of a compliment from Beth," she said. Jamie was a very observant girl. She wanted to become a psychologist, and she was always analyzing people, although usually not me, since she already knew just about everything there was to know about me.

"I'm not used to receiving compliments," I said, which was true... so I wasn't lying.

"So you have nothing to tell me about yesterday after school or that inconsequential little exchange just now?" she demanded, looking both accusatory and a little hurt.

"No, I don't think so," I said, feeling squirmingly guilty, since we always told each other everything... but how could I tell her this, even though I was desperate to tell someone, and who'd be better to tell than her? My brand new feelings were overwhelming me... confusing me... and using her for a sounding board to bounce these feelings off of would have been super nice.

"Fine," she snarked in a way that was clearly not fine, and she stormed off.

I sighed as I closed my locker and headed to class.

My first period class was History, and neither Beth nor Jamie were in that class, since they were both in Psychology.

Twenty minutes into the class, my phone vibrated... so I slyly checked it... I seldom received texts during classes, since my friends knew I wouldn't respond; I was very serious about my studies, and my parents worked, so if they texted that was a bad sign... the last time Mom had texted me during a class was to ask me to come home instantly, whereupon I learned my grandmother had passed... so I checked it. It was from Beth, saying: So sorry to ask, but I need to see you in the cheerleader's change room right now! Please?

My eyes went wide.

My cheeks flushed.

My entire body warmed with excitement.

I shot my hand up and blurted out. "Mrs. Lloyd, may I please go to the washroom?"

"You may," she permitted.

"Thank you," I replied, before I walked out and headed towards a room I'd never been in before. Without pausing my hurried strides, I texted: On my way.

The school wasn't that large, so a minute later I'd reached the door. I looked around and saw no one in the hallway, so I furtively entered, feeling like I was breaking in... feeling both excited and terrified.

Beth was waiting for me right inside the door. She closed it behind me, locked it, pushed me against the wall and began kissing me.

I melted into her.

I kissed her back with the same urgency as she was kissing me... which was way different from yesterday's tender, tentative and intimate kisses.

It lasted a minute... maybe more... before she broke away, when I would never have broken that kiss! It had my entire body on fire...

"I'm so sorry to be so needy, but I just couldn't resist," she apologised, vulnerability all over her face and even apparent in her shoulders, "you just look so amazing today!"

"I do?" I asked, feeling overwhelmed from being targeted by such desperate attention and flattery... since the only flattery I usually received was for my brains or my charity work.