tagLesbian SexLearning to Love Myself Ch. 03

Learning to Love Myself Ch. 03

byMountain Rider©

Elain here -- I'm back. Sorry for the delay, but I had to rest my fingers. Typing wears me out, and I needed my fingers for something else. I think you can probably guess what it was.

In response to the multiple queries -- yes the twins are fine. More specifically to answer the one person who asked "how [they] were hanging", the answer is: THEY'RE NOT! They still salute the sun my dear, even though I'm in my thirties now. They've got a bit of bounce to them, but that's not what you asked now was it?

Anyway, I'm going to pick up my story where I left off. If you are new to me and this narrative, then please go back and read the previous two chapters. It won't take long, and then at least you'll know what the hell I'm talking about. I can't say that for four out of six average people, so try to be one of the two.

Confused yet? Excellent.


The last you heard, Angel and I had gone to sleep with our legs intertwined, the scent of pussy in the air, and the glow of orgasm still on our skin. Doesn't that just sound heavenly?

I sort of woke up once during the night, and in my dreamlike consciousness, I was surrealistically aware that Angel and I were embracing tightly. Her enormous breasts were pressed into my own and cyclically compressed together and relaxed as we breathed in our restful state. Our legs were still intertwined with one of her thighs between mine and vice versa with one of her long, long legs atop the stack of limbs. I could feel the smooth skin of her thigh pressed firmly against my pussy and the downy texture of her pussy resting almost against my hip. I squeezed her with my legs and pressed us even more firmly together.

I could just make out her face in the darkness, just a few inches from mine. Due to our height difference her lips were on my eye level, and her breath stirred against my forehead. I remember staring at her lips for a few moments and just being full of her presence. I felt so protected and fulfilled. It felt terribly romantic, and I wondered briefly: Am I falling in love with her? But I don't think I'm homosexual. What's happening to me? Then sleep reclaimed me in its own warm enfolding grasp.


The next time I awoke, it was my bladder that provided the motivation. Angel and I were a little more separated, so I was able to disentangle myself and get up without waking her. My romantic confusion was forgotten for the moment as I relieved myself and then examined my sleep-lined face in the mirror. A quick turn with my toothbrush succeeded in un-paving my mouth, and I began to feel not only awake but human.

Angel was still out like a light when I came out of the bathroom, so I didn't bother to wake her or to get dressed. After last night, I couldn't think of any reason to cover up. We'd already seen all there was to see of each other and then some.

I let my naked self out the bedroom door, closed it quietly behind me, and went in search of a little bit of breakfast. I didn't drink coffee (at that age), so a glass of orange juice and my English homework kept me company as the next hour passed quietly at the kitchen table.

Then I heard Angel stir, rise, totter into the bathroom, and repeat the same routine I had completed the hour before. She eventually opened the bedroom door and poked her head out.

"Good morning," I said.

"Good morning," she responded sleepily. "I just wanted to see if you were here."

"Yeah," I said. "I'm trying to get my English homework knocked out." I turned in my chair and stretched my arms over my head, proudly displaying my naked breasts as I combated the stiffness of sitting in a chair hunched over homework. "I figure if I get it done now, then I won't have to think about it later."

Angel took a long look at my quivering mounds and then walked unsteadily out into the living room. She had also neglected to put on any clothes, but looked awkward and stiff as she moved.

"Are you okay?" I asked. "You look like you're having a hard time getting around."

She flashed me an exaggerated glare and joked, "Thanks to you! I can't believe how sore I am." She walked over and slowly sat down in a chair at the table with me. "I shouldn't have tried to jump right into your two-a-day swimming regimen until I was in better shape," she continued.

"You're in fine shape," I said reassuringly. "Swimming just makes you use your muscles in a new way. You'll get better quickly, I'm sure. Besides, I tried to warn you that you'd be sore -- just wait until tonight. I'll be surprised if you can move!"

"Great…" Angel said sarcastically. "Now I have something to look forward to." She got back up slowly, "I'm going to take a hot bath and see if that loosens me up at all. I'll be out in a little bit."

"Take your time," I said. "That will probably help, and I'll try to finish this up while your doing it. Let me know when you're out, and I'll get a shower then."

"Sure thing," Angel yawned as she departed.

I watched her perfect rear end sway all the way back into the bedroom. Even as stiff and sore as she was, Angel had one of those walks that gracefully swings the hips. You have to be shaped just right for that kind of walk to not to look stupid, and Angel was exactly that shape. It looked so natural and womanly when she did it that I decided I'd have to ask her to teach me. I needed a good dose of womanly charm if I was ever going to balance my naturally abrasive personality. I smiled to myself as I thought about that, and then returned to my English homework.

Eventually I finished everything that I needed to do and still hadn't seen Angel come out of the bath. The clock on the stove showed that over an hour had passed, and surely she couldn't have been in the tub for that long. The hot water wouldn't have lasted that long anyway. So I got up and went back into the bedroom.

The bathroom door was standing open a few inches, so I peeked in and saw Angel fast asleep in the bathtub with a washcloth over her eyes. Trying not to startle her, I knocked lightly on the door. Despite my effort Angel started suddenly, splashed, snorted, and said something largely incoherent about "fixed annuity".

"You okay?" I asked as she looked around bewildered. The washcloth had fallen off her face and plastered itself across the top of her chest. I could see that her nipples were as hard as they could be and that she was covered in goosebumps.

"Uhh…yeah," Angel managed. "I dozed off and now I'm cold. How long was I asleep?"

"About an hour, I would guess," I said as I walked in and then sat sideways on the toilet lid to face her. "Did soaking help your muscles any?"

"It did while I was warm, but now I feel all tight and sore again." Angel rolled her shoulders and flexed her legs as she spoke.

"You should try a hot shower then," I suggested. "The hot water should have regenerated by now."

"I think I will," she said. "Anything to warm up." Angel stood up and flicked the drain lever with her toe to let the cold bathwater out. I watched as the water ran off her chilled skin and dripped from her curves. She was so unbelievable gorgeous.

"Let me know when you're done," I said as I stood up as well and turned to go out the door. "I still need a shower too."

"Why don't you just get in with me?" Angel suggested off-handedly as she started to run hot water from the tap.

I turned back toward her and she wasn't even looking in my direction. I was pretty sure that she meant it just as it sounded -- a way to save time -- rather than anything else.

"Um… okay, as long as you're okay with it," I said.

"Like we have anything left to hide from each other," Angel snorted. "Besides, you've been waiting for me to be done for an hour." Then she climbed in and stood under the spray. "Ahhh… that's better."

I took a deep breath and briefly caught my nervous refection in the mirror over then sink. Then I stepped in after her and pulled the curtain closed.

Now that I'm older and I've seen my fair share of pornographic material, I understand that watching two girls shower together is a common fantasy image. That and pillow fights. I've never understood the pillow fights thing. Anyway, I can see how the shower would be an ideal fantasy situation -- big, bouncy, soapy breasts; wet slicked-back hair; "Here let me wash you now… oh my, the loofa slipped!"; etc. However, none of this actually happened. Sorry about that.

We had hugged naked. We had slept pussy to skin to pussy, breast to breast, nearly breathing each other's air, but for some reason I was petrified to be in the shower with her. I guess it was just because some of my most intense sexual experiences have happened in showers, and here I was watching her perfect femininity undulate in the spray a couple feet away. I just stood at the shallow end of the bathtub and stared at Angel like an idiot while the water danced off her body and the steam rose from her skin. I felt like my pussy was on fire. I wanted her so badly it hurt.

"What's wrong Elain?"

"I think I need to get out and just take a turn after you. I'm feeling kind of claustrophobic. Maybe it's too hot," I blurted and quickly stepped back out before Angel could argue.

I sat down on the toilet lid, which felt mercifully cool to my backside, and said, "There, I'll just sit here until you're done."

"Oh -- okay," Angel said, seeming as oblivious as always. For such a smart girl, she missed the unspoken signals frequently. "I won't be but a minute."

More like ten minutes later, she stepped out in her pink glowing glory and said, "All yours. I'm going to dry off and get started on my Statistics tables while you're in."

"Sounds good," I said and climbed in. I heard Angel leave the bathroom as I washed my hair and soaped my body. Then I couldn't resist any longer. I had to release some of my sexual tension or I was going to go nuts, so I let my practiced fingers go to work on my clit. Inside of two minutes I had a crushing orgasm and moaned my release as the contractions tore through me. Damn! That felt good.

"You wicked girl," I heard Angel purr and opened my eyes to see her peering around the curtain at me and grinning. "I came in to hang up my towel just in time to hear you cum. Why didn't you just tell me that you wanted to masturbate instead of making up the claustrophobia thing? I thought we were cool about this last night?"

It took me a second to recover from the shock of her sudden appearance and my immediate embarrassment. Then a cold wash of fear spread over me even as the hot water ran off my body. What should I say?

"Give me just a minute to finish rinsing off. We need to talk," I told her softly.

A flash of concern crossed Angel's face, but she closed the curtain and stepped out of the bathroom. I knew it wouldn't be fair to make her wait after what I had just said (and not said), so I rinsed off and stepped out no more than ten seconds later. I dried off quickly and walked out into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around my hair.

Angel was sitting on the edge of her bed and patted a spot next to her. Instead I sat on the edge of my bed just opposite her. This way we were facing each other, but not quite close enough to touch. Angel read the meaning in my position and looked even more concerned. She started to speak, but I held up my finger for silence.

"I'll start," I said, and Angel's mouth closed silently. "First off, last night was very cool, and I have no regrets at all. I want to do it again -- often to be honest. Secondly, my discomfort isn't anything that you did or are doing. I think I have a problem though, and I think it's only fair that I talk to you about. The problem is mine though, not yours, so you can shut me down if you don't want to hear it."

Angel's expression softened slightly when I acquitted her (so to speak), but she leaned in toward me, rested her elbows on her knees, and said, "What is it? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

For the record, I would like to note that this declaration was made all the more difficult by the very fact that my best friend was sitting across from me, naked, with her knees apart, and affording me an excellent view of her pussy through the space between her giant swaying breasts. Just so you, the reader, know this.

"I'm confused about my sexuality."

"In what way?" Angel said very seriously. She wasn't judging me; she just really wanted to understand.

"I think I might be gay.. or maybe not… or maybe both. I'm really confused, and I don't know how to feel," I said, accelerating my words as they spilled out. I almost never cry, but my eyes were starting to fill with tears.

"Hey, hey," Angel said softly. "Keep talking. No matter what, I'm not going to judge you."

"I don't know what to say. I don't know how to feel, or how I'm supposed to feel."

"Don't worry about 'supposed to' anything right now. Let's start at the beginning and take it step by step," Angel reasoned.

I realized that might be just what I needed. Take two girls who are used to thinking in numbers and formulas, and it's natural that we'd need to step through any problem logically to try to find the pattern in it. Then again, this wasn't a logical type of problem.

"Why do you think you might be gay or bisexual?" Angel began.

"Bisexual?" I asked, still choking back the floodgates. I didn't know the word.

"Yeah, sexually attracted to both men and women. It may even be as common as homosexuality -- I don't know -- but it's certainly not something new."

"I deduced the meaning, but I didn't know there was a term for it," I said. My tears were momentarily stayed, as my rational mind fought for control. I was silent for a moment until I realized Angel was waiting on me to continue.

"Well, why do you think you might be gay or bisexual?" Angel asked again, returning to the point.

And then the tears did fall, but at least they fell gently. I started at my first sexual experiences, and Angel just listened and nodded here and there.

"When I first started to masturbate, which wasn't that long ago, I used to do it in front of the mirror. I still love to do it that way if I get the chance. In the beginning it was a way to connect with myself -- to 'learn to love myself'. That's what I was supposed to do for some of my therapy, and in a very literal sense I learned to make love to myself.

"It sounds totally narcissistic, but I love to watch myself. When I'm fucking myself in front of the mirror though, it's like the reflection isn't really me. It's as if I'm watching this really sexy stranger get herself off, and it makes me cum too. She's so beautiful and free and unafraid to take what she wants, and I love her.

"Then one time right before I moved here, I was masturbating in the shower at the gym at home -- I used to do that a lot -- and I found out that there was this girl who had been watching me. She would sneak in when I was doing it in the shower, watch me, and masturbate too. Anyway, she revealed herself to me the night before I moved away.

"She was sitting on the floor in the entrance to the shower room, completely naked, and had her fingers inside herself. I stumbled onto her just as she was cumming, and it was one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. She was very beautiful -- covered in steam from the shower, small breasts with big hard nipples, and her pussy was completely shaved. She had these really big eyes and full lips like a model, and when she looked up at me there was this intense expression of fear and want written all over her face. I remember seeing her pussy clench and her clit throb as she pulled her fingers out.

"She told me that she had been watching me and masturbating for a week and that she wanted me to know this and to see her before I left. It was like she was thanking me in some strange way, but what is marked in my mind forever is the image of this beautiful, naked, vulnerable, girl staring up at me with her fingers in her bare pussy and wanting me… wanting to see me, wanting to share herself with me, and… and I think wanting to touch me. I can't get her out of my head, and now I think that might be what I was always doing with myself in the mirror. I think I want to have sex with a girl.

"On the flip side to all that, an equally powerful memory is when I spied on those three swimmers. I came right there in the locker while the guy with the big cock was pulling on it only ten feet away. I came again later thinking about it and thinking about him masturbating while thinking of me. So I know I'm attracted to boys too."

Angel held up her finger to pause me for a second, "Can I ask a question?"

I sniffed and wiped my eyes. "Sure. Straight talk only right? I mean obviously?" I answered and tried to smile.

Angel smiled her natural radiant smile, "Rules of the house. Anyway, what do you normally think about or fantasize about when you masturbate?"

"Well, like I said, if I'm in front of the mirror I kind of fantasize about myself -- or rather the girl in the mirror. When I'm not, I sometimes just concentrate on how it feels. Other times I think about sex scenes I've seen in movies, or the swimmer boys, or the girl in the shower."

"So it's a completely mixed bag," Angel said.

"Yeah, but now it's a lot more complicated." I said and started to cry again.

"I know where you're heading," Angel said gently, "but you need to go ahead and express it. Don't be afraid."

"I -- I am afraid!" I said.

"I know, I know," Angel said. "I'm telling you not to be."

"I fantasize about you now. I want you; and to be there in the shower with you brought back the memories of that other girl; and all the times I've masturbated in the shower; and it was just too much; and I -- I think I'm falling in love with you," I said all in a rush.

I put my face in my hands and sobbed like it was the end of the world. Now before you roll your eyes and label me a "drama queen", please remember here that I was only nineteen years old. I had very limited perspective on life, so it really did seem like the end of the world. I was afraid I was going to drive away my best friend.

Of course that's when the towel toppled off my head, pulled my hair as it unwound itself onto the floor, and scared the bejeebus out of me. I had forgotten I was wearing it. I squealed and beat at it like it was attacking me.

"Elain," Angel said chuckling, "look at me."

I looked up at her through the wet hair hanging in my face, and saw that she was smiling at me. She was holding her hands palms up at her sides, and her eyes were sparkling with laughter.

"I'm still here. I didn't run away or freak out or anything. I didn't hear any meteors hit, and the missiles are still in their silos," she said humorously. "Obviously the world didn't end." She must have read my mind.

Then more seriously she said, "It was okay to tell me that, and I have some things to say about it." Her smile never disappeared. "I should have seen this coming, and maybe I did but chose to ignore it. What it comes down to, I think, is that you and I have something you've never had before, and it's frightening and confusing to you."

"What's that?"

"We have intimacy. It's not the same as love, but it's powerful in its own right. That's not to say that you're wrong -- you might really be falling in love with me, but hear me out."

I nodded. The room seemed to have brightened and the overpresent doom of the previous few minutes seemed to evaporate. Angel was still my friend, and she still wanted to help me.

"I think I just fit your defined fantasy." She ticked items off on her fingers as she spoke, "I have a similar body to the girl in the mirror, i.e. you; I'm free; I'm unafraid; and I make you feel good about yourself. We talked about that last night. You feel sexy when we're together. So do I. What it comes down to is that we both are sexy, and we help each other see that and feel that by openly appreciating each other physically. That is feeding into your desire to be wanted. It really turns you on to be wanted, doesn't it?

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