Lesbian Love Story Pt. 03

Falling in love again

Author's Note: These are the opening Chapters of a longer more complex romantic and sexy Lesbian Love Story.

The following Chapter's, of this Series, and the universe it occurs in overall only exist in the mind and imagination of the author. This will be a slow burn, with details that some may find non-essential, but I feel are necessary for the story to flow. If you seek instant gratification, this may not be your best story. On the other hand, if you like a slow romantic story, involving two or more women, you may want to read it through to its climax. [Pardon the pun]. This Chapter contains elements of family life and warm and gentle people. I ask that you please read no further if you are seeking a rather sexy, wild lesbian romp.

Reader discretion is advised.

Applicable Tags: Older/Younger, Virginal, Romance, Female Sub, non-consensual, BDSM, Interracial, Oral Sex, Novel/Novella length. The story is told in the first person.

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© 2023 Arking & RDKing, All Rights Reserved. Duplication of this literary piece without the author's expressed permission for any purpose is prohibited.

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PART 3.

Chapter 1 -- I am Claudette Rodgers,

I was born in a refugee camp in South Sudan. My parents were waiting, seeking asylum in Europe, America, or maybe Australia.

My father was a strong man, both physically and emotionally, he had worked for the government before the conflict began, but now he was in hiding he was just a humble administrator but he knew he had to get his family away. He had to hide during the day with many other men, being caught by the current government would mean certain death, for us all. He came home only in the dead of night. I didn't know any of this of course but the story of our journey to Australia and my beginning helped me stay strong to fight the many adversaries I would face.

My first four years on this earth were to be in this god-forsaken camp. At that time I didn't know any different and the love my mother and father gave me helped to make me the woman I was to become. There were no schools, no medicines, or doctors. The food my parents received came to them from the UNHCR, meagre rations, but we survived.

I was just 5 years old when my father came for my mother and me and we collected all of our belongings and we fled the camp with many others, we were taken in a large truck through the countryside, the rough, noisy, dusty countryside. Suddenly we were on a plane, not a passenger jet, but a big black one, it was cold and bumpy and everything was done in a rush. My father carried me as he ran, holding onto my mother's hand. Then pushing her up a ramp, laughing, crying all at once.

The plane was full of people like us, children crying, mothers wailing, people praying and YES there were some others preying on the more vulnerable. I clung to my father and then my mother out of fear. I fell asleep as I clung to my mother for dear life. She kept me warm, the noise of the plane, and the smell of the people, were terrifying for anyone let alone a mere child.

I'm not certain if it is a memory or if I just recall a story told to me by my parents over and over again. How lucky we were to get out. Be thankful for the Australians they always told me, but never told me why or what they did. When I became of an age to ask why, my Poppa just put a finger to his lips and said ssshhhhh, "Just be thankful Sanjana,"

My earliest recollection of being here in Australia was the peace and quiet, the smiles on people's faces. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel scared. I had never seen so many white people, I just stared at them, pointing at them. My Momma just smiled and said, "Yes, a lot of white people, don't point Sanjana,"

One strong memory I held onto, even until this day. I remember my Momma going to buy some food, she found it difficult as English wasn't her native tongue. I remember the tears she shed trying to buy me some milk. How the white people were so sympathetic towards her and how patient they were, how they helped her, taught her slowly. I heard my Momma talking to Poppa and telling him how lucky they were.

Chapter 2 -- The School Years.

I went to a kindergarten and started to learn English. Momma and Poppa only spoke Swahili at home, even though my Poppa could speak many other languages, and is a very smart man. When I was a child he helped Momma and me to speak English. Soon, as I was exposed to it daily, it became my native tongue, and Swahili was spoken less and less by me. By the time I went to school, I could speak it as well as any other at school, I soon lost my accent, and I went with my Momma everywhere to help her. I was the family's official interpreter by the time I reached high school. My childhood was full of fun, and adventures, it seemed my skin colour didn't appear threatening to any of the other school children. I loved those times apart from the early years.

My Momma started taking me to dance classes when I was seven, it was the freestyle movement I adored mainly, moving like a tree in a storm or those big bulbous cumulus clouds moving in the sky. My arms waved about my head, my body moved this way, then that. I felt free.

I played sports at primary school, cricket, and soccer, I tried Australian Football but didn't like it. Tennis I was good at, and basketball. So many sports, so many choices I tried them all. When I started high school I got interested in athletics, with my long legs, did I mention I had grown tall and slender? Yes, the boys all found me 'interesting'. I was asked out on weekends by several different boys. All were nice and learning about one's self simply by talking about who I was and how I came to be in Australia, helped me as much as it cured their curiosity. My Momma had talked to me about boys, and she knew that boys would be boys, no matter what skin colour they had. She taught me to respect myself and my own body. None of the boys even tried to 'check me out', much to my dismay.

It wasn't that I didn't have any serious boyfriends, I was very popular, but I was the only African in my class, but not in the school. I always wondered why they were so interested in me, but not. Despite what people may think, we coloured girls didn't all hang out together and think the same way as each other. Our skin colour didn't define us, or most likely, I refused to allow it to define me. I mixed in with everyone. I felt no bigotry towards me at all and I certainly didn't feel that way towards anybody else.

I was jealous of all of my classmates, they all had big chests, and the boys loved them. While I had little pimples on my chest. When I spoke to my Momma about it, she told me they would grow, when they were ready. Momma wasn't overly blessed, and she told me my Poppa never complained.

In my final years at high school, I was dating a fantastic boy, Illario Petucci, we were semi-serious and our petting led us both to explore each other's bodies. His hand finally found their way into my panties. I had to wait for ages for him to get up the courage to do it and in return, I did the same for him. Barely did I have his hard cock in my hand when he came, two of three brief strokes was all it took. We didn't get to the stage where he needed a condom, and I was less than impressed by sex at the tender age of 16.

I was talking to the girl crew, those who hung out together, and found that most were already 'doing it' with someone or another. A couple of the girls had several different boyfriends in their final year.

I was less flamboyant than the other girls except Sarah Evansworth. She told everyone she was going to wait for the right guy, for her wedding night. I was surprised by everyone making fun of her. She just dismissed them and called them jealous. She laughed along with them.

One day after the sports session, I was last in the changing room, I was still rather bashful and showered in my panties then changed out of them when no one was around. I was sitting drying myself when I heard quiet giggling in one of the shower stalls. I couldn't make out what was being said or who they were. I moved away and started to dress where I could watch who was in there. My first thought was they were having a cigarette, I got it all wrong. I dressed and waited, I soon heard one of them moaning, and then being told to ssshhh. Soon the moaning began to increase as if whoever it was might be in pain. I was tempted to go and see if they were all right. I poked my head around the corner still not seeing anyone when I heard someone saying, "Yes, Yes, I'm cumming,"

I am not a completely innocent teenager, I knew what 'THAT' meant, I mean many a night I had to deal with my feelings down there. Now I was totally intrigued, who was this girl and how did she sneak a guy into the girl's showers?

More laughter, and some very loud kissing. And a lot of 'Oh My God's' coming from that stall. That boy sure knew how to ensure his girlfriend had a good time. My first thought was, I should get him to teach Illario a few things. I was getting annoyed with him cumming in 4 strokes and me going home to do it by myself.

I didn't have to wait long for the big reveal. I held my hand over my mouth trying not to giggle or laugh. I looked around the corner once again. First I saw the door open and of all people Sarah Evansworth put her head out, I pulled my head back just in the nic of time. I was almost bursting with laughter and was doing my best to hold it in.

I heard their voices in hushed tones. It didn't sound like a boy speaking and it certainly wasn't Sarah. Sarah had this high-pitched nasally voice, just like a cartoon character. I waited until I thought they were gone. I took a sneak peek around the corner and was totally shocked.

I pulled back quickly, I mean I had never seen two girls kissing before.

My heart was racing, I swear everyone could hear my heart pounding away. I stood there back against the wall, panting. Not believing what I saw. Once again I heard them giggling and Sarah saying "Stop it, we'll get caught, behave yourself,"

I stood there frozen, excited, scared and now confused. I was excited, I mean really excited. I felt the moisture in my panties and 'that' feeling in the pit of my stomach when I knew I had to take care of, 'you know what'.

I was panting still, caught in between wanting to look at two girls making out and touching myself. I was about to slide my hand into my shorts when I heard them begin to leave. I stuck my head around one more time, I just saw the rear of Sarah leaving the changing rooms. I had missed seeing who the other person was. I was so curious.

I have to admit here and now. Sarah and I are not close friends. Friendly yes but as classmates, not BFF. So I couldn't just go up to her and blurt out what I knew.

As fate would have it, I didn't have to. I was walking to my next class, maths. I hated maths and for some reason, I could never get my head around the complex problems. I was in deep thought, today we were going to get our term results. I'm not sure what I was expecting to be worse. The embarrassment inflicted by the maths teacher, Mister Sommers on his worst student or the lecture I was going to get when I got home.

So here I was head down, in a world of my own, when I felt a little tap on my shoulder. I looked around and found Sarah walking next to me.

"Hi Sarah," I said with a smile.

"Hi Sonny," She replied. The name Sonny sounded more Australian and even my parents took to it. I got given that soon after I started school Sanjana sounded so unusual my new school friends told me.

"Can we talk?" She asked.

"Sure, what's on your mind,"

"I saw you coming out of the changing rooms after us, I thought I heard someone in there. You're not going to blab are you?"

I turned and looked at her, my eyes sparkling. "I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about," I lied.

She put her arm through mine, smiled and said "Thank you,"

We walked arm in arm to the class, not saying another word. When we arrived Sarah insisted we sit together. Great I thought the maths whiz kid and the class dummy sitting together. Just another embarrassment I was going to have to suffer.

The term marks were not as bad as I thought they might be. They weren't great but they weren't all that bad. C+ Momma and Poppa won't be too disappointed in that.

Sarah was not that happy with her A minus. She thought she had worked hard all term and was deserving of a little bit more. We were discussing both our results and I was desperate to ask her who her friend was. I kept losing my courage but Sarah must have read my mind.

"You haven't said anything. Are you disgusted with the idea of two girls together?"

"None of my business, and no I'm not." I told her, "If you are happy together then whose business is it anyway?" I explained. I pretended to be reading my assessment of the term's work. Sarah leaned in and whispered to me.

"It was Stephanie Peters, you know the Librarian assistant,"

I had to think about it for a second, "WOW, I would never have guessed. She is a lot older than you,"

"Not so much, she is 20 so just a few years older," Sarah explained.

I looked at Sarah my eyes still shining, "Like four years older," I was not so sure why the age thing was more thrilling than them being girls together. Mr. Sommers brought us both back to reality when he called us out.

"Will you two ladies like to share it with everyone, you have been chatting away all class, so go on tell us all what you are chatting about,"

I looked at Sarah and she at me, I smiled and was about to stand up when Sarah beat me to it.

"Sorry Mister Sommers, we were sharing a medical situation one of us is having this month. Would you like to hear the details, Sir?"

"Don't be impertinent Evansworth. Save it for after school, please. Now sit down and be quiet, both of you,"

All the girls in the class had a smile on their faces, and all the boys turned up their noses.

Sarah and I became attached, I kept her secret and she became my first and only BFF.

Sarah was a good student, she loved to research, read, and explore but now I know why she spent so much time in the library. It was a surprise to me that she missed a school day, she must have been really sick. When I got home that afternoon I explained to my Momma that I was going to go and see if she was OK. The short walk to her home took no more than 15 minutes, by the time I got there, it was just coming on the evening and this time of the year the weak winter sun was starting to fade.

I knocked on their front door and waited. No answer. I knocked over and over again. Still no answer. I knew that someone was home I could hear the TV. I peeked in through the front window. Sarah was lying on the couch under a blanket. I knocked on the window, she looked at me and hid under the blanket.

I knocked harder, she shouted at me "Go away!"

I gave her my hard stare which said I wasn't going anywhere. I pleaded with her without saying a word. That look you give someone when you want them to give in to your will.

My puppy dog eyes weren't working so I told her. "I'm staying here until you let me in or your Mum comes home or worse still my Momma comes looking for me. Once she sees you like that, she will break in, you know that right?"

"Sonny go away, everything is alright. I just have a cold, that's all,"

"Rubbish," I told her, "I'm staying until you let me in,"

"Sonny, please, let me be, I'll be alright in the morning," She told me.

I didn't believe a word for one second. "Not moving,"

"You are one stubborn fucking bitch you know," her expletives were emphasised as if that was ever needed. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I have actually used swear words to express myself. Using expletives is a total lack of a useful vocabulary that people resort to in times of stress. Or so my Poppa says.

"Yeah, you keep telling me that, now let me in,"

I saw her drag her weary body off of the couch and disappear out the lounge room door and soon after I heard the locks being unfastened on the front door. She took a peek out of the small gap as she opened the door a little. I figured by the look on her face she had been crying all day.

I put my hand on the door and pushed, but not hard, just to show her how determined I was. I get that from my Poppa I think.

She fell into my arms and burst into tears immediately after I was inside the door. She was inconsolable, her whole body shaking. I just held onto her. It is what friends do in moments like this.

I didn't say a word. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. I just held onto her. Holding her to me, was more in the hope of helping than anything else.

I stroked her hair. That was all I could think to do.

I was whispering to her, not for any other reason than to sound soothing. "Whatever it is Sarah we can fix it,"

Her sobbing was loud and uncontrollable. "No, no one can," She replied in her high-pitched voice.

"Aaaawwww Sarah, what has happened?"

I took her hand and led her back into the lounge room we sat on her couch. She laid her head on my lap, I held her hand and talked quietly to her. "What is wrong Sarah, you are such a strong person, who has hurt you?"

She didn't answer me but asked me "Why are you so stubborn Sonny, you are such a good friend to me?"

I smiled at her, I didn't have an answer. I told her the first thing that came into my head. "I just like you, your honesty, and the way you think about things. I think it is because you don't want to be the most popular girl in school so you just speak your mind,"

We sat there for what seemed like an eternity but it was only a short while. "So what has happened?" I asked her once again.

Her crying had stopped, her eyes opened and she was staring into space. Then in such a quiet voice, she whispered, "Stephanie dumped me when I told her that you almost caught us,"

I froze before asking the silliest of questions. "Why?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "She just said that we shouldn't be in a relationship like this, it isn't right,"

"What two girls?" I asked innocently. It was a silly question.

"No, she said it didn't feel right and that she wanted to stop,"

I hugged her. I told her, "She is right you know, what would happen if you got caught?"

Sarah just lay there and cried. "Couldn't you say something different to that, I loved her, I mean I really loved her,"

"Sarah, I don't know what you are feeling, but just maybe, maybe, this is for the best?" I kept holding her and she kept crying.

I was to find out much later on what it was like to get dumped by someone who you really love.

During high school, I moved more towards the arts rather than academia. My maths was ordinary at best, and science held nothing for me but English I excelled at it, especially the classics. This made both Momma and Poppa so proud. I must admit my A+ for English in my final year was my most prized scholastic endeavour.

I also found I was musically inclined, I learned to play or strum a guitar, I learnt the scales on a piano, and could get a violin to sound, well like a violin and not like a cat screaming in pain. Due to financial pressures, my parents couldn't afford an instrument for me to practice with, so my musical talent lay dormant. Like nearly all teenagers I wrote poems to mysterious lovers. About colours. About the wind and rain.

The teachers in the school's social studies department encouraged me to consider acting as a profession. I had the lead roles in all of the school productions for the final 3 years at high school. They told my parents that acting came naturally to me. I loved Shakespeare, even playing the role of Romeo came naturally to me. As I explained to my Momma it is only acting. She didn't enjoy seeing me as Romeo when I kissed a girl. [And I liked it]