Michelle Makes a Move

Both of parents gazed at her with polite expectation, and Michelle felt the blood rise to her face. This was even harder than she had imagined.

"Is something wrong?" her father asked.

"No. No, nothing's wrong. It's just ... well, Mom is half right. I did meet someone."

"I knew it! A mother always knows. Who is he, dear?"

Michelle hesitated.

"That's just it. This person is just a friend right now."

"The best marriages start with a friendship," her mother said, then looked at her flushed face more closely. "There is something wrong. He's not married, is he?"

Michelle took a deep breath.

"No, this person is single."

"If he's single, then what's the problem?"

Michelle closed her eyes, unable to cope, then opened them to see her parents looking at her with identical expressions of concern mixed with confusion.

"This person is a, is a woman."

Her mother sat straight up. "A woman? How can you be interested in a woman?"

"I like women. I'm gay," Michelle said in a rush.

"I don't understand. You can't be gay. No one in our family is gay." Her mother turned to her father as if he could wave a wand and make this conversation go away. "Steven. Tell her."

Her father regarded her, his eyes thoughtful.

"How long have you known?"

"That's a stupid question. How long has she known? She isn't gay! A mother knows!"

Michelle sat quietly, watching her mother's cheeks burn red with anger as she ranted. This was just about as horrible as she had expected, but years of experience with furious cops, criminals and members of the public helped steady her. Her mother didn't have a gun and she couldn't send her to jail, she suddenly thought. And it seemed clear that the news had not surprised her father.

"You're not gay," her mother shrieked, as if repetition would make it true.

"Actually, I am. I've known since I was in elementary school. But I didn't want it to be true, so I pretended I wasn't. I thought if I faked it long enough, the feelings would go away."

Her father nodded. Her mother sat on the couch, stunned into silence.

"I always wondered about you and that Hammond girl," her father remarked. "The one you were so close with when you were about 12 or so."

Her mother stood as if launched, then bent over her husband, her flushed face inches from his.

"You always wondered?! You never told me about that! How dare you keep things from me?"

He didn't flinch. "I did try to discuss it with you. You brushed me off, said it was just a phase."

Michelle hadn't thought it possible for her mother's color to deepen, but she went a deep shade of tomato at this new betrayal.

"Don't tell me you support this perversion!"

"Marie, she's our daughter," her father started to say, but his wife didn't hear. She stomped across the living room to Michelle, who jumped up at her mother's approach. She didn't think her mother would strike her, but she had never seen her so enraged. Anything seemed possible.

"I can't even look at you," her mother spat, her fists clenched. "Get out of this house and don't come back till you've come to your senses."

At that, Michelle's father stood and came up behind his furious wife. He nodded and rolled his eyes toward the door. Michelle reached down and grabbed her handbag, noticing that her feet, and the rest of her body, seemed to belong to someone else at that moment.

"I love you both," she said, turning back to them once she reached the front door.

"If you loved me, you wouldn't do this to me," her mother snapped.

"I love you too, honey," her father answered, as if her mother hadn't said anything. "I'll call you later."

"No, he won't."

"Yes, I will. She's my daughter and there's nothing she can do or say to make me stop loving her. Just like you're my wife and there's nothing you can do or say to make me stop loving you."

Feeling as though a steamroller had just flattened her, Michelle hurried out the door and into the serenity of a sunlit summer afternoon. The smell of burgers on the grill hit her as an old George Michael tune spilled over from the neighbor's back yard.

"Freedom!" he sang, again and again.

She stood for a long moment, listening to the joy in his voice.

"Freedom!" she whispered.

How appropriate, she thought as she got into her car. She looked back at the house to see her father looking through the window at her. He gave a little wave. She smiled at him, then drove away.

**

"It's no Wrigley Field," Michelle said, donning the baseball cap a pleasant Boy Scout had handed her, "but it's still pretty nice."

"Actually, it's better than Wrigley Field," Kryssa answered, looking around at the stands and comfortable crowd decked out in Mud Hens caps and shirts. "It's compact, and well planned, and friendly. And you're here with me. That makes it the best!"

Michelle stroked Kryssa's shoulder, feeling a little thrill race through her. The two had planned to take things slowly after Michelle's experience with her parents, but the chemistry between them made that difficult. She was always thinking of something to share with Kryssa, an observation or story or meme, and Kryssa seemed to feel the same way.

"Who's your favorite player?" Kryssa asked as they seated themselves in the shady row Michelle had picked out. Her friend shook her head.

"I'm not at that level of fandom," she admitted. "The sports reporters like knowing everyone's stats, but I just like to watch a good game." She leaned over. "I don't actually care who wins. But don't tell anyone."

"Come on," Kryssa argued. "You have to choose a team. Makes it more fun."

"Not if you lose."

"I despair of you. Baseball love is the easiest kind of love!"

"Love is not a group activity. My heart works on the individual level."

Kryssa's own heart worked a little faster just as a series of echoing announcements made it impossible for them to talk. On impulse, Kryssa leaned in and gave Michelle a quick kiss. A soft look rewarded her. She sat back in her seat, satisfied, then reached over and twined her fingers through Michelle's.

The roar of the crowd as the team racked up seven runs, the smell of hot dogs and popcorn and beer, and the warmth of the summer air kept both women in a happy mood as the late afternoon faded into evening. At the final out, Kryssa stood to leave, but Michelle pulled her back down.

"It's a weekend game," she said.

"So?"

"Wait and see."

Kryssa noticed no one seemed to be moving and a mood of happy anticipation had settled over the spectators. Relaxing back into her seat, she waited.

Presently, a flare shot up and exploded in the sky above them, quickly joined by another.

"Cool!" Kryssa breathed. "I love fireworks."

"They have them after every weekend night game."

"Fantastic!"

As she watched, Kryssa looked joyous, giving her entire self to the experience. Michelle smiled to herself, half watching the fireworks and half enjoying her friend's reaction. She wondered briefly if she were in love, then put the thought aside. Now was the time to live in the moment, not analyze it to death.

Both sighed deeply after the dazzling finale. Around them, people stood to leave, exclaiming over the show and their team's win. The women joined the crowd shuffling toward the exits, glancing at each other and smiling.

"Wanna come back to my place for a bit?" Michelle asked as they got into the Miata.

"You know I do!" Kryssa fired up the engine and they moved smoothly away from the lights and crowd and into the night.

Lulled by the purr of the car's engine, Michelle closed her eyes and sank into a dreamy haze. She had learned conversation was sporadic at best with the car's top down, but she didn't mind. They'd talk at her place. In the meantime, with the wind hitting her face and blowing back her hair, she could imagine she was about to take flight into the starry night. A smile touched her lips as she pictured the lights of Toledo spreading out into a glowing field as she took off, going higher and higher, leaving everything behind except the woman beside her. No mother, no editors, no deadlines -- just freedom.

She must have dozed off, as she opened her eyes to see Kryssa looking at her quizzically, the beam from the streetlight outside her house making a halo of her blond hair.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you."

"Plenty of time to sleep later." Michelle got out of the car and stretched luxuriously, unaware of Kryssa's sudden gaze. "I have a guest to pamper."

"Please tell me I don't have to wear that saggy Rush T-shirt and the yoga pants again."

Michelle giggled. The yoga pants had left exactly nothing to her imagination, and she kind of hoped Kryssa might put them on again. She let them into the house and half-ran to the living room to turn on the clear Christmas lights she had installed just below the ceiling. Kryssa entered the room just as they came on. Beaming, she spun around to see them all.

"This is great! I love them!"

"Every night, when we talk on the phone, this is where I end up after I get home. I love it here."

Kryssa faced Michelle and opened her arms.

"Come here."

Michelle stepped into the embrace, breathing in Kryssa's scent of healthy woman tinged with citrus and relaxing against her friend -- soon to become lover? Michelle hoped so.

Kryssa hoped so too, but neither said a word. They stood for a long time, holding each other until their hearts captured the same rhythm. The taller woman bent down and Michelle turned up her face for a kiss.

Just as with the kiss in her bedroom a few weeks ago, Michelle held nothing back. Her hands slipped around Kryssa's waist, drawing her in closer, even as she opened her warm mouth in a silent promise to give Kryssa everything. She felt Kryssa slide one firm arm around her shoulders as the other hand rubbed her back, up and down, slowly, lazily, creating friction, creating heat.

Michelle pulled her head back.

"Can we sit down? I'm getting a crick in my neck."

"Of course. In the future, I'll only kiss you on stairways."

"No need to go that far." Michelle led Kryssa to a wide sofa that seemed made for love-making. As she sank into its embrace, she realized it probably had been designed with that in mind.

"Wonderful couch," she said, kicking off her shoes and nestling against Michelle.

"My one extravagance. My mom was appalled when I bought it, but I noticed she made a beeline for it whenever she visited."

Kryssa noted with satisfaction that Michelle had managed to mention her mother without anger. Progress, she thought, then turned her attention to Michelle's curvy body. It seemed made for her hands, and she took full advantage, lightly running them all over Michelle, who sighed with pleasure.

They had fooled around for a few minutes on a previous date, but this evening felt different. Kryssa sensed a change in the other woman as she kissed her again and again. Michelle's excitement grew with each caress until her entire body tingled. Kryssa was so different from the men she had dated! No sense of hurry, or dominance, or conquest, just pure sensual delight. Michelle slipped finger under the hem of Kryssa's shirt.

"Mind if I take this off you?"

"Not at all."

Michelle pulled the shirt over Kryssa's head and tossed it on the floor. In the soft light, her lacy bra seemed insubstantial, and Michelle bent her head to kiss each nipple through the fabric. Kryssa moaned, feeling her own body catch fire. She reached down to unzip her shorts and wriggled out even as Michelle continued her attentions to her breasts. They joined the shirt on the floor as Michelle lifted her head to admire the nearly-naked body beside her.

Kryssa looked stunning in clothes. Without them, she looked ... Breathless, Michelle searched for the right word. Devastating? Angelic? Perfect? All of them worked.

Kryssa's hair flowed past her sculpted shoulders to the tops of her breasts. Luminous in the low light, each looked like a living pearl. Michelle had never imagined such pale skin and nipples, and reached out to give them a feather touch. The muscles of Kryssa's stomach rippled, spreading smoothly past her navel down to her mound. The lace thong did nothing to cover the downy, dark blond hair there. Michelle stared in fascination for several seconds, then dipped her head to place a gentle kiss on the lace. Kryssa's scent was much stronger there, and, despite her inexperience, Michelle wanted to bury her face between those long legs, licking, sucking and kissing until Kryssa screamed.

Her own pussy woke up then, pulsing and demanding satisfaction and she gave her hips a little shake so she could concentrate on her work. She heard a low chuckle from Kryssa, then felt her hands on her short plaid skirt, pushing it up around her waist. She gasped, feeling exposed.

"Are you all right?" Kryssa murmured. "This is all happening pretty fast."

"I've never felt better in my life," Michelle assured her. "Are you OK with this?"

"I thought we'd never get here."

Both chuckled, returning to their explorations of the other. Michelle had the body of pocket Venus, Kryssa decided, stroking the soft hips and bottom before her, reaching under the panties to feel what lay beneath. She sat up and tugged at the skirt, helping Michelle out of it and her blouse.

She, too, was breathtaking, adorably awkward and modest, but wanting to learn what Kryssa liked and needed. Kryssa cuddled her before her fingers resumed their expeditions.

How long had it been? A year since Gayle? Too long, Kryssa thought. Her pulse quickened as she pulled Michelle to her, feeling their chests mash together in a squishy collision of lace and soft flesh. She felt a familiar deep tingle and knew the foreplay would have to end soon. She needed this: to touch and be touched, to love and be loved, to give and be given.

"Lie back," she whispered, pushing Michelle onto her back and sliding her wine-colored panties down her legs. She gazed at the neatly trimmed bush, inhaling its unique fragrance and gently pushing apart her legs. "Let me in."

The tender touches melted Michelle's core. With a moan, she spread her legs and looked down at Kryssa's fair hair as it swept back and forth on her delicate skin. She felt the wet warmth of Kryssa's tongue on her clit, and sank back into the couch, closing her eyes to better savor the sensations. The skilled tongue made curlicues, lashed her lips back and forth, up and down, until Michelle slipped into a decadent fog she never wanted to leave.

As the tongue worked its magic, a finger slipped inside her, worming this way and that until Michelle felt all the muscles in her body clench. This was it! she thought, then fell off the cliff. Her pussy pulsed as Michelle drifted in free fall, unable to do anything but feel pleasure. Lots and lots of it.

The next thing she knew, Kryssa was kissing her mouth, pressing her mound against Michelle's as they moved together. Still feeling the aftershocks, Michelle kissed her back, mildly shocked to taste herself for the first time.

Umami, she thought. Not sweet, salty or bitter, but definitely tasty. She slid a hand down Kryssa's side and rolled her onto her back.

"Your turn," she grinned.

"It won't take long," Kryssa groaned. "I'm almost there now."

So much the better, Michelle thought, getting her first good look at another woman's crotch. It smelled divine, but she felt anxious about her abilities. Kryssa's moves had felt so good, and she deserved the same in return.

Hesitant, Michelle bent to the hot and somewhat damp slit, noting the glistening lips. Perhaps Kryssa really was close. She slid her tongue between the lips and felt a little nub of flesh under her tongue. She pressed into it, circling it, playing with it, as Kryssa moaned above her.

"Don't stop," she begged. "Please don't stop."

Michelle didn't stop, but she did add some gentle sucking. She felt Kryssa's powerful thighs clamp around her head and licked and sucked for all she was worth. For a moment, nothing seemed to move. Then she could feel the inner muscles clench and release as Kryssa gave voice to what sounded like a very happy orgasm. Michelle remained in position until she felt the spasms subside. She felt like she could remain there forever.

A pair of hands grabbed her hair and tugged upwards. Michelle obeyed the new command and wriggled her way up to Kryssa's ecstatic face.

"A-ma-zing," she panted.

Michelle smirked, then kissed Kryssa's cheek.

"Not bad for a virgin. I suppose I'll get better with time and practice, though."

"I can't wait," her lover said.

**

"You're sure she wants to meet me?" Kryssa asked for the fifth time.

"She says she does. Dad says she's come a long way since I came out." The fall air felt crisp as they drove down Berdan Avenue under a canopy of towering trees. Michelle always loved that stretch of road in the fall. People had planted those trees along the road probably a century before, knowing their grandchildren would benefit from the beautiful vision.

She turned right at the light. Kryssa still looked doubtful.

"It'll be fine," Michelle said again. "And if she's horrible, we'll leave. Simple as that."

It was funny, Michelle thought, how simple it really was. She had thought she would wither and die without her family's approval. Instead, she had thrived with no one second-guessing every decision she made. She glanced over at Kryssa. Of course, having a loving girlfriend helped a lot too.

They rode in silence, each lost in her own thoughts until they pulled into the driveway. Michelle looked up at the front window to see her father standing there, as if he hadn't moved in the months since her last visit. He smiled as their eyes met and Michelle knew it would be OK.

"That's my dad," she said unnecessarily. "He'll love you."

Kryssa squinted and waved as Michelle parked the car. He waved back. Kryssa thought he looked lonely, but maybe she was reading too much into this.

Michelle fumbled for Kryssa's hand as they walked up the three steps to the porch. The door opened before she could knock and her father's arms enveloped her.

"I've missed you so much." He searched his daughter's face, finding confidence and contentment there, then turned to the stunning blonde standing next to her.

"You must be Kryssa." He shook her hand warmly, then pulled her into a gentle hug. "I'm so glad to finally meet you. Please -- come in."

Michelle led the way through the door, stopping when she caught sight of her mother edging into the room. She looked older, Michelle realized, and slightly -- frail? Had she always been this way, and or was this a new development?

Her mother did not hug her, but she did pat her shoulder.

"It's good to see you," she said. "You look happy."

"This is Kryssa," Michelle said.

A frown passed over the older woman's face, followed by a determined smile that didn't last. Michelle's own smile faded. She had no idea what would happen next.

"It's nice to meet you," Kryssa said, extending a hand. She held the gesture, waiting.

Marie Adams stared at the outstretched hand, and Michelle held her breath. Please, she prayed. Please don't make this ugly.

Her mother took a deep breath. With a hesitant smile, she reached for Kryssa's hand. "I'm pleased to meet you too."