To Those Who Wait Ch. 01

"That," I said, "belongs to my grandma. Who is very bald. She helped me do my laundry last time I was home and must've packed up her spare hair." Lisa laughed and looked at the wig.

"Oh my god!" she said, "I have the best idea ever!"

Okay, so two hours later we are at the party. And what you have to understand is that, for 1997, this really was the best idea ever. I mean, absolute mid-nineties comic gold on Lisa's part. It has probably not aged well in the interim, but you to trust me: college students in 1997 loved it.

Lisa already had shoulder-length blonde hair and, after she had told me her idea, she had immediately rushed to my bathroom to style it. I then, as now, had long dark hair. She helped me pin it down so that I could wear the short-blonde wig. I wore a skimpy dress. Lisa had found a sort of suit or something that belonged to my roommate and put that on.

When we walked into the party, we were holding hands. "Hi, I am Ellen. This is Anne. We are lesbians!" Lisa had announced as soon as we walked in. And, of course, the crowd went wild.

Okay, look. What you have to understand about 1997 was the novelty and ubiquity of Ellen DeGeneres and Anne Heche at that moment. Famous lesbians. It had never (really) happened before. And then there was this couple of famous women and they were all over magazines and people were talking about them constantly. And some people were offended by them and some people were awakened by them. Or something. We just knew that we were two (now) blonde women who could get a cheap Halloween costume out of a pop culture event. And, because lesbianism was (at least the time) more than a little bit naughty, we were simultaneously daring and uproarious in our costumes.

It was a big, rambling house rented by like eight dudes (Lisa was friends with one of them). And it was absolutely packed with people in various states of dress and drunkenness. And the masses just sort of parted when we walked through. Everyone turned to look at us. They laughed. They made lewd comments. They got jealous about how much more money they'd spent on their own comments.

And Lisa just drank it all in. She dragged me (willingly) all over the house, never once dropping my hand (except for bathroom trips). She stayed in character the entire time. When we were standing next to the keg, she leaned her head on my shoulder. She made lovey eyes at me. She insisted we always be on the same team, right next to one another, during drinking games. She referred to me exclusively as her girlfriend. We drank and we goofed out way through the party. I don't think I stopped laughing the entire time. I was relieved when the cops showed up at like 11 and shut us down, my cheeks hurt from smiling.

An hour after the party broke up, Lisa and I were sitting in my dorm room, a pizza box spread on the floor right next to my discarded hair. My roommate had gone home to visit her family or boyfriend, or something. And everyone else in the building seemed to still be out at parties. But we had decided that we'd basically already won Halloween. And, I think, Lisa didn't want me to be hungover so she could more easily convince me to come out the next night.

"And listen, I love you," Lisa said, "But you are just flat out wrong."

"Thin crust, greasy pizza is better than thick crust," I said flatly, grabbing a third, floppy slice and biting it.

"The cheese in the crust thing!" Lisa threw back, circling a finger in the air as if to pantomime to me what a ring of cheese might look like. I made a face.

"Pizza Hut? Gag!" I said.

"Oh you are just so sophisticated! Far too good to eat at Pizza Hut because you grew up in the Big City..."

"Yes, Annapolis, Maryland. Two-thousand midshipmen can't be wrong..."

"Some of us from East Shitsville thought of Pizza Hut as a pretty big treat," she said.

"You said the Pizza Hut was in West Shitsville," I said.

"That's why it was such a big treat! Ma and Pa would pull the wagon 'round and say 'the harvest was good this year. So it is on to West Shitsville, children. And God shall provide a thick crust pie!'" Lisa replied and I laughed.

"They have thin crust at Pizza Hut," I said.

"Don't patronize me," she said quietly and I laughed again. I chewed my pizza and sat back against the door to my dorm with my legs out in front of me. Lisa was now sitting cross-legged on my bed, a couple of yards away. I breathed in deeply, my muscles relaxing. This was my favorite thing on earth. To sit in my dorm room, late at night, and bullshit with my best friend. I felt physically warm and wrapped my arms around chest.

"Well Ellen, I think this might be an irreconcilable difference," I said sadly, and kicked my hair across the room. Lisa slipped seamlessly back into character.

"Pizza is exceptionally important," Lisa said contemplatively. But, at the same time, she tossed a half-eaten slice of pizza onto the floor, missing the box by about two feet.

"Do lesbians have to get divorces?" I asked.

"These lesbians do," Lisa said, flicking her hand back and forth between us.

"We will always have Angelo's Pizzeria and Bar," I said, and tossed my own pizza onto the floor next to Lisa's.

"At least the sex was really, really, ridiculously good," Lisa said, smiling. I leaned my head back and laughed.

"For you maybe," I said, "Because I am a...fucking...lesbian sex goddess. But I faked every orgasm," I said. Now Lisa squealed with laughter.

"Heche, I blew your mind every time we had sex! Remember that time in Paris? With the spatula and the jelly beans and the pint of heavy whipping cream?" Lisa asked, clearly just grasping for a bunch of nonsense ideas and stringing them together. Still, as she spoke, she sat up on the bed and looked at me intently. I shrugged.

"I was the one who remembered the spatula! You are a selfish lover!" I shot back.

"You eat pussy like you eat pizza: wrong" Lisa joked. I almost broke out of character at Lisa's raunchy joke. I was, frankly, a little shocked that she'd said that. But I thought it was funny. I had to hit back.

"It's your fault, Ellen. Your..." I almost couldn't say it, "Pussy is like your pizza yeasty and crusty." Lisa's mouth formed a giant "O" and then she rolled backward onto the bed, cackling.

"Gross!" she eventually, said, gasping for breath. Slowly, she managed to stop laughing. Her tone changed, "But we had good times do, didn't we Anne? It wasn't all just...crusty pizza?" As she spoke, Lisa slipped off the bed and walked, slinkily, across the room. When we got inside, she'd removed her suit and she was now just wearing a pair of panties and a loose blouse. I could see her black bra through the white fabric. She walked right over the pizza and then over top of me. She was standing with her feet on either side of my legs, were I was sitting on the floor. She dropped down onto her knees, sort of straddling my thighs. I was still wearing my short dress, our thighs rubbed together. Her body felt warm. She looked down at me, her hair tumbling down into her eyes. Without even thinking, my hands rose up and gently took her waist. I looked up at her, grinning.

"I don't think this is how lesbian's do it," I said, rubbing her waist slightly. She shrugged.

"It works with people who have wangs," Lisa explained. I laughed.

"I think you are misunderstanding what lesbianism is," I said. Lisa pushed some of the hair out of her eyes and behind her ears. I realized that about 90% of the 'people with wangs' who we'd seen that night would have killed to be where I was now. Lisa was so beautiful, and I didn't feel jealous thinking that. I was just admiring her. "How do they?" I asked, not sure where the question had come from.

"Who?" Lisa asked. She sensed I was asking a serious question, no longer just playing, and she started to lift her leg up, to stop straddling me.

"Lesbians, how do they do it?" I asked. Recognize that this was in an age before internet pornography and, despite my life in the big city of Annapolis, I was a bit sheltered. Lisa laughed.

"I don't know, I don't go to Delta Zeta parties," Lisa said, briefly settling back down on her knee. She looked at me for a long moment, and turned her head to the side, "I assume they do like, all the stuff we'd do with guys, short of, you know..."

"Wienering?" I finished her thought for her. Lisa threw her head back and laughed.

"The hopeless romantic!" she said, "Yes, short of wienering. You know, fingers and mouths and stuff. Like rubbing their...you know...together."

"Is that it?" I asked. I mean, in those Bill Clinton sort of days, penis in the vagina was sort of my definition of 'sex.' Depending on your definition of 'was.'

"Is that it? That stuff is great! The best stuff. You haven't been screwed properly," Lisa said in the world-weary way she did when she wanted to remind me that I was younger. I had not, at that point, ever had an orgasm with a partner. So, I suppose, Lisa was probably right.

"I can't imagine doing it," I said, sort of looking down between our bodies. Lisa was so soft, so delicate, my eyes wondered over here, half imagining things I couldn't imagine.

"Doing what?" Lisa asked.

"You know," I said, looking back up at her eyes, "like, putting my mouth on...that..."

"You've had a dick in your mouth, right? Can't be any grosser than that," Lisa said and, I had to grant her the point.

"It probably wouldn't be so bad, really," I said to myself. Without really thinking about it consciously, I felt my eyes roaming over Lisa's body. The swell of her hips, the softness of her breasts, her long throat. Beautiful, "I mean, Ellen and Anne might just like something...softer." Lisa nodded, and I felt her eyes on me as well.

"And boobs are fun to play with," Lisa said, moving her hands up and cupping her breasts for a moment through her shirt. She bounced them twice and I giggled, "Who wouldn't want four boobs instead of two?"

"You could just date a really, really fat guy," I suggested helpfully. Lisa swatted my arm playfully. A little to hard.

"Ouch! Maybe not gentler!" I said.

"Sorry!" Lisa said, and then she reached forward again, rubbing my arm gently now where she'd struck me. Her hands were warm, a little damp. But nice. She didn't stop rubbing my arm. "Some of the chicks I've been with like it rough," she joked, after she realized I wasn't angry.

"Well, you apologize better than any man I know," I said dryly, "I guess if I could just my head around the...sex stuff, I could figure out where lesbians were coming from. I just don't think I'd like the taste of..." I said. Lisa's eyebrows furrowed.

After a long moment, Lisa said, "Can I tell you something?" She sounded calm, but almost too collected. It wasn't a joke.

"Sure, anything," I said. For some reason, I felt butterflies in my stomach. A feeling that was familiar but I couldn't pin down. Not right then.

"Sometimes, like, when I touch myself," Lisa started, and I knew my eyes got wide. We did NOT talk like this, "I put my...like, fingers in my mouth afterwards. I like the taste..." Lisa's eyes turned away. I saw her cheeks get red. I tried to process what I was hearing. An image flashed in my mind of Lisa on the bed in her apartment, naked, with her legs spread, her fingers dipping into her body, then slipping out and moving towards her mouth. I shook the image out of my mind. Still, I felt my body reacting in strange ways. I felt my heart fluttering, my knees felt a little wobbly. Between my legs... I ignored the feelings.

"I never have," I said. I didn't know what else to say.

"Never like...touched yourself?" Lisa asked, shocked.

"No! I do that like...too much probably. Just never tasted my fingers afterwards," I explained. Now my cheeks were red. I could see Lisa's chest rising and falling deeply. I felt the weight and softness of her body against me. I could smell her perfume. I felt so strange.

"You should," Lisa said, awkwardly. Almost like she was just trying to fill up the sudden silence, "You probably...probably taste good too," she said. What a thing to say! I looked up at Lisa's eyes and she was looking down at me. I tried to read her eyes. I couldn't even tell what I was feeling, let alone what she was feeling. I just knew that my nipples felt hard against my tight dress.

"All this talk of sex stuff...I am like..." I started to change the subject. This felt weird. But I stopped Lisa was looking down at me, her hair over her eyes. I could feel the warmth of her body emanating off of her. I could smell her perfume coating me. It felt nice. And that same strange butterfly feeling in my stomach, growing more intense. And then, suddenly, I realized what the feeling was. That moment of anticipation, anxiety, and excitement that I felt right before I kissed someone for the first time.

"Oh man," I said briefly to myself as that realization hit. But I didn't have time to think about what that meant. As soon as I realized what I was feeling, Lisa was making it real. I saw her eyes close, her head tilt to the side as she leaned in, "Oh, yes," I heard my own voice say gently as my own eyes closed and the distance between us disappeared.

Soft and warm. That was the sensation, but it seems so limited to just explain it as that. I just suddenly felt Lisa's lips pressing against mine. They were so soft that they just sort of melted into my own lips, coating me in her warmth. The kiss was firm, but in no way rough. Just...feminine. After a brief moment, I felt Lisa's pillowy lips split open slightly. I heard a low groan erupt from my own throat and I followed her lead. My mouth opened and, instantly, Lisa's tongue was pouring into my mouth. My own tongue rose up to meet it, slick and hot. Her tongue was thick and soft, an it draped across my teeth, rubbed my gums, and then wrestled with my own tongue. I wrapped my lips around her tongue and gently sucked her in, tasting her sweet flavor.

At first, the sensation was just too surprising and overwhelming to process. My mind was just a static fuzz. As Lisa's tongue pressed deeper and deeper into my mouth, it sort of felt like the wet warmth of it was draped over my entire body, coating me in electric frisson. Slowly, my brain began to process exactly what was happening. Lisa was kissing me. And it was...wow. I was confused and anxious, I knew. But those feelings couldn't register. The beautiful sensation of Lisa's perfect kiss just...blocked anything else out.

After a long time (I don't exactly know how long), I felt Lisa's tongue pull back from my mouth, felt it trail across my lips once, before she pulled away entirely. I let out a little mewling noise as her tongue left me, I leaned forward for her, but she was already sitting up. My eyes opened and I saw Lisa towering over me, beautiful. It was now that I realized that my heart was thrumming, that my...nipples were hardened, and that my legs with slick. What was I feeling? Lisa was looking at me with the same shocked confusion.

I honestly think that if, in that moment, either one of us had laughed or smiled or said something like "wow, that was sort of weird," or anything like that that the spell would have been broken. That we would have laughed sheepishly, made fun of one another, and pretended like we weren't feeling anything strange. And, likely, in a couple of days we wouldn't ever even think about it again. But that isn't what happened.

"Holly, are you...wet?" Lisa asked, deadly serious. Her pretty eyes were looking directly into mine. It was not a joke. She wasn't going to make fun of me. I didn't feel like I had any choice but to answer honestly.

"Yes," I breathed, "very." Lisa nodded slightly. She didn't speak another word. She lifted on left leg up off the floor, swinging it back and up off of my hips. Our skin was stuck together slightly and my leg felt cool as she pulled away. For half a second, I thought that maybe I had said the wrong thing, that Lisa was going to retreat back to my bed, disgusted with me.

Instead, Lisa swung her hip all the way over and landed on her ass on the floor, right next to me. However, instead of scooting back so that she was sitting next to me against the door like me, she slipped her right arm around my back, grasping far hip gently. Her head was sort of against my breast, I could feel her breath through the sheer fabric of my dress. Lisa's left hand was resting on my knee, she applied some slight pressure on the inside of my thigh with her fingers. Instinctively, I spread my legs slightly.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Lisa said. She didn't look up at me when she spoke, keeping her eyes on my knees. I knew she didn't want me to tell her to stop. She didn't have to worry. I wasn't going to say a word. Instead, I just nodded slightly and held my breath. I felt dizzy, but I kept my eyes on Lisa's left hand

Given my permission to keep going, Lisa moved quickly, maybe afraid I'd change my mind. Her palm began to slide its way up my thigh, feeling warm and slightly damp. After a moment, her trembling fingers moved inside the hem of my dress. My eyes grew wide, but my legs spread even wider. I felt her fingers touching my soft, sensitive skin. After a moment, heard Lisa gasp.

"You aren't wearing panties," she said in a soft voice.

"My thong was in the hamper. You wanted me to wear this tight dress...I didn't want panty lines," I said, breathing for the first time in awhile.

"Slut," Lisa said, playfully.

"How dare...oh shit!" I groaned. I felt it then. The pad of Lisa's soft index finger pressed against my wet slit. It felt warm and hard. Softer, gentler than when I'd made love to a man. But so much different than my own fingers. Lisa gently moved two fingers at the opening of my vagina, spinning them and coating them in my juices, lubricating. And then, suddenly, she was gone. I let out a little groan as Lisa's hand moved out from between my legs. Why had she stopped? I hadn't told her to stop.

"No, don't stop!" I gasped, just above a whisper.

"Hold on," Lisa said. I saw her hand move out from inside of my dress. In the low light of my room, I could see that her index and middle finger were glistening with my juices. I could smell the familiar scent of my arousal and felt self-conscious about it. What would Lisa think about it?

I didn't have to think about it long. Without saying anything else or explaining what she was going to do, Lisa brought her index finger up towards her mouth. She breathed in deeply. I knew she could smell me. A sweet, delicate scent. Now it was Lisa's turn to groan. I felt my cheeks go red.

But before I had a chance to ask Lisa any questions, I saw Lisa spread her index and middle finger apart as wide as she could. I tilted my head to the side to get a better view and, just as I did so, I saw Lisa's index finger plunge into her mouth. I watched her soft, pink lips press against her last knuckle and, through her lips, I could see tongue moving. I knew that she was tasting me. I heard her moan slightly.

"Oh god, Holly," she said around her finger, "I was right, you taste...of God," she said. I felt my skin prickling all over as Lisa reacted to the flavor of my pussy. My nipples pressed hard against the inside of my dress and I felt myself going a deep, dark red.

"Lisa I..." I started, not even really sure what I was going to say. But Lisa didn't give me a chance. In one fluid movement, Lisa's finger slipped from her mouth and rose up towards my face. My mouth, open to speak, was an easy target. Before I realized what she was doing, Lisa's wet middle finger had plunged inside of me. Instinctively, my lips closed around her, feeling the hard warm of her finger. I realized what she was doing. What I was doing. This was wrong. This was dirty. I grimaced.

And then the taste flooded me. Lisa was rubbing her finger against my tongue, rolling it so that my own juices deposited on it. Sweet, salty, and earthy. Divine. I closed my eyes, and groaned. I didn't care how wrong this was. Or, maybe I liked it because it was wrong. Whatever it was, I closed my lips tighter and sucked on Lisa's hard, wet finger, sucking my own juices off of her and swallowing them down. Soon, every velvety drop of it was slipping down my throat. Lisa's finger was still in my mouth, and I sucked on it lovingly.