When Sally Meets Myn

I could feel her laughing quietly. Her body was moving and my hand felt every breath.

"Oh I understand you alright. I think that's why I felt you would know how important this place is to me. It was my anchor when my grandmother was alive, and it's still my anchor since she's gone."

I could feel her slight sadness and I hugged her to me tight. Hugging her made my own sadness at thinking about my grandmother less. I flashed to my grandmother sitting next to another grandmotherly woman who looked remarkably like Myn. I couldn't hear their words, but they seemed to be watching and they approved.

I teared up at that thought. A sip of the Irish calmed me down. Myn sensed something. "You OK?"

"Yea, just remember my grandmother."

"Were you close?"

"She was a great lady! She's the one that encouraged me to go to college, and more importantly to make something of myself rather than just go get married. She was an independent woman before it was fashionable."

"Sounds a bit like my grandmother. A Great lady! She would have laughed at being called a lady, but it fit her anyway. She just may not have lived up to society's idea of a lady, but she is mine. Would she approve of you being here with me?"

"I think she does!"

She does? Do you see her often?"

"She is the image I judge many of my actions against. I imagine her reaction and it usually tells me if I am bullshitting myself. It's silly, but sometimes I know I am fooling myself by deliberately not thinking about her, knowing that she would disapprove."

"She was a disapproving sort?"

"No, more of a 'you gotta live your own life' sort. She would disapprove if she thought I was living my life for anyone else. She may not agree with some of the things I've done, but she would support me in my right as long as it was something I wanted. She also believed in learning from your mistakes, and the ultimate mistake was not being yourself."

"So you sitting in a bar, staring at me would be OK with her."

I thought and a mental image of her smile came to me. "She thought homosexuality was silly. Not from the act, but from societies reaction. She thought that throughout history there were people attracted some someone of the same sex and over-reacting did more harm than good. The silliness was in that a gay couple might be missing out on many of the more traditional things, but she also felt that it was their life to live and the rest of the world should just shut up and leave them alone."

"My grandmother was a little more against it. She thought that it defeated the whole purpose of procreation and that I would have to be nuts to be a lesbian. Her real reaction was that she felt I would be making my life more difficult than it needed to be, that society wasn't yet ready to be accepting and that I would have a problem finding a life mate.

We sat cuddled in a companionable silence. She broke it. "Usually the next question is "So you are a lesbian?"

"I hate to disappoint you, but I wasn't thinking along those lines. I was thinking more about my grandmother and how she and yours might get along. Whether you re a lesbian or not doesn't seem to make a lot of difference. I am here with you, not your sexual preferences."

"That's a surprising way of looking at things. Most girls either get excited or freaked out at the idea of being with a 'girl'."

"Do you have a lot of experience dealing with straight girls?"

"The term we usually use is 'bi-curious'."

"Bi-curious, interesting phrase, but I am not sure it applies."

"You aren't curious?"

"Somewhat, but being curious about sex with a girl isn't why I am here." I looked at her, turning her head so we could look each other in the eyes. "I am here to be with you, not because you are a girl, or because I might have some silly school-girl curiosity. I am here because you fascinated me from the moment you walked in and I knew, with all my soul, that we would be together."

"Predestined?"

"Nope, this on-the-fritz-brain of mine wouldn't let you go. I don't know what it means, but being here feels right."

"You've used that term, 'feels right', several tmes, do you always follow your gut like that?"

I thought for a few seconds. "Not often enough! When I do, things usually seem to work out well. Sometimes my gut doesn't seem to say much, but when I have a feeling, I finally learned not to ignore it."

"Now you have raised my curious nature. You looked away, why?"

"It was right after you dealt with that dick-head."

"Oh, the guy who got insulted when I refused his drink."

"Yea, that one and his buddy."

"He was just spoiling for an argument. When I looked at him and didn't offer him an argument, he lost his head of steam."

"It looked like much more than that."

"Back to the original question, why did you look away?"

"I needed to think for a second. The look on your face was frightening. You caught me off guard and I needed to think. Then I turned around and you were gone."

"Yea, that idiot took all the fun out of my evening. I was going to just leave when I decided to talk to you. You really made a couple of my friends nervous. They thought you were some sort of stalker, but I told them you were harmless."

"Harmless am I? That one girl didn't think so."

"Sharon is a little uptight. She is convinced she is in love with me. I like her, I like her a lot when she isn't pushing, but I don't love her."

Myn turned back away from me and snuggled with my arm around her again. "Besides, we always seem to bump heads when we hug, I hate to think of the bruises if we ever actually made love."

I laughed and I could feel her smile. Without warning, she took my hand and placed it on her breast.

I was surprised that I didn't react stronger, but my hand formed a cup and held her breast. I could feel the bra, and the silkiness of the material of her top. I massaged her breast like I like mine touched, gently supporting her, rather than mauling her beautiful breast. Her bra was to thick for me to feel her nipple, but I felt her tense up a little that told me I was doing all right by her.

My own breasts are much smaller than hers and the comparison was almost impossible. My beasts wouldn't fill up my palm; hell both of them together wouldn't fill up one of my palms. My nipples are also small, but fairly sensitive. I love a gently but firm touch, instead too many guys think my small breasts should be ignored or they start tweaking my nipples like they were using pliers. Instant turn-off! Her breast filled and overfilled my hand. It was so amazing to feel the difference. When I rubbed gently up, her whole breast moved up, making a wide motion more than possible. Her breast was soft, without a doubt, perfectly natural, none of the artificiality of a boob job. I wasn't getting turned on exactly, but I could sense her excitement building just a little. This isn't to say I was cautious with her breast. I lifted and gently flattened her breast to the limits of its remarkable range of motion. Myn liked having it flattened and pulled toward the outside. I wonder if her bra material was scratching her nipple?

She stopped my hand and took it away from her breast. She kissed my palm and put it to her face. "I should warn you that I wasn't trying to test you or even to seduce you. I am not sure I did that on purpose or some subconscious decided that my breast needed attention. Whatever the reason if we keep going we are going to make love. I am not sure I can bear for you to have second thoughts in the morning."

"What do you mean?"

She cuddled me again, but kept my hand at her waist. "A sad thing about loving inexperienced girls is that someone who is bi-curious sometimes regret what happened the night before."

"Just like a virgin who regrets being de-flowered, I guess."

"Exactly the same thing. But when you wake up and the sweetness you shared the night before turns into the ugliness of accusations, the pain of rejection, or the disgust in herself that she turns outward to you. It hurts a great deal more than I can stand. I don't think I can deal with you if you might regret what may happen between us."

"Tell me what happened to you."

She moved to leave my side, but I held her against me. I could feel the tears as they flowed down her face, but she needed me to understand this--even as personal as it was, she needed to tell me."

"I foolishly fell for a young lady I met at the gym. We started spending some time together, as friends, and I wanted more. So I opened myself up and told her my orientation."

I held her tight to let her know her courage was admirable.

"She didn't react like so many girls and I set my hopes very high. She asked some intelligent questions and after some dinner, including some wine, we went to bed. Without getting graphic, we had a wonderful night. She was an inquisitive lover, always willing to try something and appeared to enjoy it. We fell asleep very late and I woke up to her screaming at me."

Myn was crying. My self-confident new friend? My potential lover? This girl had hurt her savagely.

"She accused me of taking advantage of her, of getting her drunk. She said the most hurtful things to me, at me, and at lesbians in general. It took a while and a few friends of mine helped me understand. She was reacting to herself not to me. She was frightened in the things she felt and didn't have any other way to deal with them. She probably went out and found the first cock she could to prove to herself that she was 'normal'. I know I didn't coerce her, that it was her and not the alcohol. But, it did hurt so much."

I held her while she let it out. "I feel sorry for that girl."

"What?"

"Not only did she lose a precious thing, your trust and your love, but she will never truly believe that she is normal again. Late at night she is going to remember, and she is going to spend the rest of her life running from her own feelings."

"I never thought of it like that."

"What would you do if she came in right now, into this room?"

"I don't think I can face her. I dropped my membership at that gym because I couldn't see her."

"You know what drove her, and it wasn't you." I slipped off the couch and knelt on the floor, my height still made our faces the same level. I held her beautiful face and asked her again. "What would you say to her?"

"Honestly unless I knew she was sorry for how she treated me, I doubt I would want to see her."

"I bet she has apologized, a million times in her mind. Whether she can face that part of herself is up to her. She has to do that before she can face you. But suppose she has. Suppose she has faced her own behavior and her treatment of you, her lover, how would you react?"

Myn sniffed, her face a little blotchy from crying. "I would talk to her. I think I would still have to know she was OK. But I couldn't let her back into my life. Some of the things she said were too hurtful to be her lover again, even if they really weren't directed at me."

I pulled her to me in a hug. Myn was a good soul! Grandma, and even Mom, would approve!

"Does every straight girl act like that?"

"Oh no, most leave on good terms, but too many never return once their curiosity is satisfied."

"Sounds like a typical one-night stand."

"In some ways, but like anything else, it's a risk. I try and pick very carefully, because it can hurt."

"I know, Myn, when the phone never rings the day after, I always wonder what did I do. Did I take him to bed to easily, did I not satisfy him, or is he just an asshole?"

She laughed again, which lightened my heart. "Asshole, definitely an asshole!"

I hugged her and we laughed together. Who would have thought a lesbian and a straight would feel such similar things. I guess being human is the answer. The question is now where to go?

We fell into that companionable silence as we each got a little lost in our own thoughts. I would love to know exactly what she was thinking, but I think she gave me all the clues. Myn is a lesbian, but she is also a romantic—something a silly straight like myself never thought all the way through. She bares her heart when she loves and she's been hurt, at least once badly. I feel like I should hate the girl who hurt her, but I can't. I honestly feel for the girl because I think I am feeling some of what she went through. I am certainly attracted to her, but how will I feel waking up the next morning. I try and not do things I might regret, but it does happen. I can't promise Myn I wouldn't have second thoughts in the morning. Should I leave or should I stay?

I hugged Myn close again and rested my cheek on her head. Decision time! "Myn, I am at a loss as to what to do. I can't explain how I feel right now, but I know leaving would be the wrong thing to do, but if I stay I run the risk of hurting you. That would be wrong also. I don't ever remember being this befuddled at the beginning of a relationship, that usually waits until the end."

She twisted in my hold, kneeing on the cushions looking intently at me, ignoring my attempt at levity. "Do you realize what you just said?"

I looked at her.

"A relationship. Do we have a relationship?"

I smiled ruefully at her. "I think, to paraphrase a favorite movie of mine, this is the beginning."

"You didn't finish that line, I love Casablanca too. You forgot 'of a beautiful friendship.'"

"I didn't forget. I want you as a friend, but I refuse to define us as just friends."

Myn sat up on her knees. "Do you have any idea of the mixed signals you are sending, baby?"

She called me 'baby', which sent a thrill up my spine. "I know, Myn, I am usually much more decisive. I think you are as well. Why the hell are we dancing so carefully around each other?"

We paused, each doing a mental reassessment. I saw what frightened me--the potential. There was something so fucking RIGHT about Myn, a feeling I always wanted but never found in all my searching. I decided . . .

Myn got up and held her hand out to me. She lifted me to my feet and she led me to her bedroom. I started to get nervous and excited. "Myn . . ."

"Shhh, we have done enough talking. We'll talk more in the morning."

We entered her bedroom again. She flipped on a small light and I got a better look at the room. If I get my own room in heaven, I want it to look just like this one. Cream-colored walls hung with damask fabric, large heavy furniture, and a bed that could sleep six. She aimed me towards the other door. "You first, shower if you want, there is a new toothbrush in the drawer. I'll find you something to wear, if I can."

In a daze I follow her instructions. The shower had a glorious waterfall-type showerhead! After I was ready, I paused to examine myself in the full-length mirror. I suddenly wished for a better body, more hips and bust, even thicker thighs. I really did look like a racehorse, thin legs, muscular flanks, good abs, and a very flat chest. I scrubbed what little make-up off, so I even a little pasty-white. Wrapping a towel around myself, I swallowed nervously and went back into the bedroom. Myn was sitting on the bed, naked.

She looked up and smiled. "I figured I had a 50-50 chance of you walking out naked."

Smiling at her candor. "So did you win or lose?"

"You are here, I am already a winner."

She was irresistible! Then she slid off the bed and stood up. She was even more beautiful now than ever. Her large breasts had a tiny bit of drop to gravity, her slim waist told me that she stayed in shape, her hips so perfect, and I knew she would feel so good in my hands.

She approached me and I was afraid she would tear the towel off. Instead the directed me to a chair in front of her make-up table. She sat me down and started to brush my hair out. "I love long hair, and yours is so thick and dark." She gently brushed it out and started using a low-powered blow dryer to dry my hair before bed. Her hands were practiced and in a surprisingly short time my hair was dry.

"My turn, I don't usually shower at night, so if you want you can do my hair for me in the morning."

She hit the bathroom while I sat there looking at myself in the mirror. Large eyes on a long face; my long hair usually pulled back in a ponytail, it was too thick for a bun. I tried it once, but it looked like something had crash-landed on the back of my head. I looked different with my hair hanging down like that.

Myn came out and went to the bed, still beautifully naked. I doubt she ever wore anything to bed, that felt like her style. She turned down the comforter, and the blanket, leaving us the sheet. It was a nice night; we would be too warm with anything else. She came over and lifted me up, then slowly, one inch at a time, she unhooked the corner of the towel and let it fall to the floor.

She whistled lightly and examined me, in appreciation. My face flushed, half embarrassed and half proud. "You are beautiful, Sally!"

I blushed crimson.

"No false modesty. You are perfect!"

"No way, Myn, I am a bony skeleton." All my life I had been skinny. One a charitable day someone might call me thin, but even when I was a kid and towered over everyone else, boys and girls, I was always skinny. Kids can be cruel, and picking up the nickname 'Boney' did do wonders for my self-esteem, NOT.

"You are either a runner or a dancer."

She actually sounded impressed.

She touched my thigh, tracing the muscle definition. "So strong!"

She did, she really liked how I looked.

She sensed my nervousness and took me to the bed, I slid in first, warming the sheets as she retrieved my towel and took it back to the bathroom. The coolness of the evening made my tight little nipples rock-hard.

She came back in and slid in next to me. Without a thought we fitted ourselves together. It wasn't possible to describe it, but we fit so perfectly, not pressure spots, no one's arm or leg going to sleep. Pure perfection.

She sought my face with hers, and our lips connected. I was expecting electricity, but instead she gently kissed me, making me feel comforted and secure. Then she laid her head on my shoulder and we just slowly drifted off to sleep. Just as I dropped off, I thought about how lucky I was.

Waking up is normally a slow, languid affair, especially when I slept as deeply as I did last night. However a harpy named Sharon had other ideas.

"HOW COULD YOU?" shrieked at a horrible volume. The girl from last night was standing in the doorway of the bedroom foaming at the mouth.

Myn sat up, her face burning in anger and shame. Her hand on my shoulder kept me from sitting up. "Sharon, what are you doing here?"

"I came up to find you, I was downstairs, I waited for you all night and I find you with this skag."

At first I was embarrassed for Myn at the intrusion, but any embarrassment quickly faded into enmity.

"Sharon, there isn't anything for you here, go home."

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND--I LOVE YOU."

Myn's voice ripped across and hit Sharon hard. "You don't love me, you just want me like a child wants a toy." He voice wasn't loud, but its edge could cut skin.

Sharon wailed again and started toward the bed. Myn's voice rose and hammered her. "STOP!" Sharon stopped like a marionette on tight strings. "Go, get out of my home. You don't belong here. Get out of my building and never return." Myn's voice was now as sharp as steel and as cold as frozen hell.

Sharon's hands came to her face and she ran out of the room. Myn looked skyward for a second. "Damn that girl. Sally, please don't leave I have to make sure she's safely gone and that she's taken care off. In her state she might hurt herself or someone else. The stupid child!"

She got up, grabbing the phone extension and padded out of the bedroom. Ten minutes later she came back and sat on the edge f the bed.