But Bree could not say the words.
Not long after, as they waited for a traffic light to change on a walk into town, Lara took Bree’s hand, leaned over, and kissed her gently on the lips.
Kissing Lara felt nothing like kissing the Quad girls. That had always seemed like a dumb joke. This was simply magic.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time we worked together,” Lara said with a huge smile. “But I wasn’t sure.”
The WALK signal flashed, and Bree stumbled backward a bit, something in her insisting that she stop this. Lara began to cross the street.
“I don’t know. I’m just not—,” Bree sputtered. “I have to go.”
She turned and ran up the hill, back toward campus, with Lara behind her, calling out to her to slow down.
“Leave me alone,” Bree shouted over her shoulder. “Just get away from me!”
They didn’t speak again for four days. Bree called in sick to work and skipped the classes where she had a chance of running into her. The entire time they were apart, Bree thought of Lara, missed her, dreamed about her.
Finally, she called her and asked her to meet up.
When they did, Bree said, “I’m terrified.”
Lara squeezed her hand tight. “I shouldn’t have done that. We’re friends and that’s all, okay?”
Bree felt strangely disappointed by this. She had hoped for something else.
For the next few weeks, Bree longed for contact. She shivered when their hands accidentally brushed at the cash register at work. She let her head fall against Lara’s shoulder at the movies, reasoning that she would do the same thing if Celia were there.
Then, one Friday night, they were in Lara’s dorm room talking, sitting on the bed with Alison Krauss singing in the background. Lara leaned over and kissed Bree’s neck gently, moving her lips over Bree’s jawbone and onto her face, up to her lips.
“Is this okay?” Lara whispered.
Bree couldn’t say anything but yes.
As they kissed, Lara moved her hands under Bree’s dress and over her skin, making her tremble. “Take it off please,” Lara said.
Nervous and exhilarated, Bree slid the dress over her head and let Lara unhook her bra. She didn’t know what she was doing. It seemed that this should be easier, more intuitive than fooling around with a guy. After all, Lara’s body was so much like her own.But everyone around her—friends, cousins, hell, even Judy Blume—had prepared her early for what boys wanted. This time, there was no map.
Lara ran her fingers over Bree’s nipples, making them hard, and then down, down into her panties. Bree didn’t breathe. She sat still as a post, feeling herself get wet. Lara kept her hand there, moving slowly, kissing Bree’s neck until she moaned.
“Lie down,” Lara instructed. Bree did as she said.
Lara moved her lips toward her hand, and pulled down Bree’s underwear with her teeth, letting it fall to the floor, laughing.
“Slick move, huh?”
She ran her tongue over Bree’s wet flesh, in slow, intoxicating circles. No one had ever done this to Bree before, and she felt like she might pass out from the joy of it.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Lara, don’t stop.”
After Bree came, Lara pulled off her T-shirt. She wore no bra. Her small, pert breasts looked like two white peaches. She took Bree’s hand and guided it over her body. Bree had never touched another woman’s breasts. Lara’s skin was smooth and soft, like nothing she had ever felt.
“I want your lips on me,” Lara whispered, and Bree took Lara’s breasts into her mouth, one by one, licking the nipples, sucking them hard. Shaking, she reached into Lara’s jeans. She couldn’t help but let out a surprised “Oh!” at the soft hair between Lara’s legs. Her own had always been well manicured, clipped close or shaved off completely, as per her brother’s
Playboy
magazines, her go-to source for what other women looked like down there.
Bree had lost her virginity to Doug Anderson in his
Not long after, as they waited for a traffic light to change on a walk into town, Lara took Bree’s hand, leaned over, and kissed her gently on the lips.
Kissing Lara felt nothing like kissing the Quad girls. That had always seemed like a dumb joke. This was simply magic.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time we worked together,” Lara said with a huge smile. “But I wasn’t sure.”
The WALK signal flashed, and Bree stumbled backward a bit, something in her insisting that she stop this. Lara began to cross the street.
“I don’t know. I’m just not—,” Bree sputtered. “I have to go.”
She turned and ran up the hill, back toward campus, with Lara behind her, calling out to her to slow down.
“Leave me alone,” Bree shouted over her shoulder. “Just get away from me!”
They didn’t speak again for four days. Bree called in sick to work and skipped the classes where she had a chance of running into her. The entire time they were apart, Bree thought of Lara, missed her, dreamed about her.
Finally, she called her and asked her to meet up.
When they did, Bree said, “I’m terrified.”
Lara squeezed her hand tight. “I shouldn’t have done that. We’re friends and that’s all, okay?”
Bree felt strangely disappointed by this. She had hoped for something else.
For the next few weeks, Bree longed for contact. She shivered when their hands accidentally brushed at the cash register at work. She let her head fall against Lara’s shoulder at the movies, reasoning that she would do the same thing if Celia were there.
Then, one Friday night, they were in Lara’s dorm room talking, sitting on the bed with Alison Krauss singing in the background. Lara leaned over and kissed Bree’s neck gently, moving her lips over Bree’s jawbone and onto her face, up to her lips.
“Is this okay?” Lara whispered.
Bree couldn’t say anything but yes.
As they kissed, Lara moved her hands under Bree’s dress and over her skin, making her tremble. “Take it off please,” Lara said.
Nervous and exhilarated, Bree slid the dress over her head and let Lara unhook her bra. She didn’t know what she was doing. It seemed that this should be easier, more intuitive than fooling around with a guy. After all, Lara’s body was so much like her own.But everyone around her—friends, cousins, hell, even Judy Blume—had prepared her early for what boys wanted. This time, there was no map.
Lara ran her fingers over Bree’s nipples, making them hard, and then down, down into her panties. Bree didn’t breathe. She sat still as a post, feeling herself get wet. Lara kept her hand there, moving slowly, kissing Bree’s neck until she moaned.
“Lie down,” Lara instructed. Bree did as she said.
Lara moved her lips toward her hand, and pulled down Bree’s underwear with her teeth, letting it fall to the floor, laughing.
“Slick move, huh?”
She ran her tongue over Bree’s wet flesh, in slow, intoxicating circles. No one had ever done this to Bree before, and she felt like she might pass out from the joy of it.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Lara, don’t stop.”
After Bree came, Lara pulled off her T-shirt. She wore no bra. Her small, pert breasts looked like two white peaches. She took Bree’s hand and guided it over her body. Bree had never touched another woman’s breasts. Lara’s skin was smooth and soft, like nothing she had ever felt.
“I want your lips on me,” Lara whispered, and Bree took Lara’s breasts into her mouth, one by one, licking the nipples, sucking them hard. Shaking, she reached into Lara’s jeans. She couldn’t help but let out a surprised “Oh!” at the soft hair between Lara’s legs. Her own had always been well manicured, clipped close or shaved off completely, as per her brother’s
Playboy
magazines, her go-to source for what other women looked like down there.
Bree had lost her virginity to Doug Anderson in his
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