It wasn’t until I crashed at her apartment for a week while my building was undergoing structural repairs that she admitted she’d never been with a woman but had a crush on me. I almost never let girls “test drive” me, but she was so damn endearing and, well,hot, so I asked if she wanted to kiss me.
“That was your first girl-on-girl kiss?” I gasp when we finally break away. That kiss felt seasoned. It was kneaded and smooth and moist, like baking bread. (Or what I imagine baking bread would be like; I wouldn’t actually know.)
That kiss felt like it was madeon purpose.
She studies my face, her eyes alight, like she’s found the missing puzzle piece that’s been hidden under the sofa for years. She looks like she never wants to stop kissing me. Like she wants todevourme. Eat the entire loaf.
So she does. I follow her lead, which rapidly turns into ripping each other’s clothes off.
With my back against the pillows on her bed, she insists on going down on me first. But once she’s settled between my legs, she hesitates, her brow furrowed. “I thought, you know, because I have the same parts, I would know what to do, but…” She buries her face in my thigh adorably.
I sit up and pull her on top of me, kissing the tip of her nose. “It’s a lot like putting makeup on someone else, huh?”
“Exactly.” She giggles.
“We can slow down.” I give her an easy smile, hoping to take away some of her discomfort.
Rather than back off, she slips right back down until she’s between my legs again. “No. I don’t want to. Will you talk me through it?”
Though Sam’s movements are tentative, she takes my instructions with humility, and soon, she finds her own technique, letting my moans guide her. And when she slides a third delicate finger inside me and curls itjust so, I lose it.
We were inseparable for months after that. After I left for rehearsals forFunny Girl, we talked often, so when I returned to the city, I expected to pick up where we left off. Instead, I’ve found that sometimes she’s available and eager to hang out, and other times she’s aloof and ghosty.
Now, tucked into this corner booth, I’m not sure where we’re headed.
After one drink, Sam’s much more relaxed, and when she slides her hand onto my leg and leaves it there for more than a beat, I take it as an opportunity to touch her back.
“Where’ve you been?” I ask, mindlessly twisting the rings on her fingers. Her usually short nails are long and manicured.
“What do you mean?” When she shifts in her seat, I can’t help but peek at the apex of her thighs, but black tights block what I really want to see.
“You seem distant,” I say as our server brings Sam another dirty Shirley. “You didn’t answer my texts about getting together last week.”
She takes another swig of her drink, nearly sucking it dry. “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry. Life has been so busy. My mom was in town.”
“She was? I would have loved to have met her.” Moms love me.
Head lowered, she says, “Yeah, but I’m not out to my family yet.”
“Oh?” I could have sworn she planned to tell them a while back. “Maybe someday soon, then.” I shrug. The last thing I want is to push her. I understand how hard it is to have one foot out of the closet, and I’d never want to rush anyone’s coming-out process.
“Totally.” She grabs me by the inner thigh and pulls me inclose. “When do you leave for your show? Let’s do something before. Maybe get out of the city? Think your brother will let us use one of his cabins?” Her breath skates across my neck, and she nips at my ear. “I got a new toy.”
Chills erupt beneath my dress. “Yeah? How is it?”
“Dunno,” she whispers. “I was saving it for you.”
Now my goose bumps have goose bumps.
“You’re so generous.” I steal a kiss, testing to see if she’s into it.
Why is it so hard to tell whether this girl is into me? I never have that problem with guys.
Her mouth covers mine hungrily, and the chatter in my head is forced to shut up. She tastes like cherries. It’s a real Katy Perry cliché, but it’s true. When she pulls back a fraction of an inch, I trace the soft fullness of her lips with my tongue.
She releases a moan only I can hear before recapturing my lips and demanding more.
The alarm on my phone goes off, reminding me I have other obligations, and we finally break apart. Sam insists on paying, and with one more kiss laced with the kind of passion that should be illegal, she promises to call me tomorrow.
