“Not bad, but more importantly, the connection was so perfect that I want to do it all over again.” She rubbed my back. “What I have with you is like nothing I’ve felt in years, Betty. I find you utterly amazing. I crave you. So, no, you’re not an amateur. You’re a fucking goddess.”
I couldn’t believe her.
She shook her head. “Betty, you did what my body told you it wanted. You listened to my words about foreplay, and you respected them. You did things few can do.”
“Oh, same. The whole… I don’t even know what to call that. Was it scissoring? I don’t know. I’m a baby gay, okay?” I laughed, mortified.
She smiled sweetly. “It’s tribbing. Which… scissoring is a square within that rectangle. People call it different things, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is it fucking feels amazing.”
I bit my lip. “Yeah, it absolutely does.”
Mary kissed me, her hand pulling at the roots of my hair possessively. I washers. It overwhelmed me.
Without thinking, I pulled back, focused on her soft brown eyes, sighing, “I’m trying not to obsess over you, okay?”
“You’re welcome to. I plan to obsess over you as much as you’ll let me.”
“Really?”
“Betty, I adore you. Is it not clear?”
“I… I don’t know. I just don’t want to be desperate.”
“You don’t need to pretend to be cool, baby,” Mary said. “We’re allowed to settle into new relationship energy. If anything, that’s kind of the best part of being us right now.”
“So it doesn’t like… bother you? Or does that mean you’re going to text me 500 times a day and when I don’t text back, you will freak out? Because I really like that you have been sweet and not freaked out.”
“I live life on the road—so do you. It won’t be like that forme,” Mary said. “But I’m actually really touchy-feely in person. So, tell me if it’s too much. I just like you a lot and want to be with you.”
I kissed her slowly. “That’s fine, because I gather we’re both a little more effusive than the average Scandi bear. And as much as I adore kissing, we’re never getting away with it in public—it’s just not A Thing.”
“That’s too bad because you’re a really good kisser,” Mary said. “But I get it. Honestly, that’s an idiotic thing with the press, I think.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Who kisses better… women or men? I always ask this impertinent question of bi girls?”
“Oh, uh… women. Hands down,” I snickered. “Some men are great. But, on average, it’s women.”
“If I ever overstep,” Mary said, “tell me.”
“It’s fine. You can ask me any question about men. I probably have an answer. Women, if it’s below the waist, I have zero frame of reference outside of you.”
“And that’s a little sad,” Mary said. “I hate that for you.”
“Uh, you were a hell of a bi awakening, so don’t apologize.”
“I still don’t know how to feel about that,” Mary said.
I sat up slightly and looked at her. “Ms. Jensson, you should behonored. That night at the bar, I finally admitted I’ve always been attracted to women, but… you just cemented that I wanted to kiss one so desperately and that wasnota thing before you. If you’d stayed or invited me home, I would have followed you like a horny puppy,” I giggled. “I’m sorry that’s cringe.”
“No,” Mary said. “It’s sweet and flattering. And… if it matters… I kicked myself for not getting your number.”
“Same, but I was too terrified to ask. Especially since I thought you were just being polite for rushing off.”
Mary shook her head. “No. I had to run. Mymom fell. She had metastatic cancer and the more it progressed, the weaker she grew. The treatments made it worse sometimes.”
I furrowed my brow. “Wait… is this why you wrote ‘Wayside’?”
