So Natural, So Right

A Lesbian's First Time

Two women holding hands, outdoors, mid section
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The trip was a last minute decision. I was spurred on by some inner voice that had to know. The need for friendship, camaraderie and relaxation were uppermost in my mind, but the need to know was laying just beneath the surface.

I was going to an island off the coast of Florida to meet my best friend, whose face I had never seen. Her name was Katharine, and I had met her during an online chat in June of 1994, a mere month before this trip.

She was 35, and I was 29. She lived in Portland, Oregon, and I lived in New York City.

Within days of "bumping" into each other in the virtual rooms of the system, we were speaking to each other via telephone. We had grown close very quickly because of the similar mental turmoil each of us was experiencing in our personal lives. We began to cling to each other as if we were the only ones on earth who understood each other's pain.

I had an easy flight there, rented a sporty Mustang, and drove the two hours south of Tallahassee to the island -- St. George. I was feeling high, exhilarated by driving fast, playing loud music, and getting closer and closer to a soul mate. It was only when I crossed the long bridge to the island and my stomach started to twist and my palms began to sweat that I knew I was extremely nervous.

The house was easy to find; Katharine's directions were clear and accurate.

All the beach houses on the island were separated from each other by undeveloped lots filled with wild brush and sand dunes. Their house was two-thirds of the way down the road on the west side of the island. No one in the house opened the door when I parked. I slowly opened the trunk, removed my bag, and began the walk up to the front door.

The whole house sat on stilts about 10 feet off the ground, so my walk was up a flight of stairs.

Katharine answered my knock. Her blond hair was tousled from the wind, and her voluptuous body measured close to six feet in height. She was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. I was overwhelmed. Before I could say anything, I was swept into a long, strong hug, and could have sworn she was holding me up as I felt no strength in my legs. I don't remember what we said, I was too excited to take mental notes.

And so began the period I call "facial shock." For the next 12 hours, we tiptoed visually around each other. Apparently this phenomenon is quite common among the online community. Some people never adjust to the person's face and it sometimes ends a friendship. Our eyes flickered on each other's faces and then off again quickly.

That night we went out to the beach for a talk. We walked through the dark dunes, carrying our vodka tonics. Katharine was going through major marital problems, and I had just begun the same rollercoaster ride myself. Not only were she and I convinced that we had married the same man, but we felt a bond of twinship between us. There were many spooky coincidences about us and our pasts that mirrored each other's.

This is why our online/on-phone friendship had gelled so quickly.

I was stirred by being near her, the dark shape of her head enticingly close to mine. Although she did not fit the mental image of her I had drawn based on the one photo she had sent me, I knew I was incredibly attracted. This was a woman I already loved, a special person and wonderful friend. We had both confessed attractions to women and once, we even spoke aloud the furtive notion that we might be attracted to each other if we ever met.

Armed with that knowledge of her thoughts, my body began to think for itself, and it was screaming out to my brain, "Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her!" But I could not act, due to my uncertainty of her feelings for me, my fear of opening Pandora's box and actually kissing a woman, and lastly, due to our timidity around each other that first day.

The next morning and afternoon, we were much more comfortable, perhaps because of our getting drunk on the beach together the night before or perhaps because our feelings for each other's faces finally caught up to our feelings for our voices! Her two children, parents, brother and sister-in-law were sharing the house with us. We spent a relaxed day together, enjoying the lack of activity.

That night she and I decided to venture forth and get a drink at Johnny O's, the local bar on the island. We were the life of that place on that night, laughing and sharing intimate stories.

The bond was complete, and I thought she was one of the most amazing people I had ever met. She looked gorgeous, and had put on makeup for the night, her eyes and mouth leaped out from her face and screamed "Look at me!" And I did. A lot. However, at this point my intentions were still to spend time with my best friend, and knew I could not jeopardize this with a clumsy advance.

We drove home. She wanted to walk on the beach, but as we decided to do that, a storm blew in. Lightening and thunder filled the sky -- we were enthralled. We took up positions on the floorboards of the screened-in back porch to watch the show. The entire house was quiet; it was late in the night. We were witnessing a magical event.

We attempted to recreate the air of camaraderie from the bar, but I found the entire scene far too stirring to concentrate. She and I were lying on the floor close to each other in the dark. Her disembodied voice floated to me, reminding me of so many conversations past and of how much I loved that voice. Her voice relaxed me, told me to trust her.

She chose this moment to ask me what she termed a "potentially embarrassing" question. "Megan," her soft, rich voice floated to my ears, "how do you feel about us right now?" I knew immediately the reference she was making: to that one time we had spoken about our potential attraction for each other.

After a thoughtful pause, my response was, "Very aroused." At those words, she said she wished we could hold each other that night, and wanted to feel that we were able to do that. The thought drove me wild, but I said rather shakily, "I think we can do that."

She said next, "I want to touch you." She moved her body, ever so slightly, a few inches towards me. Her hand touched my hair at the hairline and stroked backwards. It felt like velvet on my skin and her breath drifted warmly over my face. Her knee touched my left thigh. I felt electric currents running up my spine from that knee, and the hand was making me lose my breath. When her lips touched my forehead, I began to throb hard between my legs. I let out a shaky breath, and felt my body tremble. She felt it too, and said, "Are you okay? I don't want to do anything that would upset you, Megan. We can stop if you want."

"I'm okay, I'm just very excited by you," I replied. "I don't want to stop. I've thought of this happening for a long time." I groaned softly, and moved in close to her, turning sideways to face her, my right arm curving around her back. This made me tremble even more. I felt so elated that this was happening, so fearful too that it would not live up to the fantasies about us I had been having, but mostly I felt weak from wanting her.

Her kisses fell all over my face, and her free hand began to roam my body. I was stroking her back and receiving her caresses with a kind of frozen ecstasy. When her hands reached my breasts, my intake of breath must have been as loud as the thunder outside. At this point, I moved my face to hers and our lips touched. So gently, so sweetly, we explored each other's mouths. My hands were on her breasts, so soft and large. She pulled her blouse up and I buried my face between those beautiful breasts. Her hand was reaching between my legs, touching me, between a layer or two of my clothing. I could hear her intake of breath when she discovered how much I wanted her, and she said, "I want to taste you."

My God, I had never heard anyone say those words to me before. Of all the men I had been with, none had expressed such a desire. I whispered to her that we should go to bed, and resume this in a softer place.

She said we would have to be quieter inside, and I said I could handle it. She confessed not being sure how quiet she could be, but that she would try.

We rose slowly, nervously almost, as we took those steps towards a place where we knew there would be no turning back. After tonight, our lives and feelings about each other, our marriages, and ourselves would change.

I gladly took those steps, wanting her so much, wanting to experience true feminine lovemaking with my best friend. I think she was not looking back either.

When we reached the bedroom, we paused awkwardly for a moment, then she held out her wonderful long arms, and I walked into them. My head fit perfectly in the hollow between her neck and breasts, and I nuzzled there. We began kissing again, as we moved to the bed and laid down. I laid on top of her warm soft body. I held her face cherishingly and kissed her deeply, while her hands caressed me all over.

Then, the most erotic thing happened. Sweet words began emerging from her lips, whispering to me how beautiful my body was, how gorgeous my breasts were, and how my skin was so soft. This verbalness was so unlike anything I had ever experienced, and it had been something I had dreamed about. How had she known?

She held me, and later I shifted so that we were lying side by side. Soon she was sleeping quietly in my arms. Unfortunately, I could not sleep because I felt that an earth shattering event had just happened in my life. Something that felt so natural and so right had just changed the way I viewed my sexual identity, my marriage, and Katharine.

I would never be the same.

When I left Florida four days later, I began to tell this story to all my friends. I told my husband, and he left. I told my three brothers, and they were quietly skeptical. But most of all, I told myself that I had finally found happiness in the arms of a woman.

At Katharine's encouragement, I began dating in New York City. I enjoyed meeting and sleeping with a variety of women, but my heart remained Katharine's. Her marriage also ended, and she moved on to create her own life. Finally, after almost a year of a turbulent long-distance relationship and short intense trips to see each other, I decided to move to Portland. I needed to know what she and I could be if we were in the same place and could explore our relationship. Nine months after my arrival, our feelings and goals finally gelled and we have begun nurturing a serious relationship, based on the fateful meeting almost two years ago.

But most of all, based on our sureness of who we are now, and who we want to be with.

Published in , November 1996, by Alyson Publications. Reprinted with permission from the author.