The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica (78 page)

Although Marilyn had refused to move in with her, she stayed with Terri most nights. It was six weeks after they had met that Annie, Terri’s best and oldest friend, was passing through
town and came over for a meal.. Terri cooked for the three of them. She had always got on exceptionally well with Annie and she was delighted that she was meeting her other favourite person.
Unfortunately, Marilyn was in one of her petulant moods and at ten o’clock she went upstairs to practise her yoga. Annie and Terri stayed down in the kitchen to talk and laugh and to remember
old times. Fifteen minutes later, Marilyn reappeared.

“Are you two planning on keeping up this noise for long?”

“What noise? We’re only talking,” Terri said

“Talking? You sound like a couple of braying donkeys. If you’re going to make this sort of noise, I’m not going to stay here in future! You shouldn’t have friends here
when I’m here.”

Annie said she’d leave. Terri was mortified. She followed Annie to the door in an embarrassed silence and then went upstairs to have a blazing row with Marilyn. She told her never to dare
be so rude to one of her friends again. Terri couldn’t remember ever having been so angry. But Marilyn was equal to her, insisting that Terri had ignored her all evening in favour of Annie.
They were both shouting and screaming at each other and in the middle of all the noise Terri’s whole body was aching for sex. That evening their sexual endeavours reached new heights. They
had been locked so hard in their favourite soixante-neuf position that Terri felt they had become a single entity. By the time they finished, Terri’s face was drenched with Marilyn’s
sweet juices.

Now Terri felt wet at the thought of that night. Then she looked sideways at Marilyn’s stony face.

The service area was ahead.

“You should be in the nearside lane,” Marilyn said.

Terri signalled and pulled off the motorway.

“I’m going to have a coffee with my cigarette,” Marilyn said, getting out at the service area.

“Okay. I’ll go and fill up. I’ll see you back here when you’re ready.”

She watched Marilyn walking to the shop in her high heels and she smiled wearily at the movement it created in Marilyn’s lovely little bottom.

After two hours of argument and arousal without any satisfaction, Terri was suddenly exhausted; she felt as though she’d been on a sexual helter-skelter. She could see Marilyn in the shop;
she looked as though she were arguing with the shop girl. Terri smiled again. It made her feel better to see Marilyn in a bad mood with someone else.

Terri drove to the petrol pumps, but while she was filling up with petrol, in her mind she began another argument with Marilyn. She often found herself having pretend arguments with her these
days. It was either sex or arguments, real or pretend, there didn’t seem to be anything normal in their relationship. Sometimes, she even imagined herself having an argument during sex; even
with her head between Marilyn’s legs and while she was teasing her clitoris with the tip of her tongue she would imagine herself arguing. Once she had got so carried away with a pretend
argument that she had bitten the inside of Marilyn’s thigh in her anger. It was almost as though sex stimulated the arguments as well as the arguments stimulating the sex. She wished it
wasn’t so.

Right now she was defending herself and attacking Marilyn even more vociferously than in one of their real arguments. She was telling her that things could not go on as they were and that she
was thinking of ending it. Marilyn said she didn’t care because she’d never liked her anyway.

By the time Terri got back in the car, the argument was raging furiously inside her head. But also she was sexually aroused. She couldn’t believe how much the make-believe argument was
arousing her. She had to undo her jeans and put her fingers in to her vagina. She was having difficulty not vocalizing her anger. She continued playing with herself. This was just the relief that
needed.

She was still arguing as she had an orgasm. She collapsed onto the steering wheel. After a moment, she started the engine and put the car into gear. Without thinking what she was doing, she
found herself driving back onto the motorway. Only when she was filtering into the main stream of traffic did she realize what she had done.

“Oh God. Marilyn!”

She felt a moment of panic. Then she laughed. What an idiot she was. She wondered if Marilyn would see the funny side of it. Would she tell her about the argument, the sex or just the
forgetfulness? Maybe just the forgetfulness. She didn’t know how long it would take to get back to the service station. It would probably be half an hour or so. Marilyn would have long since
finished her cigarette and be searching for her. She would probably think she had done it deliberately. She’d be really pissed off. Did that mean she would start an argument?

She put the radio on to relax. She was thinking about Annie, about the long friendly relationship that they had had and the other relationship that they had never. She wondered why they had
never crossed from friends into lovers. They had always got on so well and Terri was excited about seeing her and spending time with her. The only problem was Marilyn. Terri almost wished she was
going to see Annie on her own.

Fifteen minutes later, Terri came to an exit and indicated that she was going to pull off the motorway. There was no one behind her to see the signal; so she switched the indicator off again.
And once she had done that she realized there was no reason to pull off the motorway. She felt quite light-headed at the thought. She wasn’t going back. It was over. The feeling of relief
caused her to laugh.

College Grind

Courtney Bee

Violet liked to joke that I had only been a “kinda” lesbian until college – until the frat parties. Watching all the beer-guzzling jocks hoot and holler like
apes, slurring obscenities and dripping sweat, certainly didn’t enhance my appreciation of the male specimen. Although watching a snot rocket contest from across a crowded room may have
reaffirmed my sexuality a bit, I had always been gay. I remember being on the cheerleading squad in high school, continually volunteering to be on the bottom of the pyramid so that I could feel the
other girls’ sweat-slicked bodies pressing down on me. If I timed it just right I was able to tilt my head as the top rows climbed down, catching flashes of white panties as their skirts
swished about their hips.

Sophomore year of college, my little goddess appeared, smiling at me at our sorority initiation from across the room. She wore a red headband and a simple white sweater that hugged her high,
rounded breasts so lovingly that I was instantly jealous; her skirt was just short enough to make me break out in a mild sweat. When she turned her head and caught me staring she gave me a look
that said she knew exactly what I was thinking – and liked it.

Fast forward eight months: we’re so close you’d have to pry us apart with a crowbar if you wanted to talk with one of us alone. The fact that we live in the same sorority house is
great – we get to share a room and live in pre-marital sin on the university’s dime. For a while we had a third girl sharing our room, but one night she saw our hips gyrating beneath
the covers and the little whistle-blower ran down the hallway and cried “lesbian”. Well of course Tiffany and Cindy and Candy and all those other little bitches threw a hissy fit and
immediately tried to get us thrown out, but the dean gave them a long speech on discrimination and we got to stay.

Most of the girls stopped talking to us, and one handed Violet a bible and tried to get us to go to her youth group. Some were outright malicious, like Mindy, calling us gross and weird and
whatever other small, uncomplicated words her Communications Major brain could concoct. She happened to inhabit the room next to us, so one night after Violet overheard her telling one of the other
girls that the sorority should try harder to make us feel unwanted so that we’d leave, we had our loudest evening of sex yet, banging the headboard against the wall and letting our groans
send her to sleep. Little Miss Mindy went to the dean again, and this time her complaint didn’t fall upon deaf ears. Violet received a letter informing us our “case” was under
consideration and it was possible we might be evicted from the sorority, as we had now been accused of reckless and inappropriate conduct. We shrugged and figured if there was a chance we’d
have to leave the house, we might as well savour our current living arrangements as much as we could. The volume of our nightly groans tripled.

I couldn’t have cared less about the sorority and fraternity party scene, but Violet loved it, so for her sake we went to many a drunken beerfest. By now everyone knew we were dating, and
whenever we walked through the threshold of a big bash the girls would whisper or roll their eyes. The guys, however, had a rather different reaction. They would see us holding hands, navigating
our way through the crowd, and they’d stand at full attention, craning their necks to get a better look. “It’s ’cause we’re both hot,” Violet liked to say.
“If we were wearing flannel and penny loafers they’d be burning crosses.”

The jocks had taken to calling us Betty and Veronica on account of our contrasting features. Violet had buttery blonde curls and soft grey eyes, while my hair was jet-black, my eyes a deep shade
of green. I knew exactly what they were picturing when they stared at us. I usually responded to their leers with an annoyed glare, but Violet was a bit kinder, smiling and waving diplomatically.
The only pleasure I got out of these outings was seeing Mindy’s look of abhorrence when we entered the room. She’d usually be clinging to her jock boyfriend, her little squeak of a
laugh piercing through the room. Her eyes would quickly narrow as we flashed her our best sickly-sweet smiles. Meanwhile, her ape of a boyfriend Steve would gawk at us so bluntly that Mindy would
immediately tighten her grip on his arm. Normally I didn’t care, but tonight her look was so spiteful that it churned my stomach. Her eyes were gloating, and I could practically hear her
thoughts: Soon you freaks are outta here. Enjoy this while you can!

“Come on,” Violet whispered. “Let’s go rustle up some booze.”

We downed a couple drinks, glancing over our shoulders every so often to see Mindy glaring at the back of our heads.

“It’s not fair,” said Violet. “I really liked living in the sorority house. I liked having our own room. And I know you hate this, but I’m actually going to miss
these stupid parties.”

I grabbed her hand, running my fingers over her palm. “This isn’t for sure yet. The dean hasn’t said—”

“Oh, come on, Anne.” She rolled her eyes. “He wanted to kick us out the moment he heard about our situation – you know how diehard Republican the guy is. He was just
waiting for an excuse that looked legitimate, and thanks to Mindy he’s got one. We’ll be out on our asses by the end of the week.”

I thought for a long moment. “You know Mindy’s little boy toy over there is related to Dean Mason?”

“That right?”

I nodded. “Nephew, I think.”

We both turned to look at Steve, who appeared to be enthralling Mindy and a couple of his football buddies with one of his harrowing sports tales. Their “huh, huh, huh” laughs
blended together in a far-reaching Cro-Magnon chorus.

“You know,” said Violet. “Steve actually asked me out during rush week.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You too? I caught the jerk trying to look up my skirt three weeks ago. He said he wanted to make sure I was a thong girl before he asked me out!”

Violet’s fingers tightened around the little plastic cup. “That son of a . . .” She raised her head sharply. “And he’s the dean’s nephew?”

“Pretty sure.”

“You know,” she said brightly. “This could work! This could actually work!”

“Baby, what are you—”

“Okay,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Steve’s made no secret that he wants to see us get it on together.”

“Tell me about it,” I grumbled. “I heard the lacrosse team was putting together a pool to try and get us to Jell-O wrestle.”

“W-well,” she stammered. “You know how you said you were curious about exhibitionism?”

“Uh-huh . . .” I saw the wheels churning and suddenly I didn’t like where the ride was taking me.

“He’s related to the dean,” she said, her voice taking on the tone of a plea. “He can help us.”

“Uh-huh . . .”

“Maybe if we put on a little show for him, he’d convince the dean to let us stay in the—”

“A little show?” I croaked. “What, you want to give the biggest jerk on campus a free peep show?”

Violet stared at the ground. “Well, we wouldn’t let him join in or anything. I know he’d agree to it, Anne. You know he would.”

I couldn’t believe what my girlfriend was suggesting.

“You know – ” I glared. “- I always thought that the element that made our sex so hot was, oh, the absence of boys!”

“We’re only going to let him watch!” she implored. “Just this one time – please, Anne!”

“Why don’t you chug down another beer,” I said. “Maybe if you get a little more inebriated you’ll have an even more brilliant idea – like blowdrying your hair
while you’re still in the bathtub to save time.”

“All right!” she yelled, slamming her cup onto the table. “Fine. I was just thinking about how much I loved you – how I couldn’t bear the thought of us living in
separate apartments after we’ve been so happy living together. If the dean throws us out of college housing everyone will know why. The school will tell our parents, and I don’t know
about you, but mine will try and keep me as far away from you as possible.”

Her eyes were glossy with tears. I felt myself softening, smoothing her hair with my palm.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

Her face was so pained that I felt my resolve melting, even as my fists remained clenched.

“I’ll do it,” I blurted. “Tonight, while there’s still enough alcohol in me to make me overlook the fact that this is insane.”

“Oh, Annie!” She gave me a soft peck on the lips, causing every male within a twenty yard radius to snap their heads in our direction.