“I don’t think you’re straight, Viola” [FF]

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*I haven’t been able to post about M since she started reading my blog. I have many in drafts, but keep getting stuck. I wondered going back to the beginning would help…*

Alright, maybe a part of me at all times knew I wasn’t straight. I spent a lot of time justifying things when I was younger.

*Don’t all girls watch girl-on-girl porn? Who among us doesn’t make out with their friends when they’re drunk? We’ve all masturbated next to our female friend while watching porn and then make out, right?*

If I’m being honest, I had even fooled around with a couple of girls. I just still wondered of myself as straight.

Until her.

I talk about M like she was a wildcard. She was, but she was fucking clever too. I studied my ass off and she kept up with me in our honors program without even trying. I liked her immediately and we hung out a lot because our classes overlapped, but she was the first woman I knew who was openly gay and not ashamed of it.

As a result, I didn’t bring her around my friends. I didn’t think they’d “get” her. Also, I was afraid they’d pick up I had a crush on her.

*It was the 2000s. Shit was complicated.*

M loved sex and talked about it often. She made sex jokes and openly flirted with me. She also often told me she would never fuck anyone who liked dick, which was apparently lucky for me, because she would “destroy me.”

*She did.*

She made jokes about touching herself and sometimes flirted with men just so she could reject them. She hated most people, but somehow attracted them to her anyway. She loved comic books, children, and cursed like a sailor. She was never dressed remotely appropriately and sometimes wore these very sexy dark glasses that framed her hazel eyes.

I wondered about her a lot when we weren’t together.

I had a male friend who liked men. I once tagged along with him to the unofficial queer house just off campus for a party. I walked in and immediately my eyes went to the gorgeous creature dancing on the table.

M is ethnically ambiguous with hair down to her waist. Her body is almost annoyingly perfect. She has a very tiny waist and gigantic boobs. She liked to wear very, very revealing clothing.

Leather.

She was *at all times* in leather. That night she was in a leather skirt and red tank top with boots that went above her knees. Her hair was loose and wild and she was dancing with a hand in the air, by herself on a table.

Even in a room full of gay men, eyes were on her.

*Upon reflection, I think her overtly sexual nature was a rebellion in itself. I love her for that.*

She caught my eyes and did a double take before she jumped off the table and came to kiss the guy who brought me. “You brought a straight girl,” she said coldly as she looked me up and down.

“Yeah!” My friend said. “This is V. She’s-“

“-I know who she is. What are you doing here, Viola?”

“At the party?”

“In this house? You’re straight, right?”

“Are we gatekeeping now?” My friend asked as he steered us to get drinks.

“I can leave,” I offered.

“No, no. I just think it’s weird because you’re so straight… Right?”

“I… Yes?” I didn’t figure out that she flirted by insulting people. And boy, did she flirt that night.

She did not discriminate between boys and girls. She was all over everyone and made sure I saw it. I couldn’t go anywhere without seeing her arm around someone.

For some reason, it gave me a pit in my stomach…

*Because I was totally straight.*

Finally I got comfortable and drunk enough to dance. I managed to discover the only straight guy in the room and let him grind against me. I felt a hand on my shoulder halfway through the second song and looked back to see her smiling.

I didn’t argue when she pulled me away and started grinding on me. I let her kiss my neck and shuddered when she put her hand on my waist.

“You ok, straight girl?” She asked.

We kissed for half a moment and the room spun from the rush of hormones. I had never been that attracted to anyone who had put their lips on me and it made me feel ill. It’s the same feeling you get post-adrenaline rush where it’s too much to process.

I pulled away and stared at her. She was a little too pleased with herself. “It’s ok, V. We’re just having fun. It’s a party.”

I felt sick. I told her I needed air and she saw me about to have a panic attack as I looked around to see if anyone was watching.

People were.

She pulled me outside quickly and rubbed my shoulders as I caught my breath. “It’s ok, Viola. I do that to girls all the time. No one will think anything of it.”

“You do this a lot? Kiss straight girls.”

“Yeah, I kiss straight girls. So if that’s what this is, it’s not out of the ordinary.”

“Huh?”

“Forget it. Are you ok?”

I stared at her for a while. She really was perfect looking and I was undeniably attracted to her. I just didn’t know what that meant.

“I’m straight,” I finally stated like an idiot.

“You’ve mentioned that.”

“I think maybe I’m just really sexual.”

She snorted. “I figured you were a virgin.”

“I’m… not a virgin.”

“Have you ever fucked a girl?”

“No!” I paused for a moment. “I’ve fooled around a little.”

She eyed me, highly amused by this. “That’s something straight people do. Do you enjoy fucking men?”

“Very much.”

She nodded. “It’s fine, Viola. I’m not in the business of turning people and I don’t date bisexual women.”

This seemed odd. “Why?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been enough experiments before they go back to dick.”

“Oh. Ok.”

She laughed and grabbed my hand. “Don’t look so bummed! You’re not even bi, right?”

“I’m not!”

“Ok! Geez. Are you ok? You got a little pale in there.”

She was really, really gorgeous. I can’t emphasize this enough. I’ve been attracted to a lot of people, but I was uniquely attracted to her on every level in a way I can’t describe. She was only about an inch taller than me, but she had a tall vibe because her personality was so big.

I got wet when I stared at her.

I guess my body changed because she smiled. “I’ll walk you home, V.”

“Ok.”

We walked and talked about surface level things. I don’t know when her hand slipped into mine but I didn’t pull away. I don’t know when I started giggling and put my head on her shoulder, but she didn’t stop me. Eventually her arm was around me, and I didn’t stop that either.

I didn’t even stop her when we passed a group of drunk frat boys who stared us down as we passed, but I got nervous.

“They’re staring at me because I’m dressed like this,” she announced. “People in this state act like they’ve never seen legs before.”

“Maybe it’s the leather mini skirt and knee high boots that get them. It’s hard not to stare.”

She eyed me again and smiled. “Why is it hard for you not to stare?”

“You know you’re gorgeous, right? I don’t have to be gay to understand that.”

“You’re gorgeous too… in a Barbie sorority girl kind of way.”

I was not a sorority girl. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was she wondered I was beautiful.

“Do you watch porn?” She asked.

That caught me off guard. “Yes?”

“What do you search for?”

“I don’t know. That’s very personal.”

“Girls?”

“Everyone watches girl-on-girl porn. What does that matter? All my straight friends watch girls. Men in porn are disgusting.”

“All your *straight* friends watch girls and *men* are disgusting?”

“I don’t know! What’s your point?”

“I’m just figuring you out.”

“You don’t fuck bisexual women.”

“I thought you were straight.”

“Fuck. I don’t know.”

We made it back to my apartment and she smiled as I squirmed underneath her gaze. I was trying to calculate if my very religious roommate could see us from this view if she looked out of her window.

She moved my hair behind my ear. “You’d hate for me to kiss you right now, right? Because you’re straight?”

I bit my lip as I studied her and prayed she would make a move. She didn’t. She stared me down with an unwavering statue-like resiliency.

I kissed her.

It started very slowly. My lips found hers and I let them linger. I waited for a few seconds before I put my hand to her face and rubbed her cheek.

She pulled away slightly. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank god.”

She pushed me against the wall and put her mouth on mine. Her tongue circled me slowly, lazily. Her hands were somehow in my hair as I felt her body push toward me. I then experienced the magical feeling of foreign breasts pressed against my own.

I melted.

Fuck, my whole body went slack and I was suddenly at her mercy. I couldn’t see straight as my shaking hands went to her forearms. I had the sudden urge to touch her breasts through her shirt, so I did.

She let me play with her, squeeze her, and run my thumb over her nipple that grew hard. Finally, I felt her shudder and I couldn’t stop.

I had to feel more.

My other hand went to her other breast and I clumsily fondled her more through her shirt. I felt her stiffen and then shudder, and I wanted to make her body do more things. I wanted to hear her moan, I wanted to see her involuntarily jolt towards me, I wanted to taste her so badly.

Fuck, I needed her.

She put her hand in between my legs and it killed me. I moved with her small stokes and couldn’t get off the wall. If she stopped I was afraid I might not recover.

I had never wanted to fuck someone so badly.

She finally pulled away. “But you’re straight, right?”

“I… M, please don’t go.”

She stuck her tongue in my mouth one more time and licked me slowly. When she reared her head back she smiled at my agony. She put her hand to my lips which were shaking.

“Think about my tongue later when you touch yourself.”

I gasped and tried to speak, but an awkward croak escaped. She started walking away and I cried some sort of protest.

“I don’t think you’re straight, Viola.” She called back as she left.

I ran to my bathroom and threw up. Then I ran to my bedroom and touched myself. I came so fast I barely had time to replay the night, but I did over and over. I spent days getting myself off to the wondered of her. I stalked every photo on her Facebook and checked my phone every hour in case she texted.

She was in my fucking head, and never quite left.

And thus began the most volatile and gorgeous relationship of my life.

NSFW: yes

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