oh. my. god.
miss avarice. has been kissed.
like really kissed.
she had her tongue in my mouth,
and when she took it out
i wanted it back.
this was after she took my shirt off. at the bar. everyone else chickened out. i asked Ica to do it, and she just giggled and said she couldn’t. Mel and Cin didn’t want to interfere. so Ica, meddlesome Cancer. says to Diane.
Wait first let me describe Diane to you. about my height. butch. brown hair. slim but not tiny. i think she’s a bit older than me? butch hands. *ughm* (“my nails are short because I work in construction.” “Riiight… just like my nails are short because I’m a musician!”) She’s a little bit taken. She’s very handsome in a striped polo.
So Ica said to Diane, “Avarice has a question for you” and in my head I’m having an attack of shyness. ahh shit, now I have to say it to a stranger!
“Ica won’t take my shirt off. Will you?”
“eh? that’s it? – you pussies won’t take off her shirt?”
She reached for the hem of my shirt.
“Just the top one! I have another underneath!” I explained. Grinning. Shy
“I know baby, I know”
She pulled the black stretch-knit up, up to my shoulders, up over my head, taking expert precaution not to get my head stuck. She handed me my shirt back and I thanked her. She was topping. I was delighted. Still grinning like a fool, I sat back down at the table.
Sometime not long after that Ica dragged Diane away from the group (which is always a sure sign of gossip). She told her how I was kinda flipping out about my New York trip. How I didn’t want to make a fool of myself by not knowing how to kiss, and blah blah blah. Long story short, she told Diane that she should kiss me. Protests about a girlfriend met a rebuttal about how “teaching” is different than making out. Uhm. I don’t think that’s true. But. Let’s not get into the technicalities, mkay?
By this time my nose was going numb from one very stiff cosmo and one very tall shot of Goldschlager. Ica said,
“Diane’s going to teach you how to kiss”
“Oh, thank God”
Except then, I got shy again and they had to lead me by the hand over to where she was talking to a gay boy at the bar. She put her arm around my shoulder and said, “where do you want to go?” I shrugged. She brought me back over to my bar stool and I sat down. “You’ve never kissed anyone before? Really?” Still shy, I shook my head “no”. She drew her hands up to touch my face, gentle, holding the back of my head, fingers nestled in my hair. She touched her nose to mine. I think I almost lost it right there. She kissed me. Pulling on my lower lip… “How do I know I’m doing it right?”
“You are doing it right” She kissed me more and I couldn’t contain a moan that had been welling up. She pushed her tongue past my nervous lips. This is the part that was new to me. “open up, sweetie.” I did. I wanted it. I savored the texture of her tongue. It was rough and smooth at the same time. I was lost in want but she pulled back smiling and took the chair next to me. “I would kiss you more, but I feel kinda guilty…”
“There are no butches who are into femmes around here, they all just want each other!” (ok don’t freak out, i love two butches together, i just want one for myself!) “Not me, here lemme show you my girlfriend. Femmes are my favorite.” She showed me a picture…
“You are so shy! They told me that you weren’t…” Oh Jesus, my reputation preceded me. “I’m only shy around new people. But once I get to know you…”
“You know I don’t kiss just anybody.”
I danced for her a little bit. She pulled on my pony tail. She ran her butch fingers up my back, over my shoulders and down my arms. I wanted her hands to be everywhere.
“So… do you ever uh… share?” she chuckled. “Oh no, I get in big, big trouble for talking to other girls” I grinned and leaned toward her ear.
“I like trouble.”