Copyright© 2005 by Carlos Malenkov
I've always loved Keirin. We've been inseparable for as long as we've known each other. She won my heart in the instant that I first saw those flashing eyes and that warm smile. There she was, sitting on the teeter-totter in the school playground. We were both in the third grade.
Sure, the other kids poked fun at us. Boys weren't supposed to like girls, and most certainly not vice-versa. The grownups were relatively tolerant, smugly certain that this was something both of us would outgrow. Just a normal stage of development.
But we didn't outgrow it.
We had been best friends for years. Years of snickering and sly whispering behind our backs. Years of petty harassment by teachers and Morality Monitors. Opposite-sex friendship in adolescence inevitably leads to illicit sex, don't you know? And: hey, lookit them dirty perverts!
When we finally did become lovers, it was almost by accident. The details of hetero sex may be whispered in lavatories and are the material of dirty jokes, but you certainly can't find anything about it in books. Well, not in books sold over the counter, anyhow. But, when the time comes, you somehow find a way.
She had come to me in tears. Her tight little circle of girlfriends -- her bosom buddies, her sources of emotional support -- had abruptly cut her off. Rejected her. Shunned her. And, all because of me. Because of our forbidden closeness.
I cradled her head against my chest and let her cry herself out. We were hugging tightly. Unintentionally, my hand seemed to be creeping down behind her back, comforting and caressing. Caressing her behind. Her curvy, enticingly padded butt. Forbidden woman-flesh!
Now she was kissing me. At first gently, then, as if losing control of herself, wildly and with complete abandon. She was sobbing my name. And her hand... her hand was on my... my erection. She was saying something. She wanted something. She wanted me. She wanted me inside her.
It was oh, so sweet. She had guided me into her (somehow she knew how), and our gentle rocking as we lay side by side both comforted and excited us. We were doing something terribly forbidden, and yet it felt so right. It was a profound expression of our love. And, we could get in terribly serious trouble if we were caught.
"Oh, my gosh! You could have gotten her pregnant! Not to mention... "
Gayla is my favorite mom. She's the one I always go to when I have a problem or something to confide. Even if she does get a bit overly emotional at times.
"As you well know, Thomas, carnal relations between the two sexes are strictly forbidden in the Holy Book. Except for authorized reproduction, of course, and nowadays artificial insemination has made even that superfluous. I'm not the squeamish sort, but just the thought of having a male's thing inserted into -- ugh!"
"But, mother Gayla, I love --"
"Don't talk to me about love, foolish child! Love is when you pledge a lifelong commitment to a person, as Cornelia and I have done. Love is when you make sacrifices to raise a child, and believe me, it hasn't been easy. Love is the traditional bond between two people of the same same sex, and that's been true throughout all of recorded human history. As you well know.
I'm as open minded as anybody. It doesn't particularly bother me that you turned out to be hetero. But, look, you've got to take precautions. Not just to avoid getting her with child, but to hide from prying eyes."
"Mom, why do we have to hide our love? Heterosex was decriminalized ages ago in the Great Legal Reform. We're all supposed to be enlightened now. And -- "
"And? And what about your reputation? What about being able to find a decent job after you graduate? Do you really think any respectable firm would hire a hetero?"
It made sense, what she said. Too much sense. I let her talk me into a long vacation trip back east, a trip to a luxury resort, and with all expenses paid. A trip that would give me time to cool down and think things over. A trip that would... put distance between me and Keirin.
Oh, yes, we wrote to each other. But, after a while, the letters got more and more infrequent. I was just enjoying myself too much. And maybe absence doesn't necessarily make the heart grow fonder. And then I met Brent.
.... There is more of this story ...