Why do you want me to tell you about a first time, Henry? Typical man. Want a gay girl story to get yourself hard, huh?

Oh sure, like it's really going to help your writing. Yeah, that's the ticket. Well, why do you want it to be about her, Henry? There have been several women. Why her?

Henry, be serious for a minute. Friend or not, that's pretty personal stuff you're asking about.

I know that. A first time is special, and different. It's also the most private. Look, I don't really feel comfortable about this. You've known her as long as I have. Why not just interview her directly? You know she has this little crush on you.

No, not just as her "guy" friend.

Because I can read the signs, that's how. Who knows? She might even let you fuck her. (laughs)

All right. I'll do it, but damn it Henry you keep pushing like this and one day you're going to push me too far. Okay, yes I was the first woman who ever sexed her. I might be the only one. I think I am the only one, and it almost didn't happen at all.

Why? Well, partly because she was so unsure of what she wanted and so afraid. That's always part of the puzzle. It didn't help, though, that I was wearing my Brando outfit. You know, the captain's hat, black leather jacket, black jeans, black boots.

Well why shouldn't it be Brando? You know I'm a fifties sort of girl.

Oh cut it out! (laughs) I am not like that all the time. You know I'm like that woman-what's her name?-in the comic strip, the one who's a mousy little thing most of the time, but once in a while takes on this biker persona. No, not "Cathie." (laughs uproariously)

You yourself never would have guessed my alter ego if you hadn't bumped into me at that rave. It just happens that I was butched up nicely when I met her, and she probably took me to be Satan incarnate. Luckily for me she was looking for Satan. Or Lilith.

Why was I attracted to her? Why are you attracted to anyone?

Well, because she reminded me of myself when I first-what? Just a second. No thanks. I'm fine. Where was I? She reminded me of myself when I first came over.

Henry, this life wasn't something I was born knowing about. I was so very normal. Well, I was married, I had two kids, and I was pretty happy. I liked sex with my husband, with Brian, okay. There weren't often fireworks, but it was nice.

Okay, yeah, sometimes there were even fireworks, but mainly I thought I was just one of those women who aren't very interested in sex. I wanted to please Brian because I loved him, and I think I was a good lover to him. I know I was.

No, it wasn't like that at all. Losing him was almost as hard as losing my children. That was the hardest part of becoming me. You know, things are never like you think they're going to be when you're young. (makes a really sad sigh)

He was a dear man. He is a dear man. Let me tell you. I knew I was going to lose the kids in the divorce, and then, bam, he insisted that the decree say that I could see them whenever I wanted to. He went against his attorney's advice to do it.

Yes, and I still see him sometimes, too. We have an odd relationship. It's about as good as it could be under the circumstances, I think. I'll tell you a secret, something no one but he and I know. We've even sexed a few times. Yes we have! But don't you dare tell anyone that or you're a dead sex writer.

I thought we were going to talk about her.

Okay. She was sitting at one of the small, round tables on the edge of the room, not looking directly at anyone but peeking all around. She was dressed in her "oh-so-femme" best. I knew she'd never been to anyplace like this before.

Well, because that's how I'd dressed and acted my first time. I was scared to death, Henry, trying to look like I fit in, afraid someone would hit on me but wanting someone to at the same time. I scarcely talked with anyone, and it was weeks before I went back.

Yeah. (laughs) I know that's hard to believe, but it took me a long time to come out of my cocoon. Anyway, that's what she was like. Not a baby. More like a sad housewife. A little mousy under her makeup and somewhere in her thirties.

You're a bastard, Henry! Yes, I desired her. I told you that. So I said I was "attracted" to her. How explicit do I have to be? But I felt for her, too. I'm not some kind of predator, even in my dykey persona.

Oh, okay, yes, I was turned on by the idea of it being her first time. Who's telling this story, you or me? I also thought I could make it sweet and loving for her, and get her past that threshold.

She was like me in that she was alone and was trying not to look like a newbie. She didn't know anyone, just nursed a single drink and pretended to watch the dancing. You know some woman come in here with their friends, playing "tourist," but then come back later, alone. It helps them get an idea of what the place is like. Not her, though. Not a chance. She had made herself up and screwed up her courage and just came on in. She had to be as miserable as anyone can be.

Because she wanted to make that transition but was afraid to do it. You know, that old approach-avoidance behavior. Henry, for a social scientist you sometimes seem pretty much out of it.

She wouldn't have been there at all if she weren't pretty driven. Trying to become what everyone despises. If she was like I'd been, she was confused about herself and afraid that life was going to pass her by. Trapped. (a pause; her voice becomes quiet, pensive)

When I turned I felt so trapped. I cried whenever I was alone because my whole life seemed to be a fraud.

I began to hate it when Brian wanted sex, and after awhile this became an issue between us. At first he thought it was his fault, then he wondered if I were having an affair. As if... you know it would probably have been better if I had.

Eventually I'm going to have to tell you about my whole coming out, aren't I? Do you always get your way? (laughs; her smile looks too bright to me, the kind one uses to push down sad thoughts)

Well, no, you're not going to get that, but if you did I promise it would be the best loving you ever had. (laughs loudly)

I'll tell you Henry. Yes. But it's a little hard for me, Henry, even though we're friends. Please stop teasing, okay?

Okay, I was in my early thirties and knew next to nothing about lesbianism. I didn't even know if I knew any. I was so naive. Living in a university community, with degrees and political friends and alternative shops and all, it now seems impossible that I would have missed everything going on around me. There was even a little radical-lesbian-feminist bookstore that I walked past all the time, and I don't think I ever paid it any attention at all.

What happened to me was nothing. It was so minor. No one I've told about it believes it could possibly have been the start, but it was.

Remember "LA Law"? Well, I was watching it and saw the episode where the two women attorneys kissed. It was like boom. It just happened. I remember being so struck by it. Everything changed for me right then. You know how people say someone is "thunderstruck?" Well I was.

Yes, I've seen "Ally McBeal" and "Friends." All that lesbo-hetero kissing seems so manipulated, though, for sweeps week or something. "LA Law" was the first of them, and I'd never have believed that it could happen. It took me by surprise. Yes it did. It was like I was thrown up against a wall or something.

I remember everything, Henry. The way I was sitting, what I was wearing, all of it. I watched the rest of the show, hoping against hope they'd do something more. Of course they didn't. This was TV, for goodness sakes. All they were going to do was tease. Nonetheless...

I remember getting irritated when they broke for commercials. I was so turned on that night that I attacked Brian, something I never did, but the whole time we were fucking I was fantasizing that it was with a woman.

No, I don't think I had ever had any desire for women before that. That's the strange thing. Believe me I've thought about it a lot. I must have been ready in some way, but I didn't know I was. It's one of the ways I'm different I guess. I've talked with friends who came out after they were adults, some who hadn't been at all gay before, and all of them went through more of a progression, even had some childhood or teenage feelings, but not me. It was like I was hit by lightening.

Anyway, I couldn't stop thinking about it. What was it like to sleep with a woman? What was it like to feel her body? I had to know more.

I had heard about "Personal Best," with Mariel Hemingway.

No, this was a few years after the movie came out. No pun intended. So I rented it one day when I knew I would be alone in the house. This was before Internet sex became available. That early scene in the movie, where the two of them kiss and then start to make love... I couldn't get enough of it. I kept playing it and rewinding. It was like I went crazy over it.

Henry, I've never told a living soul this, but I started masturbating and coming. I almost never did either back then. I did it over and over. God, my vagina all around my clitoris got so raw that for about three days afterwards I had to keep it slathered with petroleum jelly. This is so embarrassing. Why do I tell you these things?

I rented other movies, looking for explicit sex, and I began searching out books. That's when I first visited that little lesbian bookstore where I first saw a poster for the club. I came here about a week later, because Brian was away at a conference. Like I told you, I basically kept to myself the first time.

The second time was about three months later. I was crazy with hating myself and not knowing about myself and wanting a woman to love-any woman. I had thoughts of killing myself. (she stops talking and puts her face down into her hands for a moment; I'm tempted to try to comfort her, but I think she just wants to be alone with her thoughts for a moment)

Henry, seriously, if you ever told anyone I couldn't forgive you. I couldn't. (she takes a deep breath)

Once I was there I tried to act like I was open to people, but I still didn't know what to do. It didn't matter because in a little bit I was picked up by the most amazing woman. No, you wouldn't know her. She just walked up to my table and said, "Hello, I'm Amy." Just like that.

No, it's not that Amy. It isn't even her real name. A lot of people still use nyms in here. What? No! She wasn't extreme at all. Just because I like to play roles doesn't mean that everyone does.

Okay, I know you're teasing, Henry, but please don't. Not now. I'm trying to do this for you, but it's awfully hard. Just let me tell it my way.

Okay. Okay. I'm not angry.

Anyway, as I said, she sat down, as comfortable as anyone could be, and started talking. That helped me a little. Then, in a few minutes, she put her hand on my arm. It seems so silly now, such a little thing, but when she did that I couldn't say anything at all. It was like I was under a spell. I wasn't completely sure she was going to do anything with me, and I was afraid I might drive her away, so I didn't even move.

She asked me if I wanted to dance. There was a slow number playing. She took my hand and just kind of pulled me up. On the dance floor she took the lead, so it was easy for me.

But oh my God it wasn't the same. It wasn't like dancing with a man at all. She was shorter than me, and soft all around. It's hard to explain exactly what the difference was, there are so many things. They make it completely different. The thing that struck me then, and that stays with me after all this time, was the way our breasts pushed against each other. Even though I was still half terrified, I didn't want that ever to end. I kept pushing up against her, and after a couple of minutes she brought both of her arms down to my waist and just reeled me in.

Oh Lord. (she is silent for several seconds)

I had both arms around her neck, and then she started kissing me. She just leaned over and did it.

No, it wasn't hard for me at all.

That was the first difference from the story you want to hear. In that one we didn't kiss on the dance floor. I did sit with her and invited her to dance, and she said yes. But she was stiff in my arms. When I tried to kiss her she turned her head aside, just far enough so that I got the edge of her mouth, not her lips.

I thought maybe she wasn't interested in me, but when I asked if she'd like to sit down she said 'no' and held on to me. I didn't know what was going on with her. It was much later before she let me kiss her, and she finally did let me touch tongues.

No. I never thought she didn't truly want to be there. Why would she be? Orders from her master? (laughs) She was completely uncertain, scared to death about what she was doing.

Myself, when I first kissed Amy I was filled with pleasure from the start. The kissing was different. Her mouth wasn't at all like a man's, so much smaller and smoother. Not big and scratchy like yours would be. We kissed with just our lips until the song ended, then we stood on the dance floor kissing and sort of faux dancing until the next song started.

You know, I remember the smell of her perfume. It was "Obsession."

Yes, I was. Completely turned on. If I'd rubbed myself on her leg I think I would have come right then.

I didn't care that people might look at us. By then I was in love with her. (She stops talking again and looks off into space, at nothing. For I moment I think she may break off the interview)

When the next song began we danced some more, but mainly we moved on to deep kissing. This wasn't tongues-to-the-tonsils nonsense, but open-mouthed exploring of each other's mouth. And souls. On the floor, bodies squeezed up against each other, everything. I've never had an experience quite like that, before or since. No, I wanted sex. By then I really wanted it, but I could have done just that all night long I think.

As soon as the number ended she asked if I would go with her to her apartment. What could I say? (a very small laugh)

We rode in her car, not too far, and I didn't say a word the entire time. I got more and more scared, away from the club, in a strange car, going I didn't know where with a stranger. She was fine, though, and kept talking as though nothing were going on. When we got there she let me walk up the stairs without touching me.

I don't know how much I can tell you about that. I remember only a little about how the apartment looked. She had antiques, books, old prints. She was a Medievalist. I guess she still is. (her eyes fill with tears, which she blinks away)

I remember things about the apartment in general, but not the details. I remember it was beautiful. I just stood there and she went around lighting candles and incense and a little gas-log fireplace. Did I tell you it was a chilly night? She had a couch in front of the fireplace that she folded open into a bed.

I was watching this but not moving, just standing where I had been when she took my jacket. I wasn't sure I was going to stay, really, but-and this sounds really silly-it seemed rude to leave. Nothing seemed real to me.

Finally she came over to me with two glasses of deep red wine. I do remember that. She gave me a glass and said:

"You've never done anything like this before, have you?"

I didn't know what to say. She could see right through me. I wanted to seem cool, but I was a baby. I couldn't even talk. I shook my head just a little.

"Well, here's what we're going to do: nothing."

"Huh?" I know I said something like that.

"We don't have to do anything. We can kiss a little, and maybe touch each other, like back in the lounge. If you feel brave we can go further."

I didn't say anything, but I remember I almost started crying because it took so much pressure off me.

"Is that okay?"

Of course it was. We sipped some wine and she told me how beautiful I was and how my being so uncertain made me even lovelier. After a bit she took the glasses away and came back and kissed me. I could do that. We kissed standing up in front of the bed, and then she began playing with my breasts through my blouse and bra.

Henry, it was the most erotic thing anyone had ever done to me, I think because it was my first time.