Good Girl's Aren't Gay
Copyright© 2010 by Esperanza_Hidalgo
Prologue
Erotica Sex Story: Prologue - This story contains explicit lesbian sex in great detail. It involves a cathartic encounter between two coeds and a college professor. The encounter leaves the professor questioning her sexuality and heterosexual marriage.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Reluctant Lesbian True Story Group Sex White Female Oriental Female Oral Sex Anal Sex Masturbation Teacher/Student Transformation
Today
I can't believe I'm smitten by her. Me, a thirtyish professor of psychology at a prestigious liberal arts college—smitten—of all things, by a young counter girl just out of high school.
"May I help you, Miss?" she asked in an inviting tone. I stood silent and frozen, staring like a cougar. In her early twenties, the young counter girl looked like an angel. Almost old enough to be her mother, I felt stupid.
After the usual pleasantries, I gathered my keys and belongings, heading to my room. Reaching my room, I sighed, waiting for my lover and considering my life over the past year. We took the trip to spend some quality time away from the hustle of academia. I looked forward to sleep, hours of sleep...
and of course, hours of sex.
I've always known I'm gay, but I locked my secrets away at a young age. My parents burned the entire conservative protestant dogma into me like a brand, making it impossible for me to consider any other public option except the pretense of heterosexuality. Good Christian girls weren't gay, and given a choice between heaven or hell, I steadfastly chose heaven.
"Will you marry me?" Damn, I said yes, marrying Bernard twelve years ago in a vain attempt at normalcy.
"What the Fuck!" he yelled. The poor guy, it upset him so when I came out, but at least now we can carry on a reasonable conversation. I'm sure he knew a few screws rattled in my head, and a loony bin waited for me around the next corner. I rarely fucked him, drinking when I did.
Even after masturbating regularly for twelve years, I basked in a public denial, making my mental state a mess. I even tried believing my lies, saying I loved Bernard, but we both knew otherwise. I fooled no one. My body wanted women—my mind couldn't cope with the world knowing a lesbian existed in my body.
No kids resulted from the difficult union. I didn't own the desire for a baby after what happened to produce my only pregnancy. Losing my virginity in a very miserable manner, I feared sex with a male. The hymen breach of that male's penis resulted in a deep wound. I later miscarried the child. The rape left me paralyzed with fear, and I found myself institutionalized for six weeks. Finding Zoloft, and a few years later, vodka, I existed for years in a broken state of equilibrium.