Chapter 3: Lesbian Lockdown

So I embarked on my life as a single girl in New York City. I had a job that paid a decent salary, but a decent salary isn’t enough to get by solo in Manhattan. That meant finding a roommate. Through a friend of a friend, I stumbled into the ideal situation. Jennifer Puckett, or simply Puck as all her friends called her, was a few years older, and she had her own apartment. She had a job as a graphic designer at a magazine, but she didn’t need the salary; she was from money. And she didn’t need to have a roommate; she just didn’t like living alone. We took to each other right away.

She was also gorgeous. She was bigger than me, a few inches taller and a lot curvier. She had shoulder-length black hair, which she usually wore in a ponytail unless dressed up for a night on the town, and hazel eyes, the combination of which gave her a rather exotic look. Her breasts were huge and natural, compared to my tiny A-cups; we couldn’t have looked more different if we tried.

We got along really well as roommates, but like our looks, our personalities and sexualities were quite different. Puck was extremely outgoing, a real extrovert. She was also constantly picking up and bringing guys back to the apartment, two a week or more. She seldom saw a boy more than once, and never for more than a few weeks. Once she brought back a girl.

Like I have said, I am different. I need to get physical first, and only then do I get horny. And I can go for months at a time without feeling the need for a guy. And I didn’t mind her bringing guys back, so that didn’t cause any problem. Puck did say that I could join her for a threesome sometime if I wanted, and while the idea was intriguing, I didn’t feel the need. But other than picking up guys, we did a lot of things together. We became fast friends, and I acquired a wider circle of friends through her.

Then COVID hit, and the city went into lockdown. Fortunately for both of us, our jobs could be done remotely. And for me, the lockdown wasn’t so bad. I did miss seeing more people, but if you have to be locked down with someone, Puck is the best company. We did jigsaw puzzles, baked bread, and watched “Tiger King” like everyone else. And for her part, I think not seeing a different guy every other night was, at least at first, kind of a nice break for her.

One other thing changed. We started talking about sex. I think not having it made Puck want to talk about it. She was the most uninhibited person I had ever met. She loved sex, of all kinds, and said that she would settle down eventually, but that it had to be the right guy, one who was willing to be in an open relationship. As for girls, she enjoyed playing and would never turn down a sexy girl, but she was really into guys. She even said that she would love to jump my bones. I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.

As for me, I opened up and told her about my relationship with Dad. I had never told anyone about that, not even Mark. That’s how much I trusted her. She was shocked; I didn’t think anything sexual would shock her, but that did. She had trouble accepting that I wasn’t a victim and was sure that I had been permanently scarred by it somehow—at the very least I might have a thing for older men, daddy types. But she didn’t push it. She was good like that. She was also surprised that I had only been with three guys and insisted that when the lockdown was over that I go out trolling for guys with her. She said I needed more varied experiences.

Then one evening we were sitting on the couch watching “The Great British Baking Show” and Puck stretched and leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. I could feel her left boob against my right arm. It was nice feeling a body next to mine, that was something I had missed since Mark and I were no longer a thing.

“Noah Fielding is kinda sexy, don’tcha think?” she said.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Of course you’d say that; you’re the Paul Hollywood type.”

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“Older. Need I say more.”

I didn’t say anything, knowing full well that she was right; Paul Hollywood was kind of hot.

“God, I need a man.” She lifted her head and looked at me. “You know, I repeat my offer. You’d make a good substitute. I like thin, twinkish guys, too, and you could pass for that. You could close your eyes and pretend I was Paul Hollywood.”

I snorted and continued to watch the show, but I felt her hand on my thigh and her eyes still on me.

“What?” I said, looking at her.

“You know what.”

I just kept looking at her, saying nothing. Then she leaned in and kissed me. To my surprise I returned it. I had never kissed a girl before, not like that. She smelled and tasted nice, different than a guy, but the kissing was just as passionate and insistent. She held me by the arms as we kissed and gently guided me down until I was lying on the couch, her on top. I could feel her breasts pressing into my chest. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around her. We kissed for a long while.

Then she stopped. I didn’t want her to, but she stood up and took me by the hands and led me toward her bedroom. Along the way, she stopped and leaned me against the hallway wall and started kissing me again, her hands cupping my ass. By this point, I wanted her so badly.

Then she led me into her bedroom. I was wearing only a T-shirt and shorts over my panties. She pulled the T-shirt up and over my head, letting it drop to the floor. Then she leaned down and circled my nipples with her tongue. I shuddered as she did that. Then she knelt and unfastened my shorts, tugging them gently so they, too, dropped to the floor. She put her nose against the crotch of my panties and inhaled deeply.