Chapter 68: And I Liked It!

June 15, 2002, Rochester, Minnesota

🎤 Jesse

Scarlett hadn’t answered and had simply continued eating her ice cream cone. A non-answer actually was an answer, and it seemed to me she was still struggling with the fact that I was three-and-a-half years younger than she was. We finished our ice cream and left the shop.

“I’m going to guess you can’t go back to your room,” Scarlett said.

“Bill asked me to stay away until curfew, and I agreed. If you don’t want to hang out until then, I can go watch TV or find something else to do.”

“You really aren’t upset?”

“No. You keep mistaking me for an immature guy.”

“I think even mature guys would be upset, or at least bothered.”

“Then I’d contend they aren’t actually mature. You’re mistaking chronological age for maturity.”

“Sorry,” Scarlett said, sounding chagrined. “You’re being so nice about this and I’m being a...”

I cut her off, “No, you aren’t.”

“I almost feel like I owe it to you at this point,” she said.

“Of all the bad reasons to have sex, that’s one of the worst,” I said firmly. “Nobody can owe anyone sex, ever. And honestly, if that was your reason, I’d turn you down.”

“Who are you?”

“Not a normal sixteen-year-old guy,” I replied.

“Not a normal guy, period.”

She was quiet until we reached the dorm. I couldn’t go into my room, so I decided to sit down on the bench outside and see what Scarlett decided to do.

[Apple Orchard Bed-and-Breakfast near Montpelier, Vermont] 🎤 Birgit

My iPod was playing the album Laundry Service by Shakira. Estrella had introduced me to her music in Spanish, but this album was mostly in English. The music didn’t overcome the fact that I was totally ticked at Ed’s parents, though I suspected that he was both clueless and scared. Of course, I was positive that the minute I put my mouth on him, all of that would go away, no matter what Katy thought.

I was totally frustrated, too. I was ready to have sex, and if only Dad had agreed, I’d not only have had it, but I’d have it with him every chance I had! Thinking of Dad didn’t help, because it made me even more frustrated that Ed hadn’t shown up. There was only one thing to do — as Underneath Your Clothes started playing, I unbuttoned my jeans, pulled down the zipper, then slipped my hand inside my panties.

I ran my fingers through my pubic hair, then gently massaged the skin that covered my button. I closed my eyes and thought about what it was going to be like to have someone rub me this way, then lick me, to suck him, and then for him to fill me with his hard dick. I tried to think about Kjell, but I kept seeing Dad’s face, and gave in to that fantasy, imaging what Dad’s tongue would feel like, and what it would feel like when he pushed into me for the first time. I squeezed my thighs together and rubbed faster. A minute later I moaned softly and my insides felt squishy, and then I groaned in pleasure as I had an orgasm.

I pulled my hand from my panties and did something I’d never done before — tasted myself and discovered I liked it, but what I really wanted to taste was a guy shooting in my mouth. I lay quietly, allowing my heartbeat and breathing to return to normal. My iPod stopped playing because I’d forgotten to charge it earlier, and just as I was about to zip up my jeans, I heard a noise. I quickly sat up to see a dim form on the path at the edge of the clearing. I wondered if it might be Ed, but they moved and it seemed as if they were a girl. There were three teenage girls staying at the bed-and-breakfast, so it was certainly possible.

“Hi,” I called out.

“Oh!” the girl gasped. “Uhm, sorry.”

“It’s OK,” I said. “How long were you there?”

“Long enough, I guess,” the girl stammered.

“I’m not upset! Who are you?”

“Marcella. Marcella Drake.”

She walked forward and I could see her in the pale moonlight — the cute dark-haired girl who was staying at the bed-and-breakfast with her parents and older sister.

“That’s a pretty name!” I said. “I’ve never heard it before.”

“Thanks! It was my great-grandmother’s name. You’re Birgit, right?” she asked. “The daughter of the owners?”

“Yes, I’m Birgit; No, I’m not their daughter — they’re friends of my family. My mom and my dad are in Chicago, and Dad helped finance the bed-and-breakfast for Katy. I come here to visit Katy every Summer for a few weeks.”

“It’s nice here,” Marcella said. “Away from everyone.”

“You mean Vermont? Or this clearing?”

“Vermont. We’re from New York City, and you can never ever see the stars there, and there are too many people.”

“Does your dad work on Wall Street?”

“Yes. He’s a fixed-income asset manager at Lehman Brothers. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes. I’m friends with Samantha Spurgeon at Spurgeon Capital in Chicago.”

“I haven’t ever heard of her.”

“It’s a privately held investment firm. What about your mom?”

“She works for Lehman in their HR department. What about your parents?”

In keeping with our practice, I just decided to give the cautious answer.

“Mom is a chemistry professor at the University of Chicago; Dad started his own IT company right out of college.”

“What grade are you in?”

“I start ninth in September,” I said. “You?”

“Tenth.”

“Did I invade your space?” I asked.

“It’s not mine, really,” Marcella replied. “I mean, I’ve come up here every night to watch the stars and be alone.”

“I can leave,” I said.

“No, it’s OK if you want to stay.”

I quickly zipped and buttoned my jeans.

“Sorry I spied on you,” she continued.

It didn’t bother me at all, really, and from where she was, she couldn’t have actually seen anything, and only the fact that I had moaned and groaned would have given away what I’d been doing. Unlike Ed, it didn’t embarrass me in the least.

“It’s no big deal,” I replied. “I’m not freaked out or anything.”

“I’d totally die if someone saw me doing that.”

“Except you couldn’t really see,” I giggled. “It’s too dark, and you were too far away!”

“I thought about moving closer, but I was afraid you’d see me and be angry.”

“Why would I be angry?” I asked.

“The spying...”

“Did you stalk me or follow me or anything?”

“No!” Marcella protested quickly.

“Then it was just your curiosity, and I’m pretty sure I might do the same thing.”

“You might?”

“Sure. We’re all curious, right? I mean, that’s normal for teenagers.”

“Maybe,” Marcella said hesitantly.

A giant lightbulb lit up in my head, like one of those old-fashioned searchlights they occasionally used to draw attention to something, though I hadn’t seen one in a few years.

“You like girls, right?” I asked.

“What?!” Marcella gasped. “Why would you say that?”

“Chill a bit,” I said, keeping my voice soft. “I’m close friends with Katy and Amy, so I obviously don’t have a problem with it. My older brother, well, half-brother, lives with his moms who are a lesbian couple, so I have that experience, too. The way you answered made me think that might be the case for you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Marcella said quietly.

“I’m a good listener,” I said. “And I know lots of gays and lesbians, including some of my friends and some of my half-brother’s friends.”

“But you like boys,” Marcella protested.

“Which doesn’t mean I don’t have the same kinds of feelings or that I’m not confused at times! Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t know,” Marcella said quietly.

“Nobody knows, do they? Not even your best friend.”

“No,” Marcella admitted.

“Well, now I know, and we can talk about it. You’re in New York, so it’s not like you live in some Bible-belt hellhole where they think I’m going straight to hell for what I was doing when you came to the clearing!”

“Do you do that a lot?”

“Occasionally,” I replied.

“Have you, uhm, you know?”

“Not yet,” I replied. “You?”

“No way! I mean, uhm, never mind.”

“You want to, but you’re afraid of someone finding out or hitting on the wrong person or whatever?”

“Yes,” Marcella admitted.

“And you’re a bit scared of actually doing it, too, right?”

“How do you know?” she asked.

“Because it’s normal. You had sex ed, right?”

“It was about periods, getting pregnant, and basic birth control. That provided exactly zero information that was useful to me. Well, the part about STDs, but otherwise, it was lame.”

“You need to get a copy of a book, Smart Teens; Smart Choices, written by my Aunt Bethany. Well, not really an aunt, but she was my dad’s best friend growing up, so that’s what I call her. It has all the information you need, including about what girls do together, not just boys and girls. You can get it on Amazon or from a bookstore. Or I could send you a copy.”

“My parents would lose their minds if they saw me with a book like that.”

“That’s nuts! You’re fifteen, right?”

“Yes.”

“Even if you aren’t planning to have sex, you need the information!”

“Your parents let you read the book?”

“When I was ten!” I replied. “I read it before it was published. I’ve made sure all my friends have read it, too.”

“And your parents were OK with that?” Marcella asked, bewildered.

“Yes. I’ve known about sex and how it worked from the time I was little. My parents never hid that information from us.”

“My mom could barely talk to me about my period!”

“Typical,” I replied, shaking my head. “My parents had frank talks with me about sex from the time I was a toddler. I even once asked my mom what an orgy was, and she explained it to me.”

“No way!” Marcella gasped.

“Truth,” I replied. “My parents let me go on the Pill last Spring, even before my fourteenth birthday.”

“Unreal. But you haven’t...”

“Not yet. But who wants to take that risk? Not me, that’s for sure! In a way, it’s easier for you because you don’t have to worry about that.”

“You’re like the first person I’ve ever talked to who hasn’t referred to lesbians with derogatory words.

I rolled my eyes, though I didn’t think Marcella could see.

“So they’re all morons! There is literally nothing wrong with two girls, two guys, or any other combination you can think of with more than two! Well, so long as everyone consents and practices safe sex.”

“You mean birth control?”

“And being careful about STDs. It’s better to get tested regularly and make sure your partner is tested because condoms or dental dams or whatever can fail.”

“What was that thing after condoms?”

“Dental dams — a medical device used in dentistry or oral surgery, but which can mean something used to cover your vulva during oral sex to prevent the exchange of fluids. I’m not sure how common they are, but they’re mentioned in the book I told you about.”

“You’re fourteen, right?”

“Yes.”

“It’s weird because I think you know more than my health teacher!”

“Trust me, most adults are freakin’ clueless about most things having to do with sex, or if they aren’t clueless, they’re too prudish or embarrassed or whatever to talk about it. And stupidly, they think hiding information will prevent teenagers from having sex, when in reality all it does is encourage risky behavior with regard to pregnancy and STIs!”

“Can I ask how much you’ve done?”

“Just kissing and hugging so far. I guess you’ve never even kissed.”

“No.”

“Do you want to?” I asked.

“Kiss?”

“Yes.”

“You mean you?!” Marcella gasped. “You’re straight!”

“No, I’m Birgit! I have my own feelings and desires and labels don’t matter! But I was speaking generally about kissing, not specifically about me. I want to have sex, and I will, most likely this Summer when I see a guy I’ve known for a long, long time. But it also wouldn’t weird me out to kiss a girl.”

“You mean that?”

“I see girls kiss each other all the time, and I mean real kisses, not like just pecks on the lips. Katy and Amy, my brother’s moms Jennifer and Josie, our friend Libby, and others. And I’ve seen guys kiss, too. My dad and Jesse’s biological mom have gay friends. One of the guys on my brother’s hockey team is gay. I’ve seen him kiss, too. So not weirded out at all.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you before,” Marcella said.

“And you probably never will again!” I giggled. “There is only one of me!”

Marcella laughed softly, “Not too full of ourselves, are we?”

“Dad insists on self-confidence, self-determination, and self-fulfillment and I don’t do anything halfway! Dad calls me the ‘Empress of the Universe’ because he thinks I want to control the entire world. He’s not wrong!”

“I need a friend like you,” Marcella sighed. “Where do you live?”

“Chicago. But I have AIM and email and a mobile phone. I have lots of friends all over the US and around the world.”

“You really wouldn’t be weirded out by kissing me?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Would you want to?” Marcella asked timidly. “You know, kiss me?”

[Rochester, Minnesota] 🎤 Jesse

Scarlett didn’t sit, but she didn’t walk into the dorm, or walk away, either. I knew she was confused, and that meant I needed to be very careful, no matter what she said or did next. There were no noises other than the light breeze, which rustled the leaves in the tree and the occasional traffic sounds. It was almost never this quiet in Chicago, even in Washington Park, something I’d grown so used to that I really didn’t notice it unless I wanted to.

“Do you want to come to my room?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” I replied, “but I’m not sure I should.”

“Why?”

“Because you aren’t sure I should, and that concerns me. Did you read the section in the book about ‘positive consent’?”

“I did.”

“The gist is basically that ‘no’ always means ‘no’, but ‘yes’ doesn’t always mean ‘yes’, even when it’s said aloud.”

“But I invited you in.”

“Sort of,” I said. “You asked if I wanted to come to your room, which is different from saying ‘come to my room’ or ‘do you want to fool around’, and because of what you said before, I think the difference might be important.”

“You mean about feeling obligated?”

“Yes. Put it all together and it’s a yellow caution flag.”

“I can’t think of a single college guy who would take what I said in any way except an invitation.”

I grinned, “As you’ve pointed out time and time again, I’m not a college guy!”

“Sorry,” Scarlett said. “It’s just...”

Her voice trailed off, and she didn’t answer. Something was bugging her, and I wasn’t sure what it was, though it could simply be her internal conflict over our age difference.

“Don’t force yourself to do something you think you might regret, or worse, think is wrong. I’m not going to be angry with you or anything like that. I hope you can see that from how I’ve handled this so far.”

“It’s, uhm, complicated.”

“If you have a boyfriend, just say so,” I said, thinking that might well be the source of her consternation.

“No, nobody steady. I had a steady boyfriend my Senior year of High School, but he went to Rutgers. I dated last year, but nothing serious.”

“I just have this feeling that there’s something else,” I said.

Scarlett nodded, then sat down next to me.

“What I said about crossing stuff of my bucket list? I was referring to oral sex. I haven’t actually gone all the way.”

And with that admission, everything made perfect sense.

[Apple Orchard Bed-and-Breakfast near Montpelier, Vermont] 🎤 Birgit

I almost giggled, but managed not to, because a dumb boy was afraid to kiss me, but a girl had just asked me to kiss her! But giggling would probably have hurt Marcella, and I didn’t want to do that. Did I want to kiss her? I’d kissed Ed, my first real kiss, and I actually wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl. It didn’t seem strange or weird, it just wasn’t something I’d actually contemplated except for occasional teasing, and even then I hadn’t actually thought about it. I certainly didn’t think anything bad could come of it, at least for me. I didn’t think a single kiss, even a good one, would hurt Marcella.

“I will,” I said. “Scoot closer.”

Marcella scooted closer until our hips touched and she turned her face to mine. I gently touched my lips to hers for a couple of seconds, then broke the kiss.

“That was nice,” Marcella sighed. “Thank you.”

She was right about it being nice, and I didn’t feel weird or strange, or suddenly have an urge to cut my hair short and start wearing comfortable shoes, as Jennifer, Josie, and Dad joked about how things were in the 70s and early 80s. Marcella wasn’t ‘butch’ at all — she was built almost like me — in good shape, smallish breasts, cute butt, and nice lips. I just hoped that by the time I turned sixteen, mine were as big as Mom’s, which I thought likely, given both Stephanie and Grandma Nancy had nice-sized boobs.

“I liked it, too,” I replied.

“Would you want to do it again?” Marcella asked with more confidence.

I nodded, and we moved so that our lips touched, but this time I didn’t break the kiss quickly. When Marcella’s lips parted, I gently slid my tongue into her mouth and was surprised when I felt a tingle between my legs and a burning desire in the pit of my stomach. As our tongues moved gently around each other, that desire grew and grew, something I would never have expected in a million years.

I’d thought the kiss would just be going through the motions, but it wasn’t! I took a chance and moved my hand up along Marcella’s side and tentatively cupped her breast. Marcella moaned into my mouth and our kiss grew more heated as our tongues moved frantically around each other. I felt Marcella’s hand on my boob and when she ran her thumb over my nipple, I moaned into her mouth, feeling every bit as excited as I had when Ed had rubbed his hard dick against me.

Marcella broke the kiss and lay down, panting hard.

“You OK?” I asked.

“I think so, but you probably don’t want to know what I’m thinking.”

“I bet the same thing I am!” I declared.

“Wait! You were really turned on? Not just being nice?”

“The LAST thing I ever plan to do in my life is fake an orgasm!” I giggled. “Not that I had one, but you know what I mean. It was really hot!”

“But you’re straight!” Marcella protested.

“No, I’m Birgit!” I declared. “One of my lesbian friends made the point that your pussy and clit can’t tell the difference between a boy’s tongue and a girl’s tongue! Of course, guys have whiskers which would probably tickle your thighs, but tongues are tongues!”