Laurie giggled a little as she leaned into the mirror and carefully applied a coat of bright red lipstick.

"I'm not just another lipstick lesbian," she had told Aimee at lunch that day. Aimee was that cute little straight girl in Laurie's psych class. And Laurie was not just another lipstick lesbian. She was different. She was ... she was...

Laurie couldn't find the word, so she just continued with her makeup, pressing her full lips together to make sure the lipstick was spread across them evenly.

Laurie was going over to Aimee's dorm tonight to study for the upcoming psych quiz with Aimee and her cousin Brad. Freud. The quiz was all about Freud, and Laurie hated it. Stupid sick man's psychology. Stupid sick man.

Laurie thought Freud's obsession with penises was disgusting. Penises. Laurie couldn't figure out what was so great about them anyway. Freud was convinced that every woman - that Laurie - was obsessed with penises, too. That every they hated their mothers for denying them their father's bounty. Laurie knew it was bullshit. She didn't want a penis. She didn't even want sex with anyone who did have one.

Laurie guessed Aimee didn't want a penis either. Probably didn't even know what one was, she laughed, combing her long blonde hair. Laurie guessed Aimee had never done it. Of course she'd never done it. Probably never even touched one, seen one. Silly naive Aimee.

Aimee was one of those Christian girls, one of those that thought being a lesbian was a sin, was wrong. Laurie knew different. It was the only thing that was right, that made sense. But Aimee was a little different from most of those stuck Christian girls, at least. She was curious about it, like it was an ancient barbaric custom to ask questions about, and she knew Laurie was a lesbian, knew she could ask her those questions. Laurie wasn't afraid to answer.

"Doesn't it bother you that you're sinning?" Aimee had asked at lunch, "Doesn't it bother you that God hates it, that ... that..." Aimee stammered to finish, she hated to say it, but she knew it was true, "that you could go to hell?"

Laurie had only laughed. "I'm not going to hell because I'm a Lesbian. If there was a God, why would he care what I did with another woman. I mean, it's my body, I can do what I want with it"

Aimee could tell she wasn't going to convince her, not now. So she had tried something else. "But, I mean, what about the prejudice? Everyone's gonna look at you at hate you. Everyone's gonna know..."

"So? It's not like I'm just another lipstick lesbian, I'm not this way because it's trendy. It's just how I am, I can't change it. And if people hate me for that, that's their problem, not mine."

Aimee had glanced down at your watch. Time for the next class. "You're coming to my place tonight, right? Me and Brad are studying for that quiz, remember?"

Laurie had said she'd be there, walking out of the small cafe to her next class.

It was 8:20 now. Time to leave for the cold walk across campus. The constant, nipple-freezing cold. But Laurie didn't mind the walk, and liked the idea of meeting Aimee in her room, even if that stupid Brad was there. Brad.

Who went to the same college as their dumb cousin? Aimee, Laurie guessed. Only Aimee.

Aimee. Laurie rolled the name over her tongue. There was something about that girl. Laurie liked her small body, the way her face was framed with those small black glasses that seemed to be so trendy these days, and that short black hair, falling just above her chin, feathered at the ends.

Laurie arrived at Aimee's dorm, and walked in without knocking, burst into the warmth of the room full of stuffed animals and down comforters that she'd expected.

Aimee was already poring over the textbook, sitting on the floor with notebooks spread all over the floor. She looked up and blinked, surprised, those small, squarish black- rimmed glasses of hers.

"Oh. You're here."

Laurie flopped down against the bed across the books from Aimee, taking off her backpack. "Yeah, I'm here. Where's Brad?"

"He's not here. He just called, he's got the flu or something."

"That's too bad," Laurie said. Secretly, she thought it wasn't. She didn't like that stupid, slobbery Brad, always drooling over her and staring at her well-formed breasts. It was so absurd. Why did boys have these immature fascination with lesbians? It's not like they had a chance.

Without Brad here, Laurie was free to stare at Aimee's tight little body - those smallish, but magnificently shaped breasts.

But there was studying to be done, too.

Laurie sighed and opened up her backpack to pull out her notes. Laurie took very sparse notes, but she figured Aimee would probably be the kind to take lots of notes.

She was.

They had been studying for a long time, at least a couple of hours, talking over every aspect of Freud's stupid life. He was such a ... a man. No wonder male psychologists like him.

There was only so much Freud to talk about, and they'd reviewed all of their class notes, so the conversation turned to other things. Aimee was on the topic of lesbians again. Aimee had tried to talk about other things, about her church group, and her family, but her morbid sort of curiosity took over.

"So, what's it like, you know, being a lesbian? I mean, doesn't it feel icky?"

Laurie giggled at her childishness. "Icky? No, it doesn't feel icky. I'm just like anyone else. I just like girls. They're just..." Laurie carefully considered her answers, her eyes roving over Aimee's beautiful hourglass figure, her legs folded carefully underneath her. "They're just softer and nicer."

Aimee thought this over. "I, I guess that makes sense. But, it just seem wrong..." Then, suddenly, "what's it like. I mean, you know ... kissing a girl." Aimee said it like she had said like had said kissing a frog.

Laurie was bored, and a little horny from being along with the lithe young female for so long. Her eyes twinkled mischievously, and she said, being a little seductive, and a little silly, "why don't I show you," expecting Aimee to scream of barf or something.

Aimee recoiled a little. "You mean?!" her voice kind of trailed off. She was clearly disgusted by the idea. But slowly, over an eternity, it seemed, small tendrils of the thought seeped through her brain. The idea took hold of her, and, almost unaware of what she was doing, Aimee leaned forward just a little and closed her eyes tight.

Laurie was more shocked by Aimee's reaction than Aimee had been at the suggestion. Was Aimee actually going to submit to being kissed by a girl? Wasn't she worried about "sinning" as she had called it?

Laurie almost forgot to take advantage of the situation.

Almost.

She leaned forward, leaned into Aimee's beautiful face and sweet breath, and kissed her gently, ever so gently on the lips. She could feel Aimee almost reel back.

Almost, but not.

And for half a second - just half a second - their lips were pressed softly together, before Laurie drew back and started to breath again, quietly.

Her lips tingled.

Laurie's lips tingled, and she knew Aimee's did, too. Knew it, seeing Aimee's lips almost quiver, and her hand almost fly to her mouth.

Aimee screwed up her face a little, wanted to scream, wanted to shout, wanted to gasp, wanted to cry. Laurie thought she made a mistake, she shouldn't have kissed Aimee. She was too innocent, she didn't really want kissing.

But then.

Then.

"Do ... do it again."

Laurie leaned forward, her fair face against Aimee's slightly dark one. She pressed her closed lips against Aimee's, and held them there.

Slowly, she let her hand raise itself to Aimee's cheek, stroked it, held it. She let her lips slowly part, and felt Aimee's do the same, and she nuzzled her face softly into Laurie's warm hand.

Laurie let her tongue delicately probe Aimee's lips, then let it slip farther into the warm, moist softness of Aimee's mouth. Laurie's tongue became it's own person, exploring this new, reluctant territory, like an adventurer in he Amazon. Aimee's mouth slid open just a fraction more, and Laurie met Aimee's tongue, timid, but wanting to be eager.