Chapter 70: Carol Decides to Become a Lesbian

Monday, April 18, 2005 (Continued)

In the afternoon I skipped one of the silly elective classes to sit in on one of my 11th grade classes. I was having some trouble understanding some of the current work and it would be quicker and easier to ask the teacher than work it out myself. That being what teachers are for, after all, as opposed to the Dipstick-type of self-serving 'teacher'.

That got me thinking about the difference between Dipstick and Mr. Barrett, the middle-school Math teacher who had been so helpful to me when I first advanced a grade. Mr. Barrett had put time and effort into helping me for no reason other than to help me. There was absolutely no personal benefit in it for him. What a contrast with the sports coaches that intrude into my life. They all seem motivated by personal ego. I resolved to look up Mr. Barrett and give him some appreciation.

[I hunted him down a couple of days later, telling him that it was my run-in with Dipstick that reminded me about how good some teachers can be. I thanked him for helping get me started on my accelerated education path. I also told him about OSU's Math Department's interest in me and a few related topics. He made the expected self-depreciating comments, "You would have done just as well without my help," etc., to which I replied with, "As it's turned out, you're probably right, but neither of us knew that at the time. You helped me before anyone else did, and it took some of your time and effort. Without your help it would have been harder and taken longer. I want you to know that I still appreciate your efforts and think you're a good example of what teachers should be like." He was pleased, which was my goal.]

Back in the class, the teacher got into the area I was most interested in toward the end of the period, and most of my uncertainties were clarified. I was still writing down the important points as class ended. I wanted to get them down first, then ask a couple more questions, so I was hurrying in case the teacher left.

A hand on my shoulder distracted me. I looked up and saw that it belonged to one of the prettier girls in the class. She said, "Hello, Mark. I was hoping you would come to one of my classes soon. I was watching the 10k and was amazed when I saw you win it. You're an incredible guy!"

I was still writing my notes and keeping an eye on the teacher to make sure he wasn't about to leave the room. Fortunately another student had him pinned down and was talking to him. I could easily talk with the girl at the same time as I wrote since my multiple minds are perfectly suited for multi-tasking.

I was extremely conscious that the girl still had her hand resting on my shoulder and that she was quite pretty. Those two facts combine very nicely (I think that's called "synergy"). Her being a pretty girl caused me to be more pleasant than normal when responding to a 10k comment. "Um, thank you."

"It was incredibly impressive. I had no idea you were such a great runner too."

I didn't know how to respond to any of those points: a) I didn't actually know how impressive winning the race was. b) As far as I was concerned I wasn't a runner at all, great or not. And c) I didn't know what her "too" was referring to. I avoided the problem of what to say by saying nothing.

She looked around the room, then squatted down beside me, which slid her hand off my shoulder and down my arm, something I was still very conscious of. She quietly said, "Please can we have dinner together one night? Please?"

My three minds, the fourth one being on duty, were of two minds. On the one hand I have a very low opinion of people who are interested in me just because I can do something like run fast. How does that make me a better person in any useful way? Especially in any way useful to a relationship. On the other hand were several aspects: she was a pretty 17-year old girl who was still touching me, she seemed excessively eager (I could work with that!), I knew Julia was planning on broadening my experiences with girls, and last but not least, I was horny. It'd been far too long since I'd had a good cum, and lunchtime had been very arousing. My whole life has been arousing recently - lunchtime today, Donna this morning, Carol last night, etc. - but with far fewer cums than I would've liked. The first issue, that she just seemed to be a fame groupie, was actually the biggest factor in my mind. Big enough that I didn't really care either way. I also wasn't impressed by her not even telling me her name yet.

I decided to try something new for me, "I came to this class because I have some problems with the current material. I have to finish writing my notes and I want to talk with the teacher before he goes. I don't have time to talk with you now so would you please write your name, phone number and whatever else on the back of a photo of you and drop it into my locker?" I had remembered Julia's joke, delivered via Cindy, about my needing a camera on my cellphone so Julia could review my potential new girlfriends. Or in this case, more likely my new "plaything", to use the term Julia had insisted on. That was the main reason for my requesting a photo, to show it to Julia. This Miss WhatsHerName is a year ahead of Julia, so Julia probably wouldn't know her by name, whatever it is.

I was curious to see how she'd respond, but I mostly expected her to be angry as it sounded as if I was judging her totally for her looks. It sounded this way in large part because I was. I figured that if she was chasing me just for my fame, then it was fair for me to return the favor by judging her on her looks. Her response confused me though, "What sort of photo do you want?"

"Umm. I don't know. It doesn't matter much. Color would be better, I guess. Not too large, so you can get it through the slot."

Miss WhatsHerName said, "I mean do you want one of me in a bikini, or something like that?"

NO WAY could I ask for something like that! It'd make me seem like a low-life jerk. I hastened to reassure her, "No, no. Nothing like that. Any sort of photo is fine."

I saw that the teacher had finished his conversation and was starting to pack up, no one else being in the room to delay him. I called out that I had a couple of quick questions for him. I didn't know if they'd be quick, but it sounded better to say they would be.

Miss WhatsHerName rose, saying, "Thanks, I'll do that tomorrow." I wasn't sure what she was thanking me for, but I could live with the uncertainty.

^-- As she stood, she exclaimed, "You're still writing notes, and with your other hand! I've seen you do two subjects at the same time, but never like this. How can you do that?" I'd swapped hands because she'd arrived on my right, that being the hand I usually use purely out of habit from my pre-merge days. It'd been easier to swap my pen to my left hand and use my left eye to continue writing down the class's key points, while using my right eye to look at WhatsHerName while we talked.

I simply said, "Sorry. No time to talk now." I bustled to the front, and started getting my outstanding questions answered.

She waved as she left the room.

^

The rest of the school day was mostly uneventful. Several more guys asked me about the 10k race. None of them was as pretty as Miss WhatsHerName so I didn't ask for any photos of them in bikinis. Perhaps I should have because it would've been a very effective way of stopping them from blathering on about the race. It wasn't worth the risk though, in case any of them complied.

I had a couple more girls act flagrantly friendly to me, but I'd decided I'd better talk with Julia before I let that activity expand any further. I was also aware that I couldn't do much about it until the trial was over. I turned them down, but not as abruptly as normal, telling them, "Ask me again in a week, I've got too many other things to think about at the moment." Not that I expected them to. They'd probably forget all about me before the week was up, when a jock did something awesomely impressive like running across a line painted on the ground carrying a bag of air, running from point A to point B and back again without getting lost, tying his shoestrings all by himself, or something else equally challenging.

I met Carol at the usual place we wait for the car, and she hugged my arm while saying, "I've been thinking about something recently, and especially this afternoon. What do you think about me coming out of the closet as a lesbian?"

Apparently I thought, "WHAT!"

Carol laughed, "Haha. I enjoyed surprising you with that. I'm still serious, I think it'd make lots of things easier. We often get looks from people when I hold your arm like this. Most people will be assuming we're boyfriend and girlfriend, but anyone who knows we're brother and sister is going to be suspicious. I've already had a few people who've seen us ask me about how close we are. It'd be great if I could tell them I was a lesbian. They'd see I was too, if they saw me being affectionate with Julia. That's another of the reasons for my idea, so Julia and I can kiss and hold each other in public.

^-- "Another reason is that I've had several people be particularly friendly to me today because I'm dressed more sexily than usual. Nearly all of them have been guys, which just wastes my time. Only a few have been girls, but there'd be more girls if I was known as a lesbian. The last thing I was thinking of is for when you go to college. Julia and I will come with you, and it might be easier for us all to be together if we told everyone that you and I share Julia. That's the act we put on just for Cindy, but I think it will work well everywhere. What do you think?"

"Gosh. You've said a lot, and I'm not sure where to start. Let's just go through your examples while I remember them. First was people seeing you hold me like this. If that's a problem we could easily avoid it by not doing it anymore. I don't want to, but surely that's easier than your pretending to be a lesbian. You are pretending, aren't you? That may sound like a silly question, but I easily get very confused by girls, especially on the things that I think are obvious."

"Haha. Of course I am. There are only three people I want to have sex with: totally at the top of the list is you, then Julia, then any other wives we have, haha. Of course I'm not a lesbian. Whenever I think of having sex with you my pussy floods. That's a big clue, isn't it?"

I laughed and nodded.

Carol continued, "If I never made love to anyone else in my life except you I'd still be a very happy girl, but I'd also love it if you found more wives for us. I know you don't want any guys and I'm sure more girls or women is going to happen eventually, so I might as well be a lesbian officially."

I confirmed, "You're right about my not wanting any more guys. I don't want to share my girls with other guys, and I especially don't want to share MY body with a guy. That turns me off entirely. More girls is probably going to happen though. I had several approach me today. The race win has suddenly made me more attractive."

Carol said, "I had several people talk with me about it too. I also heard that you're refusing to talk about it."

"Yeah. I'm surprised you heard about me though."

"A lot of people know I'm your sister and talk with me about you. Plus I overhear lots of conversations about you anyway, whether or not they know I'm your sister."

I tried to imagine what that'd be like, and found it weird. Unsurprisingly I said, "That must be weird? Overhearing people talk about me, I mean. I'd feel weird if I overheard people talk about you."

Carol said, "It was strange at the beginning but I'm used to it now because it happens quite often. It can be a lot of fun."

I HAD to ask! "What do they usually say about me?"

"Couldn't resist, eh?"

I sheepishly shrugged.

"There are a couple of boys in my classes who're into soccer and they sometimes watch your games and talk about you afterward, but mostly I hear girls talking, usually about how hot you are, how you get them wet, what they'd like you to do to them, and that sort of thing. Do you want more details?"

"No thank you. That was already explicit enough." I suddenly doubted her, and thought she was pulling my leg. I added, "Really? You're not just pulling my leg?"

"Girls often talk very bluntly when there are no boys around, and often about you these days. You've got no idea how hot you are. When the trial is over, Julia and I are going to get you so laid! There's going to be a long line of girls begging for it. Even longer once Julia and I start encouraging them. Wait until we start packaging and advertising you! Just dressing you properly is going to leave girls fainting in your wake."

That was just silly! Carol was obviously getting carried away. Way, way away, and then some!

Carol could see my disbelief. She disagreed with it, "I'm serious. The fainting comment might be a little overdone, but not by that much. Lots of girls ask me about you, and their interest is obvious. I get asked whether you have a girlfriend, are you going to be breaking up with her soon, would you go out with them even if you have a girlfriend, do I think they have a chance with you, and lots of other questions like that. Not to mention them outright begging for an introduction to you. I'm going to suggest to Julia that we should start keep a list for when the trial is over. People probably watch what they say when you're around, but they seem to be less cautious when they talk with Donna and me. Donna will be getting it even worse now because so many of her friends are sports-mad. I bet she's had lots of her girlfriends ask about you today."

"I hope it doesn't annoy her too much. Thank goodness that the fame will die down in a few days. Making Donna happy is the only reason left that makes me glad I ran the race. In every other way it's been a pain, such as the whole Dipstick thing. And I have no idea how girls can suddenly think I will be a better boyfriend because I can run fast. That's got nothing to do with running ability. If anything girls should want slow boyfriends so they can get away when he gets too grabby, haha."

Carol said, "Are you serious about not knowing why girls want you more now?"

"Sure. Being a good runner has got nothing to do with being a good boyfriend. Maybe 100,000 years ago when humans were running around chasing antelopes, or being chased by lions, or whatever, but not these days."

Carol said, "Come on! You've seen nature documentaries. In every species the female finds the best male she can to breed with. The strongest, most colorful, best nest builder, best singing, best food gatherer, or whatever it is that's important to that species. It's all about instincts. Winning that race against the state champ proved you have exceptional genes. Your intelligence proves that again, and your handsomeness and physique proves it yet again. From these girls' point of view you are so close, you're ALMOST in reach. They see you every day and know you're walking around just yards away from them, so the deep parts of their brain are going to be screaming 'BREED WITH MARK, BREED WITH MARK!' If you'd heard even a fraction of the conversations about you that I have, you wouldn't have any doubts about other girls wanting you."

"Oh. I hadn't thought about that."

#2: <We beat the state champ! No wonder he was pissed off at coming second.>

#1: <And it's AMAZING that Donna had enough confidence in us to bet all her money on our winning.>

#2: <I'm not disagreeing, but she'd run with us and informally timed us, so it was an informed confidence.>

Carol disagreed, "I'm sure you knew it. You're just too modest to acknowledge it even to yourself. You're a better runner, by a ridiculous amount, than any other boy in this school. You're easily the best runner in the whole state because you destroyed the previous champ. That means you have EXCEPTIONAL genes, Mark. You were hot even before this race, and now - for any girl that follows racing - you are a walking wet dream. That's why your popularity has jumped with girls."

I guess I had to admit that Carol's explanation made sense. Except for one exaggeration, "I didn't beat him by very much, Carol. He was just behind me, so I'm not that spectacular."

Carol look perplexed, and asked, "Who? The state champ you mean?"

"Yeah, of course. You said I 'destroyed the previous state champ'. I didn't destroy him, he was just behind me."

"Mark, the state champ was MILES behind you. He came in fourth."

"Oh. Wait! You mean the other guys were..."

Carol nodded.

"Oh."

After a moment or six to digest that news, I asked, "Then why did you use the state champ as a comparison? If he wasn't the best other guy there."

"I didn't think about it; it just came out. Saying 'state champ' is easier than 'currently the third fastest in America.' Plus we were really talking about the girls at this school getting hold of a guy's genes. The state champ is sort of local so that's conceivable, excuse the pun, but local girls aren't going to get anyone beyond state level. Anyway, I thought you knew what I was talking about. Did you really not know who you beat?"

"No. You're not the first person to ask me that either. I didn't care enough to find out. Still don't care actually. I just didn't realize how big the thing was that I don't care about."

^-- After a pause I had a sudden thought, "Hang on! If it was really that big there would have been a madhouse after I won it. A circus!"

"Yes, that's right."

"But I didn't see any circus."

"The phone was ringing off the hook. Mom was taking message after message. Didn't you read them?"

"Ahh, no. I told Mom to throw them away."

Carol said, "You should talk with Mom then. I've only picked up bits and pieces from conversations I overheard. I wasn't even at home then. I was doing something far more important, remember?"

I looked completely blank, so Carol supplied, "Shopping."

"Haha. My mind was completely blank then. I was trying to do a memory retrieval keyed off 'important', and nothing was happening. Imagine my memory not filing 'Shopping' under 'Important'. Silly me, haha. But I get your point about you not knowing much about the race aftermath. I'll ask Mom when she gets home."

I was silent for a while, mostly because I was trying to work out what we should talk about next. The conversation had wandered so much I'd lost track of all the different points I wanted to ask about.

My cellphone went off then, and I answered it. Dad said, "I need to be quick. My boss is quite happy for me to take you to the DMV, just so long as it's not on Thursday or Friday. He wants some notice to make sure I can be covered, so when you get home call the DMV guy and make an appointment and text it to me, okay?"

"I'll call him now. I've got his number with me."

"It can wait till you get home. You're going straight home, aren't you?"

"Yes. Just waiting for the car now."

"Good. Call him from home, it's a cheaper call. Just text me when you get a time."

"Okay, Dad. Thanks. Bye."

I put my phone away, and Carol reattached herself to my arm. Which reminded me that we'd originally been discussing her "coming out", one of her reasons being the way she held my arm.

So I said to her, "Sweetie, one of the reasons you gave for your 'coming out' as a lesbian was because of the way you hold my arm. Wouldn't it be easier just not to hold my arm?"

"{Raspberry}. I LOVE holding your arm like this, and I know you do too. We both love it, so we're not going to let other people's prejudices stop us."

"I think it's more than a prejudice. Brother-sister stuff is a law rather than a prejudice."

"It's a law BECAUSE there's a prejudice. Our love is perfect and it's ridiculous for anyone to think otherwise. Anyway, there's nothing illegal about my holding your arm like this. I love it, so I'm going to keep doing it."

"I'm sure not going to argue with you. I didn't realize you liked it so much though. I thought only I liked it that much."

"I LOVE it! It feels perfect to me. It's asymmetric, which I REALLY like. You know what I mean? I attach myself to you, not you to me. It's not like holding hands, which is equal on both sides. This is me hanging on to my big, strong, superior lover. I get to hold your hard, muscular arm. Every time you move it I can feel your muscles flex, and that's a great feeling for me because of both the emotional thrill from being subservient and the physical thrill from feeling your physical strength. Plus I get to hold your arm hard against my breasts, and that's such a comforting, secure feeling, like being tightly hugged. It's the best way I know how to hold you which ISN'T illegal, haha."

"That's a very good description, so good that I can imagine your feelings. Can I ask you something though? It seems a bit silly, but all this time I didn't think that you were aware that my arm was pressed into your breasts. I thought that was accidental, and you weren't aware of it. But obviously you were because you described the feeling it gives you."

Carol looked confused and asked, "You really thought I hadn't noticed?"

"Umm, no. No, you didn't notice, I mean. Or should that be 'Yes, I thought you didn't notice'? English is a stupid language. My answer should mean that I thought you were unaware."

"I understand your answer. For your future reference you should assume that whenever a girl presses a piece of male anatomy tightly against her breasts, then she knows what she's doing. Okay?"

Accompanied by Carol's laughter, I said, "Now I feel stupid. Obviously you would've known."

Carol kept laughing, which made me feel even more supid. Then she made it even worse, "You've got a lot to learn about females, darling. We spend most of our lives carefully avoiding never-ending unwanted attempts to touch our breasts. We are very aware whenever a male gets close to them, and are totally aware when a male is touching. So of course I know when you're touching me there. I LOVE you touching my breasts, it's a wonderful feeling. I disliked having big breasts before, but when I fell in love with you that all changed. Now I'm happy that they're big because I know you love them so much."

That took some of the sting out. I said, "Boy, do I feel stupid! All this time I thought I was getting free rubs. I'm going to miss that."

Carol quickly reassured me, "You won't miss anything. I'm never going to stop holding you this way. Julia too, as she obviously likes it just as much as I do. Even Donna is taking it up."

"Yes, I understand that, but you missed my point. I'm going to miss thinking that I was getting 'free rubs'."

"But you're free to rub my breasts whenever you like." To prove her point she even rubbed my arm back and forth across her breast. I quickly looked around, but no one appeared to be looking. She soon stopped anyway, as this was certainly not the right place for that activity.

I answered, "I love rubbing your breasts, as you know, but I also loved the idea of getting 'free rubs'. Do you know what I mean by 'free rub'?"

"I thought it meant that you were free to rub them. Which you are, whenever you want."

"Your answer seems logical, but it's not actually what it means. 'Free rub' is when I, or any other guy, gets a rub without the girl being aware of it."

"But the girl is ALWAYS aware of it! Unless she's asleep, I guess. You can come into my room and rub me when I'm asleep, if you want. I'll start sleeping topless for you."

"Umm, thank you, but that's not what I meant. It doesn't count if you're asleep. For a 'free rub' you have to be awake, but unaware that I'm doing it."

Carol frowned and said, "I can't imagine how that's possible. But even if it were, are you saying that given the choice between a girl freely offering you her breasts and her love - giving them to you as a gift from her heart, or close by, haha - or your sneaking a quick, furtive, pretending-to-be-an-accident rub; then you'd prefer the second choice?"

"Umm. Not exactly 'prefer', but there is a pleasure in it that I'm going to miss."

"You're going to miss the idea that you thought I was unaware of your arm being in contact with my breast? I don't understand that. I love you doing anything, anywhere, anytime to my breasts, or any other part of me. I even love just offering my body to you. But a 'free rub' is somehow better? Surely that way you'd get less pleasure because you'd have to hold your arm still to avoid me becoming aware, and I get no pleasure at all because I'm supposed to be unaware. My pleasure goes from wonderful to zero, which would normally make me think you were being incredibly selfish, except that your pleasure goes from however much you could get doing whatever you wanted, down to whatever you'd get from just holding your arm still against me. That makes ABSOLUTELY no sense at all. Do other guys think the same as you about this, or is it only you that has these weird ideas?"

"I'm sure I've never discussed this with anyone else, ever, but somehow I know that other guys feel the same. I even know that we call it a 'free rub', but I've no memory of how I learned that."

Carol shook her head in dismay, saying, "I've always known that guys don't think properly, but that's got to be the most illogical thing I have EVER heard! I've got absolutely no idea how a one-sided furtive rub can - in ANY way - be better than loving, mutual gifts of pleasure. Guys are INCREDIBLY illogical!"

Carol's final statement was completely and totally false. I'll demolish it, just as soon as I work out how.

#2: <Okay guys! What's the reason 'a one-sided furtive rub can - in any way - be better than loving, mutual gifts of pleasure'?>

#3: <It can't be. I can't think of a single way in which it's better.>

#4: <I can't think of a single way either.>

#2: <Okay. So our answer to Carol will be, "That we aren't going to miss the idea that we were getting a free rub at all." Except that... >

#4: <Yeah. We ARE going to miss it. Does that mean guys are illogical? I don't want to have to admit to that!>

#2: <I've got an idea. Let me try this.>

"Carol, you're right that 'a one-sided furtive rub is not better than loving, mutual gifts of pleasure.' But I'm going to miss THE IDEA that it was a free rub. It's the IDEA, not the actual physical action."

Carol answered, "And that is more logical how?"

"Umm..."

#4: <Thanks #2, that was a great help.>

#2: <Let me try this.>

"I wonder where the school's car is. Isn't it running late?"

"Changing the subject isn't going to work. I'm still curious to hear your answer."

#4: <I think we have to tell the truth.>

#2: <I'm afraid so. I've racked our brain, and I can't come up with a logical reason. Shall we tell her?>

#3: <You do it #2.>

"Okay, I'll have to tell you the truth." I paused and looked all around me, to see if anyone could overhear me. Carol saw me doing this, and copied me. Assured that the coast was clear, I leaned in and quietly said, "Please don't tell anyone else this, okay, because we're trying to keep it a secret?"

I looked around again, while Carol said, "Yes?"

"It's because guys are pathetic. Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"EVERY girl already knows that!"

"In that case guys are pathetic AND in big trouble, haha. But all joking aside, I WILL miss the idea that I was getting a free rub. You're completely right that it's stupid. It's a male thing and I have no explanation for our stupid attitude. I suspect it's one of those inexplicable gender things like men getting a kick out of blowing things up and going to war, and women liking shopping and inventing ten names for the same color. I'd like to finish by telling you that I love you very, very much, and now I'll throw myself on the mercy of the court."

"The court finds you guilty of being pathetic and illogical. In other words, of being a male. Your sentence is to make love to me as soon as you can please. The court loves you very much too."

We both started laughing, me mostly in relief. Phew. Without thinking about it I'd taken Carol in my arms, and was giving her a very nice hug, when I realized that this was definitely not the right place to demonstrate that much affection.

I quickly let go, and looked around. There weren't many kids around. I looked at my watch, and saw that the car was nearly fifteen minutes late. So was Donna.

"Carol, what do you think has happened to the car and Donna?"

Carol spotted Donna coming from a distance, accompanied by several other girls. They were running. Donna gave us a wave as soon as she saw that we'd seen her.

When she and the other girls arrived, Donna exclaimed, "Thank goodness you're still here. Sorry I'm late. Too many people wanted to talk with me about your winning the race. I couldn't get away. These girls insisted on meeting you. Shall I introduce them or are they too much of a nuisance?" Donna's last statement was delivered with a growl, which amused me.