Soul Mates

by Alan C. Zumwalt

Copyright© 2013 by Alan C. Zumwalt

Romantic Sex Story: Is it possible for two women who have never been attracted to women be attracted to each other? And what will they do about it?

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Group Sex   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Squirting   .

I had never thought of myself as a lesbian, until I met Christina. I mean sure, I was 24 and single, but that was not too old, not in this day and age. I had had boyfriends before, but none of them seemed to work out. They usually broke up with me, having found someone else. But that was to be expected. There are more girls than guys. They can be picky.

On the other hand, I had never been too upset when they had broken up with me. Even Eric, to whom I'd lost my virginity, and had hinted that he had wanted to get engaged, didn't draw a tear from me when his job had him move out of state. I wasn't willing to uproot and move.

And why wasn't I willing to move? It's not like my job as a manager of a used record store was such a big career opportunity. If I had truly loved him I would have moved, to stay with him.

Still, I told everyone, and myself, that I was still looking for Mr. Right. No one had questioned me as to whether I was being honest with myself; and it hadn't occurred to me that I might be gay.

I had met lesbians before. They had been these real butch girls, who dressed so androgynous, you had to look carefully to determine if she was in fact a she. I found nothing sexually appealing about them.

But, then came Christina. She moved in across the hall from the apartment where I lived.

I lived in an old two story building from the 1920's, with four apartments on each floor. It was one of a four of these buildings in a row, on a major street, in the older part of town. They could have been real dumps, but the owner and landlord, Mr. Owens and his wife, made the effort to keep them well maintained.

You may have noticed that I have made an effort to not name specific places. That's because I don't want to get anyone into trouble, or embarrass them. All names have been changed as well. Let's just say that I lived in a medium-sized Midwestern city.

Back to Christina: The apartment across the hall from me, 2D, had been empty for about a month since Mr. Lowenstein had died. He claimed that he had lived in the building since the end of World War II, and I believed him. He was a nice old man who kept mostly to himself, but was friendly if you wanted to talk. His body had been discovered by the Meals-On-Wheels lady, who visited him every day.

Anyway: One Tuesday morning, I was awoken to the sound of boxes being dragged down the hall. I had the day off, so I was sleeping in. With the rent rates the Owens charge, I knew that a new tenant was likely soon. Wearing just my nightshirt I peeked out my front door.

A few yards down from my door was a woman, about my age, pulling a ridiculously large box down the hardwood hallway. Her blonde hair was disheveled, and she was wearing torn jean and an old tee shirt, but there was an aura about her that seemed to surround her. She looked up at me and smiled. "Hi, I'm Christina Hughes, your new neighbor."

That smile seemed to have its own power source. Its glow stunned me for a second. Regaining my composure, I smiled back. "Audra Caldwell. Looks like you could use some help."

She gestured at her load in despair. "I think I got too large boxes for my move."

I shook my head. "Looks like you got them at Best Buy. Next time go to a liquor store. Their boxes are just the right size."


"Let me get some clothes on, and I'll help you out."

A look of gratitude filled her face; a look that filled me with warmth. I would do anything to see that look again. "Really? Thank you so much. I owe you."

I raced to my dresser and quickly threw on some old clothes similar to hers.

For the next two hours I helped Christina wrestle her overly large cardboard boxes out of her rental trailer and up the stairs. We brought up her furniture and helped assemble her queen-sized bed, small kitchen table and chairs. All of which were new, bought at Ikea.

During this process I learned some things. Christina Anne Hughes, 22, was born and raised in L.A. She had just graduated from UCLA with a bachelor's degree in meteorology. She got hired by one of the major television networks, and was starting here as the local weatherperson.

"With your looks I can see why," I quipped.

She did not even feign modesty. "But I want to show that I not a bubble-headed weathergirl. I know my stuff. I graduated top of my class, and am half of my way to my Master's."

"Well you are in the right place to prove yourself. Midwest weather is so variable."

Christine nodded. "I asked for this area. It is known for its wild weather swings."

By the time we were done, it was past noon. My new neighbor wiped a dirty smudge on her cheek. "Thank you so much for your help. You are a lifesaver. Let me buy you lunch."

I'd had no breakfast, and the mention of food made my stomach gurgle. I blushed in embarrassment. "That's sounds great. Get whatever you want. I'm not a picky eater."

She pulled two twenties out of her purse and handed them to me. "Oh no, I'm leaving it up to you. This is your town. You know where the great local restaurants are. Go get what's great."

"How does barbecue sound?"

"That sounds perfect."

I got in my ten year old Honda and drove a half mile to get some barbecued turkey and hot links, and coleslaw from my favorite barbecue place. I was back in ten minutes with the food.

I knocked on her door.

She opened door, and I dropped the bag.

Christine was completely nude. She obviously didn't have any modesty problems. She had a body that would be right at home in the center of any men's magazine. Her legs were long and lean, and her stomach was flat. Her breasts and hips were large, round and firm, giving her a perfect hourglass figure. Aside from the long blonde hair on her hair, she was completely hairless.

My crotch instantly became sopping wet, and my nipples felt like they'd punch a hole through my tee shirt.

She didn't make me feel bad about my astonishment. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon. I just took a quick shower. Do you know which box has my clothes?"

"I-I should go take a shower too. I'll smell horrible next to you."

"Nah! You're fine. If I know anything about barbecue, it is best eaten hot."

"No! I need to shower. You go ahead and eat. I'll be back soon." I bolted out the door.

In the shower, I masturbated furiously. I didn't understand what was happening to me. Nobody, man or woman, had affected me like that before. I typically didn't get aroused by visual images, most often I got hot from mental images from novels and audio stories. There I could paint an idealized picture in my mind that no photo or drawing could equal. But with this woman it was different. I hadn't felt this turned on in long time, if ever.

I rubbed between my legs frantically. My clit was on fire, and my orgasms came hard and fast. I had never come so much at one time before. My legs buckled and I collapsed to the floor of the shower. I am glad my bathroom was far from the hall or Christina would have heard my screams.

I returned to Christina's apartment, freshly scrubbed, about twelve minutes after I'd left. "Sorry I took so long," I said.

"Don't worry about it," she said with a smile. Fortunately, for me, she was fully clothed again. "Now we can reheat the food and eat." One thing that we'd taken up, and immediately plugged in, was the microwave.

As we ate, we talked about boys. She'd had a boyfriend at UCLA, who was also meteorology major. He got a job with the National Weather Service. They were realistic enough to know that a long distance relationship wouldn't last, so they broke up at the end of the school year as friends.

I went into my litany of boyfriend frustrations, when my new neighbor interrupted me. "Would you like a little advice, Audra?"


"You'd probably have better luck with guys if you got rid some of those piercings."

I had a nose stud, a pierced eyebrow, three earrings on each ear, and a loop through my lip. I had gotten a lot of compliments about my unique fashion sense. My parents hated it, of course.

People have told me that I'd get more boys if I lost the piercings before, but I had ignored them. I had my own style, and I was sticking to it. But suddenly, the opinion of this woman, who I've known 3 hours, meant a lot to me.

"You really think so?" I asked.

She nodded, "Unless you want to date only tattoo artists. But that's just what I think. Make up your own mind."

"Actually, it was a tattoo artist I was dating who did all these piercings."

"Are there any more piercings? Got any, you know, down there?"

I blushed. "He advised against it. He said that piercings on your nipple or clit could lead to loss of sensitivity."

Christina laughed. "We wouldn't want that!"

"What about the pink stripe in my hair? Should I keep that?"

"Oh, definitely! It's quirky, and accentuates your looks. It doesn't distract, like all the hardware."

I stood up, and walked into my neighbor's still empty bathroom. Without any doubts or regrets, I took out all the rings and studs that decorated my face, except for one pair of earrings. Christina followed me in, and watched the procedure. Once I was finished, turned my face to her. "Is this better?" I asked.

"Oh, yes! That's much better. The holes will close up in a few months. I think you'll get much more attention from the fellas now."

I blushed and turned away. Again I felt moisture form between my legs. God damn it! What is this girl doing to me? Girls don't excite me. Guys do.

"So this tattooist boyfriend, did he actually tattoo you?"

"He wanted to. But I couldn't find a design I wanted to wear for the rest of my life. He broke up with me before I had come to a decision."

The rest of the day, and into the night, I helped her unpack and assemble her new furniture. We talked about our pasts, our favorite movies, celebrities, and music. I told her to stop by my workplace, and I'd introduce her to some truly awesome classic rock.

I broke out a large frozen pizza, and shared it with her for supper. I figured it was the right thing to do, since she paid for lunch.

As we ate, she started talking about her upcoming job at Channel 9. She didn't start work until the next Monday, so she had some time. "I want to spend some time getting a feel for this city. Do you think you give me some pointers on what to see in town?"

"I can do better than that. I have tomorrow off, until 4, so I can give you a guided tour."

"That would be great," she enthused. "Audra, you're the best!"

Again I got that physical response. There was something about this woman that was affecting me.

Finally, after a couple more hours, she'd had enough of me, for the day. She stretched and yawned. "I need to get some sleep. I've had a long day."

I headed to the door. "Me too; let's meet here at 10am tomorrow. Then I'll give you the grand tour of our fair city, such that it is."

"Sounds great!"

That night, I had trouble sleeping. I couldn't get Christina out of my mind. What is it about her that's got me so hot and bothered? To this day, I don't know. Sure, she had a spectacular body, but it was more than that. She had a sweetness to her, a generosity of spirit that made my heart glow.

My dreams were filled with Christina's naked body. Her perfect breasts and flat belly undulated through my mind. I woke up twice in the middle of the night, so aroused I could not go back to sleep until I masturbated and came at least once.

The next morning, I learned the answer to one of my questions. With the way she ate, Christina either had really good genes or she worked out like crazy. It turned out to be the latter.

When we climbed into her car, a two year old Audi, to start the city tour, her first question was "Where is the nearest gym?" Now, I was not much of an exercise girl, as anyone who looked at my body could tell you, but I did know of a fitness facility about a mile away.

"Fitness Revolution" was not as fancy as her old workout center in Los Angeles, but it was a women's only facility, and it was open 24 hours a day. Both of them were major shopping points for her. "I don't know when I'll start on the air. It could be at 10pm, or it could be early morning. A gym with flexible hours will be a major help."

After the tour, we were escorted into a room, for the sales pitch. I had made it clear that I was not there to join. I was just accompanying my friend. But in the pitch room we were informed that the special this month was two memberships for the price of one. That all changed.

"You've got to join too," Christina cried.

"But I can't afford it," I protested.

"It's free for you. I'll pay the cost."

"I don't think so..." I said, all my usual protests rendered inert.

She grabbed my hands and begged. "Oh please! Working out is so much more fun when you are doing it with a buddy."

I reluctantly agreed.

The rest of the city tour went well. I showed her the zoo, the museums, the main arenas, and the universities. I also taught her the general layout of the city, which was basically a flat grid. I introduced her to some of the better food trucks for lunch.

The rest of the week, I returned to my normal routine, with a few changes. I went to work, and spent most of the rest of the time with my new neighbor. She spent most of her time at the TV station, getting familiar with the equipment, co-workers and news set.

By the second day there, she had a new boyfriend. His name was Dwaine, and he was the sales manager for a local fast food chain, that spent a lot of advertising money at the station. Christina introduced him to me, and he seemed a nice enough guy, but I didn't trust him. He had a busy schedule, and could only date her on Wednesdays and Fridays. He had a small apartment on the far side of town, but wanted to spend most of the time at Christina's.

The next Monday, her first day on the air, she invited me to come to the set and see her perform live I had never been on to a television station before, and so I was a bit awed.

Christina introduced me to her co-workers and production staff as her "neighbor and best friend." That made me beam with pride.

Before she went on the air during the 10pm news, they had her put on a pair of black 4" pumps. Not used to such high heels, she walked around precariously. They may have been awkward, but they made her legs look great.

Dwaine showed up, just before she went on, to watch.

Her performance was spectacular. Her on-air presence had just the right mix of warmth, competence, and knowledge. It was obvious that she was not just some ditzy piece of eye candy.

Everyone on set was very complimentary, and Dwaine took us both out for drinks to celebrate, at a watering hole a few blocks from our apartment.

After one drink, it became obvious that I was a fifth wheel. So I made an excuse, and left for home.

About a half hour later, I heard the two of them stumble up the stairs and down the hall to Christina's apartment. A few minutes later, I opened my door, and heard them having sex through the walls. Her cries of pleasure even penetrated the old thick walls.

Jealousy boiled in me as I listened in. But what was I jealous of? It was then that I admitted to myself, that I was in love with her.

I started conspiring to break them up. I called in sick the next Wednesday, their next date night. I left my apartment when they returned from a movie, and waited outside in my car. I didn't want to be witness to more of their sexual passion. When he left the building, and climbed into his Lexus, I followed him.

I had never done anything like this before, but I think I did a pretty good job of following him close, but not too close.

I was not surprised when he did not go to his apartment. Instead, he headed to one of the affluent sections of town. He pulled into a driveway, in front of very nice house. He went up the walk, and was greeted by a woman and a boy, which I could only assume were his wife and son.

I had the presence of mind to get out my smartphone, and take some pictures, in the darkening late June light. They were not perfect, but you could recognize Dwaine face and car. His last name was on the mailbox.

So, now that I had the goods on him, the question I asked myself, as I drove home, was what to do with it. How would Christina react to me telling her the news? Would it strain our new friendship? Maybe I should show my evidence to Dwaine, and have him break it off.

In the end, I asked myself, if I was Christina, would I want to know? I answered that question with an emphatic "Hell yes!" As I pulled in front of our homes, I resolved tell her the truth.

She answered her door wearing just her nightie, that was a little too sheer for my comfort. She saw how serious I was, and let me in without question.

I started talking about the suspicions I had about Dwaine. Most women would have interrupted me, trying to defend her boyfriend. But Christina just sat on her couch, as I paced back and forth, across the room, taking what I said in.

When I showed her the pictures I had taken, she started to tear up. I put my hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry," I said.

She hugged me as she started to cry. I could feel her tears on my shoulder, and more disturbing, her breasts touch mine. I did not return the embrace, for fear of losing control.

After a minute, she let go, and returned to the couch. Sniffling, she said "You're a good friend, Aud. Thank you for letting me know the truth. Now, could you e-mail me those pictures, and then delete them from your phone?"

As I did as she asked. "What are you going to do with them?"

"I'll have to decide. His wife needs to know what kind of man he is."

"She probably already knows. I'm sure you're not the first girl he's slept with. He may be dating another girl on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"You're right. But I better make sure."

After that, Christina was more cautious getting involved with other men.

Going to the gym was more fun than I expected. Christina was right; having someone to exercise with made the experience more entertaining, especially when you have someone as knowledgeable as my new best friend. She knew all about the various apparatuses in the weight room. Seeing how strong she was intimidated me at little. I had to take off at least a hundred pounds off any lifting equipment she had just used.

The added bonus was getting to watch her take off her clothes in the locker room, and then cover her body with soapy water in the shower. And I wasn't the only one. I observed several other women ogle my girlfriend's lean and luscious frame.

Now that I had admitted that I was in love with her, I had to decide what I was going to do about it. I tried the same trick as I did with Dwaine. Would I want some girl to tell me that she was in love with me? The answer was, not really. I would be very uncomfortable around her. I definitely would not want to strip in front of her in a locker room.

Using those criteria, I decided to keep my attraction to myself. There might come a time when I spoke my feelings, but it would not be any time soon.

About two months later, I watched the Channel 9 news, per normal. Christina did her usual wonderful job. I turned off the TV, put on some classic rock on my record player, and waited for my neighbor to come home.

After two hours I started to worry. She usually was home in about an hour. Finally, I heard her coming up the stairs, but I wasn't her usual gait. They were slow and sounded labored.

I opened my front door and saw that Christina was on crutches. Her left foot was wrapped in bandages. "Christina! What happened?"

She smiled weakly. "Right after our broadcast, there was an accident. I was walking off the set, when a large spotlight fell from the ceiling."

"Oh, no!" I cried.

"It missed me by a good two feet. But it startled me, and I lost my balance on those stupid heels, and twisted my ankle."

"Why did the light fall?" I asked.

"The tech people said that it was part of an old lighting system that they didn't take out when the new lights were put in. They didn't even know that it was still up there."

"That's dangerous; leaving old equipment up there to rot."

"I'm sure there will be an inquiry into it."

I almost hugged her, but I stopped myself and put a hand on her shoulder. "You were lucky. That light could have killed you."

"Easily; that light weighed at least 200 pounds."

"How long are you going to be on those crutches?"

"The paramedics said that I should be okay in a week or two. I'm supposed to see my doctor tomorrow. But I don't have one, yet."

"I'll get you in to see mine. She's real good."

"Sounds good."

I took her key ring out of her hand, and helped her unlock her front door. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Not until the morning. Right now, I tired. I just want to get some sleep."

"Of course you do. I'll see you in the morning."

When I closed my door, with me inside, I found my heart beating like a rabbit. I had come close to losing my love, without her ever knowing how I feel. This put everything into a new perspective. I needed to profess my love to her, and soon.

The next day, I took Christina to see my doctor, Dr. Veronica Kokintz. The physician told her that she had a strained Achilles tendon. She should stay off of it for about a week. She set an appointment to look at it again, in seven days' time.

As I walked her to her apartment door, I said "We need to talk."

"Could we do this later?" she asked wearily. "I didn't get much sleep last night. My foot kept waking me up, every time I tried to turn over. I need a nap in the worst way."

"I understand. Why don't I bring over some food at 6pm? We can talk then."

"That sounds perfect. You're a good friend, Audra."

The rest of the day, I spent getting ready. I went to the grocery and got the makings for my mom's lasagna recipe, some garlic bread, and a red wine to go with it. I was not much of a cook, but that one big dish was my specialty that I pulled out when I wanted to impress someone. I put it, uncooked, in the fridge. I'd put it in the oven at 5:15pm.

With that out of the way, I looked at my wardrobe. What did one wear when you wanted to seduce another woman? I decided on my miracle bra with matching thong panties. I rarely wore a dress, but I decided to wear my little black dress, with the plunging neckline. I wore it sometimes, when I went clubbing.

Satisfied with my choices, I took off my clothes, and took a shower. After I had dried off, I walked to my full-length mirror and looked at my body with a critical eye. Working out every day with Christina had really paid off. Though far from perfect, I had never looked better. My tummy was flatter, and my thighs were more toned. Give me a few more months and I'd look as good as possible, with what I have to work with. I'd never look like Christina. She had genes on her side.

I stared at my hairy pits and untrimmed bush. Christina liked her body shaved. Should I do the same? Impulsively, I pulled out the kitchen scissors and cut off as much hair as possible, without cutting myself. I broke out the shaving cream I used infrequently to shave my legs. I started with I was comfortable with, and did my legs, all the way up to the thighs.

Putting on a new cartridge, I moved on to my arm pits. It was awkward shaving there, especially when I had to use my left hand to shave my right pit. I did it three times before I was satisfied with its smoothness.

I gulped with anxiety as I turned the most delicate of areas, my pubes. I thought about asking Christina to help me, but ruled it out. I wanted it to be a surprise. I generously coated the whole area with the shaving cream. With a slight tremor, I started shaving as far from my clit as possible, and worked my way in.

I found the experience arousing. I had been feeling horny in anticipation ever since we got back from the doctor's office; and this had almost pushed me over the edge. Fluid was leaking from my slit, and my breath was coming out in small gasps. I was on the verge of coming. That I didn't want. I wanted all my sexual energy to go to Christina tonight. Unfortunately, there was a good possibility she'd reject me. In that case, I'd have to suffer the pain of sexual frustration. I was willing to take the risk. I put down the razor, and tried to think of anything else, for a few minutes. After I had regained control, I continued the process.

Again, like the pits, I was not satisfied with the initial results. So I repeated the process. After try number three, I was still unsatisfied. There were hairs in the crease between the pelvis and thighs that were hard to reach with a razor. I found a pair of tweezers, and plucked the longer ones. Sighing, I decided I did the best I could. I was hoping that Christina would help me touch up later.

Using the tweezers, I plucked my eyebrows into some semblance of a shape.

My skin was feeling sticky from the shaving cream, so I decided to shower again. I looked at the clock, and saw that it was almost 5, so I preheated the oven before I got in the shower. When I got out, I put the lasagna in.

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