Sapphic Embrace: The Housewife Read Free Page B

stuffed walrus my grandmother had given me as a birthday present and dialed Kathy's number from memory.
    When her voice came out of the receiver and filled my brain, my frenzied angry thoughts silenced, and my head was full of nothing but images of her smiling face.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FOUR
    Kathy: A Five Percenter
     
     
    The guy behind the counter at the dirty motel was named Wesley. He was cute and seemed nice enough, so when I decided that I didn't like any women enough to be successful as a lesbian despite my desire for women's bodies, Wesley seemed like my best best for a male partner. I was going to miss women, I thought, but Wesley stirred some passion in my loins, and I thought maybe I could make it work.
    I know I'm butch, and Wesley probably could have gotten someone much "hotter" than me. But I wasn't ashamed about what I was doing -- I didn't care if he only gave me a pity fuck or had trouble getting hard. I wanted to be with someone and have someone else's body make me feel good, and frankly, I didn't care about the circumstances.
    But when we got to back his place, and the kissing progressed to some light necking, and his rough manly hands slipped underneath my blouse, tweaking my nipples and caressing them, his slimy tongue moving from my mouth, down my neck to my breasts, I realized that this was simply not going to work. I was about as turned on as I would have been from riding a horse -- there was a certain physically stimulative effect, but I had no interest in going any further.
    He didn't take it very well. He probably thought he could do better than me and was insulted that I didn't exult in his deigning to screw me.
    "You're leaving?" he asked, astonished, his shirt on the floor, his face slick with his own spit. I buttoned my blouse back up, glad to cover my breasts from his leering gaze again.
    "I'm sorry, Wesley. You're very nice," I said, "It's just... I'm a lesbian. I always have been. I thought I might be like 5% straight and I haven't had much luck with women lately-"
    "Tell me about it..."
    "I'm sorry, it's not you. I just realized I'm not even 5% straight."
    "So that was it? If I had known this was the last time you were ever going to give penis a whirl, I might have tried a little harder. I feel like I let my sex down," Wesley said.
    "Really it wasn't your fault."
    "Was I really that bad?"
    "No, it's not you. I'm a lesbian."
    "I turned you off to men, forever."
    "I was already turned off to men. You just made me... remember how much I don't like men."
    "Thanks. I'm glad I could reaffirm your lesbianism. You could have told me. I thought you wanted to get laid. By a penis," he said
    "Would you have still invited me to your place?" I asked.
    "What? Of course. Even a 5% chance of getting laid is better than 0%. It won't work out nineteen times out of twenty, but it's still-"
    "My loins are not a statistic."
    "Well my erection is," he said, "And now I got blue balls cuz of you, you stupid dyke. Just get the fuck out so I can jack off alone."
    I felt a surge of tears, but I didn't want him to see them, so I darted out of the bedroom and the apartment, slamming the door shut behind me. Men could be so disgusting, I thought. I wished I could go tell Betty what happened, she was always happy to commiserate with me about men, but I knew she away for the weekend, at a couples retreat with Jim. She had hoped to fix her marriage this weekend, and I couldn't interrupt that.
    I wanted to go back to my hotel room, but the prospect of sitting there alone all weekend made me want to cry, so I drove around with no destination in mind. Without thinking about it, I ended up in front of our old home, where Christina still lived.
    I wasn't sure if I was going to make up with Christina, didn't know if I wanted to or if she would even have me again. Probably not, I thought, but still, that didn't stop me from going up the walkway through the manicured lawn and onto the porch