Note: This is an edited version of an older post, in honor of fisting day today.
Some days I miss her open smile and her soft tongue. I miss her buzz cut and her strength. The sound of her voice, her lisp. I don’t know where she is now. Last I heard she was on a farm. She sent me a letter about how she learned to cut timber. She bought a portable saw that cut timber from logs and she hauled it around and bartered lumber for what she wanted.
What she wanted was darkroom time and supplies. Maybe other things too, but I remember the darkroom. I wrote back asking how many people want lumber for darkroom time. How does that work? I don’t know if she wrote me back or not. I might have moved and missed her letter. We lost touch.
She was a powerful force. I knew her for a year or so before I slept with her. I never expected to sleep with her. I didn’t think she would be interested and I didn’t feel worthy. Her reputation was intimidating. She was a bull. She had many lovers, including women in other states. I couldn’t begin to imagine how that was even possible.
We studied together. She was helping me try to pass biology. I was out of my league. She was brilliant and patient with me, laughing and scolding me for never reading any assignments. “You’re an idiot,” she laughed, “You are way too smart to be failing. I don’t understand you.”
But I knew that she secretly understood everything. She knew that i couldn’t possibly study. I was only able to think about women and sex and being out and how to get that girl to fuck me and how to ask that girl out. Studying was low on the list. I was free and could not do anything but be openly, violently queer. So we studied. She walked me through it all so sweetly and then sat next to me in the lectures helping me piece everything together. I was an idiot.
One night I found myself outside her door. I knocked. She cracked the door open. It was 2am. She had been sleeping. She smiled at me and didn’t say anything. I said, “Can I sleep here and will you hold me but not do anything else?” She swung the door open and led me to her bed. She watched me strip down to my boxers and then pulled me onto the bed and held me tight. It felt wonderful and completely non-sexual. I slept deeply in her arms.
I woke up hearing her voice whispering in Spanish followed by the door closing. I knew it was one of her girlfriends. “Sorry,” she said and came back to bed. We talked for about an hour and I asked her how she dealt with having so many lovers. “I don’t know,” she said, “I love them all and I guess they can tell that.” She really didn’t know. I had never asked her girlfriends directly but there seemed to be jealousy. More than I think she was aware of. I got dressed and went out by myself for breakfast. I couldn’t figure out why I ended up at her dorm at 2am. I didn’t know why I’d slept there, but I felt so calm. I studied that day. Went to the library, skipped lunch, went home to shower and change and then I went back to her room.
I heard raised voices inside and started to walk away but the door jerked open. Her girlfriend glared and pushed by me, stomping down the hall. I stood there watching until I was pulled inside. I sat down on the floor and she sat down next to me. “She’s angry about you,” she said. “But nothing happened,” I answered. “True. But she can tell how I feel about you.”
She said this as if it was an obvious thing we both already knew. She picked up her notebook and sat down on the floor, ready to study. That wasn’t a line. She wasn’t trying to get me in bed. She was stating a fact. We studied late. I slept there again. And again we just slept while she held me.
I woke up and she was sitting on the edge of the bed staring at me with a wide grin. I could see the tip of her tongue between her teeth like she was about to say something. I stared at her for a while, slow to wake up, and finally I smiled back at her. “You are so nice to sleep with,” I told her and she jumped on me. She pinned my shoulders down and sat on my hips. She was smiling so big it made me laugh. She kissed me. Not a soft, warming kiss. But a kiss like we were right in the middle of it. An overwhelming first kiss. So powerful and bold it hit me like lightning. I threw her off of me and steadied myself while she laughed. I grabbed the back of her neck and she pulled away playfully. I was going to have to catch her. This was a game.
I had no experience to help me understand this. The sex I’d known was soft, slow, groping, gentle, feminine. This was a match. This required my wits and skill. This was going to be fun.
We caught each other and kissed and pulled away and chased each other. We bobbed and side-stepped like boxers. There were no words. She was much stronger, but it felt like a fair fight. She was out of breath before I was. She was dressed and I was still just wearing the boxers I’d slept in. She pulled her sweater off over her head and took off the t-shirt underneath. Her breasts were larger than I had imagined. She was so incredibly masculine that it just never occurred to me that she had large breasts. But she did. Her body was stunning. Thick and muscular with hands I’d describe as meaty and yet these large, very feminine breasts. “Take off your jeans,” I said softly.
She walked towards me until our bodies touched. I undid her belt and jeans and she pulled them off. She was wearing men’s briefs and I tugged a little on them. I slid them down to the floor and she stepped out of them. “Do you want to get high?” she asked me. “No,” I said. She smiled and picked me up. She scooped me up like in the movies and kissed me while she carried me over to the bed. Even at the time I thought it was silly and absurd but it was also just fucking amazing. She was a legend for good reason.
I can’t explain this, but when she picked me up it was like we were pre-historic. This wasn’t a romantic husband carrying his wife over the threshold. It was lust scooping up a prize to take back to the cave. It was ancient. And it felt amazing.
She threw me on the bed and kneeled between my legs, pulling my boxers off. The chasing was foreplay but clearly we were now fucking. “You have a beautiful cunt,” she told me. She said it sweetly and her tone surprised me. She was this beast but always so sweet and almost polite. She put one hand on my knee and the other between my legs. She was slow exploring my cunt. Her fingers moved through my pubic hair, pulling and twisting it a little. Using the back of her hand, she nudged her index finger first and then all her fingers into my wetness and stroked me with her knuckles. I watched her face and saw the look of a curious child in her expressions. She would pause and smile and look at me with pure happiness. I felt completely open and unashamed. That feeling was a gift she gave me.
With one hand still on my knee, she pushed two fingers inside me. Now she looked at my face searchingly; she was reading me. Her fingers felt incredible inside me. She fucked me like this very slowly. After what felt like several minutes she added a third finger inside me. And much later a fourth. “I think you’re opening up for my whole hand,” she said. I was shocked, “Really? I’ve never done that.” She smiled so big and said, ‘”I haven’t either.” Soon her whole hand was inside me. I felt incredible. The feeling was more like pure power than it was sexual. I wasn’t sure I would climax but she was stayed with me. She bent down, softly tongued my clit and my whole body ignited. I had never had an orgasm like that. It was everywhere inside me and on my flesh. I can’t describe it accurately. We had to take our time, I was closed tightly around her hand. None of it was planned, it just happened, slowly and steadily.
And then she fucked me again. I had gone down on her and after she came, she could tell I was so turned on again so she pulled me onto her face. I put my arms up against the wall and she held my hips in her hands. She pulled me down harder and harder onto her mouth. I came quickly. I looked down at her smiling face and her wet mouth. Her chin was red from having pulled me so hard onto her. I curled up in a ball next to her. “Let’s fuck all day,” I whispered.
She went out and got us some food and supplies. Water, tobacco, whiskey, sandwiches and a toothbrush for me. I laughed at that. She brought me a toothbrush. “You should have one here for when you want to sleep over.” Very practical.
We ate some of the sandwiches. I had a whiskey. She smoked her pipe and rolled me a cigarette. We drank water. We napped. I was still naked but she had her jeans and sweater on again. I held her and the sweater scratched my chest. We fucked all day and into the next. I couldn’t comfortably walk all the way back to my room when I finally left the next day.
We were only lovers for about three months. Years later, I felt regret that I broke things off when I did. I never felt jealous and I always felt deeply loved. But I didn’t understand that it was okay to be that open. That I could choose it.