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Female, sophomore at Tufts, single, bi-curious
2:01 p.m. Finished my last final. Thank f*ck. Packed up for my trip home, get the hell off campus. I’m beyond stoked to be done for the semester.
3:15 p.m. Traffic is horrible, wonder which bag I packed my vibrator in. Masturbating on the highway could be kinda hot.
6:12 p.m. Decide I can’t face annoying adult conversation just yet, so I pull into a local ice cream shop. I need serious sugar before enduring an hour of parental pestering. On line, when I notice a curvy brunette. Lindsay. The last time we saw each other, there was a lot left to discuss.
6:13 p.m. L notices me and runs over with child-like excitement. Thank God she isn’t pissed about how the last summer ended.
6: 20 p.m. Ice cream and conversation ensue. I’m not gay – and I’d never discuss this with people I go to school with – but I can’t deny my attraction to this girl. We met last summer when I was picking up my little brother from summer camp. She was a counselor. I actually had a boyfriend at the time, but when I saw her jogging over to the car with my brother my stomach jump to my throat. It wasn’t until the drive home that I realized my panties were wet.
7:01 p.m. My mom calls, dinner is waiting. Damn. Before getting into the car L asks if I’m still seeing “that toolbag boyfriend.” No. She leans in and kisses my cheek. She smells like grass. And sweat. I rush home.
9:46 p.m. Back in my own room, sprawled out on my bed. Tiredness hits me like a ton of bricks, but my mind wanders to last summer. Me on this bed and L in between my legs. Is it wrong to want a repeat?
11:03 a.m. Finish unpacking my car, call L to see if she’s working weekends. Nope. She tells me to come over.
11:30 a.m. Wildly, irrationally nervous on the drive over. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into with L last summer, but I certainly didn’t think about my boyfriend when it was happening. When I finally confessed that I was in a relationship, L went ballistic. When I left to go back to Tufts, we weren’t speaking.
11: 40 a.m. Uhh, she’s definitely not mad anymore. I’m barely through the door when she pounces, hands wrapped around my neck. Is it possible she’s been wanting this even more than me?
11:43 a.m. I mess up the whole scenario by asking about her parents. They’re in Spain and she’s house-sitting. We have the house to ourselves.
11: 47 a.m. We make our way to the dining room. She wants me to lie down on the table, but I refuse. Jesus, I’m nervous. I point to the sofa and let her push me on it.
11: 50 a.m. She’s kissing down my stomach, then moves to my inner thighs. I’m wet with anticipation because she has an amazing tongue. I’ll probably be done before the she gets really into it.
11:52 a.m. A vision of my Catholic mother beating me with a Bible flashes through my mind. Maybe this was not a good decision.
11:53 a.m. F*ck my mother. I’m coming.
12: 06 p.m. L pulls me up by my sweaty, limp limbs. We moved to the den. We’re both naked and I love her new nipple piercing. As I start to play with them, her phone rings. She walks into the other room to take the call. Panic sets in. What the hell am I doing? I quickly get dressed. Must leave, must leave now.
12: 08 p.m. Feel slightly disappointed as I head out to my car. L didn’t even attempt to stop me. I guess she’s used to me bolting.
11:50 p.m. L calls to ask why I freaked. I make some excuse about needing to help my mom. I can hear her rolling her eyes over the phone. Whatever. I’m not gay like Lindsay, I’m just experimenting. There’s nothing wrong with that. Right? But then why can’t I shake the feeling I shouldn’t start to get involved with her again?
2: 32 p.m. The guy I occasionally screw at college calls to see if I got home safely. Feel vaguely pissed that he waited almost two days to call me. Even if we don’t have a “real” relationship, he should’ve called me sooner. Then again, I didn’t call to check on him at all.
2:41 p.m. He starts talking dirty. I’m sort of into it. For whatever reason his line, “I want to feel your soft skin and kiss your sexy lips,” makes me giggle. Sexy lips? I can tell he’s pissed. I apologize, but we can’t pick up where we left off.
2: 52 p.m. A text message from Lindsay, I have to ignore it.
6:09 p.m. Best friend comes over to catch up. She’s home from Oberlin and the only person I’ve ever told about L. Decide not to tell her about what’s already happened this week. I want to figure out my head before I start blabbing details.
10:00 p.m. Feeling too confused and guilty to masturbate. Damn.
1:45 p.m. Drive to the mall to get some something sexy for a party that night.
2:15 p.m. Screw sexiness. I want sweatpants. Head for the Gap.
2:25 p.m. Look up from the sale rack to see Lindsay chatting with a sales girl. Jesus! This b*tch is everywhere! Starting to think it’s my destiny to hook up with her.
2: 26 p.m. We try on clothes together. She slips into my dressing room and shuts the door. My heart is pounding but I don’t stop her when she reaches into my underwear to touch my sweet spot.
2:27 p.m. Moan. Loudly. Mortification.
2:28 p.m. L covers my mouth so I won’t squeal. Panic when I hear another chick come into the dressing room. Push her away, try to control my breathing.
2:31 p.m. L walks out without a care in the world. Yells that she wants to try on something else. I’m shaking. That was like a sexual blitzkrieg.
2:54 p.m. At the register and she whispers she loves the way my ass looks in the sweats I’m buying. I grimace, scared the cashier will hear her. We live in a small town and if anyone ever found out I was messing around, my life would be over. Tell L I have to go home to do some stuff. As I’m leaving I call over my shoulder I definitely want to see her tomorrow.
1:16 a.m. I still feel horny from that little dressing room session. I put on the Superbad DVD.
2:11 a.m. I lock my bedroom door to finish where she left off. Thank god for vibrators. Vibrators are God’s gift to women. It’s pretty ironic my ex-boyfriend bought me mine.
7:45 p.m. Best friend calls to tell me about a mutual friend’s party. Decide a few vodka shots would certainly help my twisted mind.
9:10 p.m. At party, the smell of pot is everywhere. Just like old times. I see an old high school crush making drinks in the kitchen. He’s wearing a wife-beater and jeans. How can I get so turned on by L and yet still find a greasy meathead hot? Make a mental note to find a decent shrink.
10:08 p.m. Prancing around the house singing Sublime’s “Santeria.” It’s been less than an hour and I’m already buzzed. Keep ‘em coming.
9:42 p.m. Meathead slides up next to me, offers to make me a “special cock-tail.” Cocktail? Uggg.
10:03 p.m. Text L.
11:12 p.m. Peer over my shoulder to see my best friend making out with a mutual guy friend. Meathead man offers me another drink. I’m tempted to tell him I like **** way more than penis but that would probably just turn him on.
11:15 p.m. Still no word for L. Shots.
11:48 p.m. I’ve been drinking more than I should because I want Lindsay… to do everything. Call for a cab, pray I won’t vomit. I feel more than a little nauseous.
11:51 p.m. Almost home, can’t believe L didn’t get back to me. Realize I should be glad because now I have an excuse to keep her at a distance.
12:15 p.m. Wake up groggy and cotton mouthed. I look over at my cell phone and see a text message from Lindsay. Sh*t. I hope she doesn’t think I want her. Wait… don’t I?
2:00 p.m. Shower, put on a bathing suit to tan in the yard. I can see the neighbor’s son gawking at me over the hedges.
2:05 p.m. Decide to give the boy a brief lesson in female anatomy. I take off my bikini top and slowly roll onto my stomach, definitely slow enough to give them enough time to check out my breasts.
2:15 p.m. Neighbor boy scurries off, probably to jerk off.
5:00 p.m. Receive a message from Jenny, she’s having a spur of the moment party with all our friends from high school. This is going to be one of those nights.
10:07 p.m. I walk in through the side door of her house. There are cars parked all over the place. I wore my shortest pair of shorts. My plan? Meet a hot guy and erase Lindsay from my mind tonight.
11:11 p.m. Tequila shots with an old flame from sophomore year of high school. He looks really good! I haven’t seen him months and the tequila makes him look better with every passing moment.
12:03 a.m. Drunk, drunk, drunk tongue kissing.
1:17 a.m. Move to the basement. I hate that it feels twenty times better to hook-up drunk than sober.
1:23 a.m. Jared strips off my tank top and almost rips my new bra. Why do men always have to rip everything? He attacks my breasts like an ogre.
1:36 a.m. We’re inches from sex, him behind me when we hear the steps creaking. It’s Jenny. “Can you guys take that somewhere else?” she demands. F*ck. Is this really happening?
1:40 a.m. The mood is ruined. Decide to head home.
2:45 p.m. Hung over again. Feel like a*s, vowed never to drink tequila again.
2:55 p.m. Contemplate texting L. Hear my mother vacuuming downstairs. No, no, no
3:30 p.m. Mother harasses me relentlessly about getting a summer job. Gimme a break.
5:00 p.m. Call best friend, confess I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Agrees to come over to watch an America’s Next Top Model marathon.
One act of oral sex with another girl, one act of dressing room seduction, two episodes of binge drinking, one basement hookup, one failed attempt at phone sex, 152 hours of relentless guilt.
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