But I Thought You Were A Lesbian

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between the characters and real individuals is coincidence. All characters are over age eighteen.

*****

The subconscious mind is a vast reservoir of hidden feelings. When finally revealed, they can be a rare gift.

Free food. That's what brought Brent to the new hire welcome party. Otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered. This was just a job and he wasn't into the propaganda about the company being some kind of big family. Please.

But this time, there was a pleasant surprise. Kyra was joining the same team as Brent and they got along right away. Perhaps that was due to the lack of any sexual tension. The thought that Kyra was a lesbian popped into Brent's head as soon as he laid eyes on her. Cute as hell, but with short, boyish hair, flat tennis shoes, nerd glasses, and the lack of earrings and makeup, his lower brain passed judgement, not waiting for higher order brain functions to intervene. He loathed judging books by their covers and he reprimanded himself for making assumptions. What mattered was how comfortable he felt talking to her. Couldn't tell why; he just did.

Kyra's liked Brent too and like him, couldn't explain it. He was married and old enough to be her father, and maybe that was enough. Or maybe it was because he just didn't seem to be ogling her the way a lot of men do. No matter how much she tried to dress down, men usually hit on her.

As it turned out, Brent was half right. Kyra was Bi, but committed to Daz, a strict lesbian. They had an agreement. Kyra could dabble with men on those occasions when insanity was the only other option. As long as Kyra kept it all out of her face and as long as their commitment remained, it was all cool. That was the agreement, but it had never been tested.

Kyra and Brent began their work relationship with clean slates. Without the sexual tension, they developed a kind of fondness for each other. Kyra liked that Brent was nice, respectful, valued her input, and didn't treat her like a piece of meat. She grew to respect him for it and where she usually had an instinctive need for distance from men, she felt comfortable in Brent's presence. They began to shoot the breeze more around the office about movies, books, issues of the day. As for Brent, he liked that Kyra wasn't uncomfortable about his size. At over six feet tall and a good deal north of two hundred pounds, Brent always felt that many women feared him. Besides, their age difference didn't seem to matter; Kyra was far more mature than her years.

One day, everyone was talking about the election and sexual abuse of women. An ugly part of American culture, like the rest of the world, was now not only in full view, it seemed as if it had just been given a big green light and normalized. The richest and most powerful men on Earth were all but openly advocating groping and harassment, if not rape. Women around the workplace openly asked what they should teach their daughters. Kyra arrived that morning frightened and angry, those emotions stuck together like two sides of a coin. As she got her morning coffee, she heard a guy in the break room say to someone, "It's not that big of a deal. I'm sick of trying to be politically correct all the time."

Kyra's felt she had to say something. "It is a big deal. You don't know how it feels, what it does to women. If it had happened to your wife or daughter, you'd understand. Besides, it's not about being politically correct; it's about basic manners and..." She cut herself short. Everyone was looking at the newbie taking on a manager that had been with the company for many years. Kyra walked back to her desk, angry, hurt, and now worried about her job. She didn't see that Brent was nearby and heard the whole thing.

An hour or so later, Brent came by Kyra's cube. She looked at him with her inner turmoil evident in her eyes. He gulped and said, "Hi, Kyra. How are you doing?" Right away, his tone indicated this wasn't about work.

She managed to say, "Hi" rather bluntly and turned toward her coffee.

Brent thought his timing might not be right, but risked it anyway. "You're right," he said. She turned to him with a question on her face. "I heard what you said in the breakroom, and you're right. To speak up, I mean. I thought you should know that."

Kyra didn't know where this was going, but she appreciated what he said. "I was just so pissed off about all this. I made an ass out of myself. Sorry, I just lost my cool. "

"It's a good day for losing one's cool. The whole world is losing it's cool. I hear it's trending."

She managed to smile at his soft joke, but it didn't last. "It's just that guy doesn't know what it does to people. He doesn't know how damaging it is."

"Absolutely. I've seen the damage myself."

She looked up at him, wondering, and feeling, what? Trust? "Oh, so have I..." Kyra began, then blurted out more than she intended, "First hand."

Brent looked at her, nodded, and said, "I'm sorry. That's awful." Those words were lame, he knew. What does one say in such a situation? How could mere words suffice? He resisted the urge to put his arm around her. That couldn't possibly go over well. Still, Brent felt he could trust Kyra. She knew things. She was real. She had feelings and they were out in the open. Then he knew what to say, "You're not alone, you know."

Kyra thought he was talking about other women survivors. "I know. Men just don't understand," she added awkwardly. The words were out and too late she regretted the overgeneralization.

Before she could retract it, he said, "Some do. Some of us understand." He leaned closer, just enough to prompt her to look in his eyes. When she did, he said, "It happens to little boys too, Kyra. I do understand."

Kyra sat back, shocked. "Oh, Brent! I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"I know you didn't. It's okay," he replied with a friendly smile. "I only mention it so that you know you're not alone. Even right here, right now."

"I do know. I appreciate it."

The conversation had to end; both Brent and Kyra had meetings coming up.

Days passed. Kyra felt she had made a good friend at work, and thought that with all the shit going down in the world, friends mattered. Brent felt the same about Kyra.

People often don't notice the feelings that lurk down in their mental cellar. Certainly neither Kyra nor Brent noticed them. Trust and friendship mingled and grew the more they worked together and the more they hung out during breaks.

At the same time, however, other parts of their lives were fraying. Brent had given up on his marriage. It seemed he was the only one working on his issues; his wife, so she claimed, didn't have any. Words were on the wall and they weren't encouraging. In some ways, his friendship with Kyra had much to do with it, not because he saw any chance of them becoming more than friends. That never entered his mind. But his friendship with Kyra made him realize he wasn't friends with his own wife. The fact of the matter was that he just didn't even like his wife.

Meanwhile, Kyra's relationship with Daz seemed all good on the surface, but Kyra sometimes craved a man. Their agreement sounded great at the outset, but the actual practice of it was a different matter.

A Thursday deadline and late nights all week. Brent and Kyra were working late Wednesday evening. As luck would have it, an email went out around seven o'clock. Groans and cursing could be heard throughout cubeville. One team had found a technical problem and there wasn't a prayer it could be fixed in time. The deadline moved out; all that overtime for nothing. Kyra rushed over to Brent's cube and asked if she could get a ride home. Daz was visiting relatives and wouldn't be back until late. Kyra felt stranded and didn't feel comfortable calling a ride service.

"Sure, no problem."

Kyra noticed that Brent wasn't his normal self; he seemed depressed. When they got into his car, he looked so sad. "Hey Brent, you okay?"

"Um, yeah."

"Not convincing."

Brent managed to smile a little and said, "Oh, just life and love." He regretted saying anything.

"Oh, things okay at home?"

"No, things aren't okay at home."

Kyra rubbed his shoulder, saying, "I'm sorry. Want to talk about it?" When she realized she was touching him, she stopped, wondering about it. She liked him, yes, but this was something else. What the hell? Part of her wanted to take care of him, hold him, and hug him. The rest of her wanted to shut it all down. He's so much older, married, and they work together! Seriously, WTF?

Brent felt her touch and he too realized something. He needed it. But still, Kyra was a lesbian after all, so what is this about? Cute, attractive, and smart for sure, but seriously?

He looked at her and smiled. "Well, the thing is, we should have never been married. You need to be friends first before you can really love someone. You have to trust. We just don't have either. There, I said it."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Kyra said. "It's sad, Brent. You're a great guy and any woman would be lucky to have you."

"You mean that?"

"Yeah, I do," she said. The way she said "any" made Brent wonder. He looked into Kyra's eyes and she looked back. For Kyra, this was a man she wanted to be with. This was a man that could fill a void in her life. And he was right under her nose the whole time.

She kept rubbing his shoulder now and didn't avert her eyes. Brent felt her touch and saw her suddenly in a whole new light, but still couldn't believe it. She was so young! If that wasn't enough, she played for the other team!

Didn't she?

Kyra realized that Brent was probably flipping out about the lesbian thing. She knew him well enough to know that he would never initiate. How could he ever open himself to the possibility unless she made the first move? "Aw, hell, Brent," she said as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Smoke began pouring out of Brent's ears when he realized a lesbian had just kissed him. Does that mean I'm a lesbian too? Lordy I sure hope so! It may have been on the cheek, but it was no mere peck.

The cats were scrambling out of their bags as both looked deeply into their feelings.

When she pulled away, Brent looked in Kyra's eyes and before he knew it, he reached up and held the hand that was on his shoulder. Kyra looked him in the eyes and then down at his mouth. Before either knew anything else, they were kissing and holding each other. They strained to be closer to each other, but the seat belts and the center console made things difficult.

Kyra unbuckled her seat belt first, knowing that Brent was shy about all this. She would have to lead. In a few seconds, Brent had unbuckled himself too as Kyra was leaning over, kissing him and holding him. She was the one to give her tongue to him first and he followed with a soft moan.

Kyra's breathing rose and she eagerly went after Brent's neck. Her breath reached Brent's ear as she nibbled on it. In another second, his breathing rose and he pulled her to where he could kiss her earlobe.

"Ahhhh, ooohoooh." Kyra's longing for a man was set free and she was breathing hard now. She felt her nipples rise and harden and felt the first hint of wetness down below. She gripped Brent's face and kissed him hard. They were grooving to each other, then suddenly, Kyra lost her balance, fell, and yelped when the horn sounded.

They laughed and ducked down in the car until they were sure no one was watching, Kyra opened the car door. "Come on," she said with a broad smile and climbed into the back seat. "Come back here, Brent."

Brent shut the engine off and stepped out of the car. He looked around to see if anyone was nearby. The lot was mostly empty and dark. He got into the back seat and Kyra was in his arms a second later. They were both breathless now and Brent held her tight, still reluctant to lead.

He didn't need to. Kyra pulled off her coat and came toward him, kissed him, and pulled on his coat sleeves. Brent started to remove it while Kyra french kissed him. With Brent's arms stuck in his coat sleeves, Kyra laughed and took advantage and bit into his lip, his neck, and his earlobes. Powerless, Brent moaned helplessly. Kyra pulled away laughing at Brent's predicament and tossed her glasses into the front seat. Finally free, Brent grabbed her arms as she faced away and pulled Kyra toward him and immediately went for her neck. She struggled to free herself, but loved having Brent's tongue in her ear.

Brent finally let her go and she immediately turned and gave him a sweet, gentle, loving kiss. All doubt about Kyra's feelings left Brent's mind. "But," he began, "I thought you..."

"Played for the other team? I play for both teams."

"Oh. Good to know."

She laughed and went for his lips again with a sultry, "Ooooh!"

They started kissing hard and moaning. Brent went for her neck again and nibbled. "Oh, ooooh, oh, I love that!" He came up and nibbled on her earlobe as he firmly grabbed her ass. She moaned and returned the favor to his ear and neck and soon he was moaning too, shivers running down his spine and right to his groin.

Kyra felt uncomfortable with her panties getting wet. Meanwhile, Brent shifted his position, trying to find a comfortable way to sit so that his erection would stop hurting. By now, Kyra had his shirt off and began kissing and nibbling his nipples. It hurt a little, but drove him crazy too. He reached down to pull her shirt off and she eagerly helped him, taking her bra off at the same time.

Kyra sat back and began massaging her small but beautiful breasts. Brent tried to stay focused on her eyes but there was no point. He looked her up and down and smiled. Kyra noticed him looking and loved it. She redoubled her efforts to lead, rushing toward him and desperately went to work on his belt.

"Oooooh, Kyra, is this for real? Are you going to make love to me?"

Kyra moaned, "Yeah, yeah I..." her mouth and tongue merged with his as she pressed her smallish, perky titties into his chest. Pulling back, she asked, "Are you going to make love to me, Brent?"

"Mmmm, hmmm, but..."

She stopped, looking at him with confusion in her eyes. Finally she realized what was wrong and smiled.

"Oh, you don't know how to make love to a switch hitter?"

"You'd better show me," he said, grinning.

Kyra lauged. Her eyes grew heavy and she kissed him hard and whispered in his ear, "I want you." When she had Brent's pants down she leaned back and started on her own. Brent grabbed her pant legs to help. Just that simple thing caused Kyra to reach down into her panties. "Oooooh, oh, oh." With one smooth movement, she had them off and came over toward Brent and reached into his undies and grabbed his cock. As she pulled it free, she said, "Oooh, that looks so much better than any of my toys!" Kyra began stroking Brent's hard dick with a single finger while Brent reciprocated by sliding his little finger into Kyra's wet slit. "Oooooh, oooooh, Oh, Brent," she gasped, never realizing how a little finger could fulfill and tease at the same time.

Kyra shuddered and turned around with her back to Brent and drew his left hand to her breasts and his right to her sopping wet pussy. While he fondled her breasts and gently pinched her little nipples, she firmly grabbed two fingers of his right hand and used them as a toy to finger her cunt and playfully flick her exposed clit. "Ohhh!, Oh, Oh, OOooooohhh" she moaned. She reached down with her left hand and began stroking his hot cock, working it up and down, lighly stroking between two fingers, then using her entire hand.

Brent went blind; this was all so damn hot! Kyra's pussy was so wet and so warm and he loved feeling her hands manipulating his like toys. He reached across to fondle both breasts equally, pinching or flicking her taut nipples, and sometimes running his fingers lightly across her ribs. Then he had an idea to raise the temperature. Letting go of her breast, he plunged a couple of fingers into her mouth and she responded instantly by sucking them and licking them until they were slick. Then he brought them down to her nipples.

Brent then removed his right hand fingers from Kyra's labia and plunged it into his mouth. Sucking and soaking, he brought them to Kyra's mouth. After sucking their combined juices off Brent's fingers, Kyra thrust Brent's two longest, thickest fingers deep into her canal and began shoving them in and out, over and over. Kyra, the bisexual young woman having the first man in nearly two years was now crying, "Oooooh, ooooh, oh, oh, Awww, haaaah, ooooh, Oh!" Simultaneously, her grip on Brent's swollen cock tightened and loosened, knowing the variation in technique was bringing out similar moans from him. The more they touched the more they moaned and the higher they got.

Brent knew she was close now, and he whispered in her ear, "Kyra, let go. Let it flow. Give it to me!" She could take no more. Kyra was silent for a second as her back arched high and her feet pushed against the front seats. A loud groan exploded from her lips, her ecstacy overwhelming, "Aaahhh, aaahhh! Oh, oooooh, ooooh, ooooh, Oh! Oh!" Her body writhed as his fingers slid over her clit and into and out of her soaking cunt. Over and over she writhed and squirmed and shuddered and cried as Brent's fingers, drenched with pussy juice, probed her sex.

Finally she settled into softer moans and she removed his fingers. Taking the initiative, Brent brought those sopping fingers up and plunged them into his mouth and then hers. All this time, she had neglected Brent's cock and she turned around and kissed him on his lips, her tongue probing deeply. Breathlessly she went to his neck and shoved her tongue right into his ear. "Ooooh, Kyra, I love that." Upon hearing that, she forcefully tongued both ears and more of his neck, then moved down to his chest and began nibbling on his nipples.

Brent moaned more, and that just make Kyra hotter. Face to face with Brent, Kyra stroked his hard cock now and asked him, "Are you going to pump your cream, Brent?" He only groaned a response. To his surprise and delight, Kyra brought her head down towards his cock but never touched. Her lips were so close to the tip of his erect schlong that it drove him mad with desire. While stroking his entire length, she gently blew on it and kept asking him, "Are you getting close? Is your cum starting to boil? Are you going to squirt out your cummy gift? Brent rose higher and higher. "Ooooooh, Kyra. Oh, baby, Oh Kyra. Oh that's so hot. Oh!"

Kyra knew she had him. She did everything faster and kept her lips just a hair's width away from the soft tip of his dick. Hearing him cry out only made her more determined to make his hot cum gush out of his cock. When she felt he could get no higher, she said, "Cum for me, Brent. I want your hot cream. Give your cream to me," and sucked hard on the tip of his dick.

Brent was helpless and screamed, "Aaaaaahha! Ooooooh, ooooh, shit! Oh, oh." His cum ejected from his cock, splashing Kyra's face as she pulled away just in time. He squirted twice more. "Oh, oh, oh, oh!" he moaned with each convulsion.

Finally consciousness returned and when it did, Kyra was there, kissing him on the mouth and holding him in her arms. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. They cuddled like this until the cold forced them into their clothes.

As Brent drove out of the parking lot, Kyra took his hand and gently caressed it and kissed his fingers and bit into his knuckles. He got the idea that maybe, just maybe, the evening wasn't over.

It wasn't.

"Do you have to go home? It's only eight, and uh, Daz won't be back until about eleven at the earliest."

Brent looked in Kyra's eyes, loving the question, loving the smile on her face, loving it all. "Well, if you insist."