Nipples. I have this love-hate relationship with my nipples. The love part was the way they got me aroused, especially since I started living with Julia. I never knew I could reach an orgasm from nipple play. Julia is talented at that.
My nipples are overly sensitive, which is a good thing, but after a while and a couple of orgasms, they are off-limits until the sensitivity dies down; that's not necessarily the hate part of my relationship with them. It's their size. They protrude disproportionately to my smallish, perky boobs. I was embarrassed by them, so much so that I always wore a padded bra.
My mother and Katherine would tease me about the padded bra, saying I should be accepting my boob size and not be ashamed of them. Of course, my mom and Katherine had big boobs, so they thought I was just trying to enhance my outward appearance to be more like them. I couldn't tell them it was because of my nipples that I needed the extra thickness.
Julia has perfect nipples. Hers are petite knobs almost hidden in the center of her large brown areolas. She also has large breasts, which I love to bury my face in. Do opposites attract? When it comes to boobs, we are very opposite.
A month after we announced our intent to get married, we bought each other rings to cement our relationship; Julia was teasing me about not going braless.
"If I can go out in public and not be ashamed to have these big tits bouncing around, you can certainly show off your sexy nipples," she chided me.
"I don't think I would like the attention, especially from men gawking at me," I told her.
One evening, we were having dinner at the new restaurant Julia opened in the Billings Towne Center I helped build; Julia approached me cautiously, starting with a reference to my nipples.
"You don't mind running around the house naked with those tasty nipples enticing me," she started saying. "But if a man were staying with us for a while, would you be embarrassed by them?" She asked, trying to get into a serious conversation in a roundabout way.
"And why would there be a man around the house?" I asked curiously.
"My best friend from high school and college, the guy I almost married before I admitted to myself that I was gay," Julia explained softly. "His mother is in assisted living, and she's dying. She is being moved to hospice, and Mark asked me if he could stay with me while he was in town to be with his mother."
I listened empathetically as Julia went on, "He doesn't know about us, but he obviously knows I'm a lesbian. He's flying in from Atlanta in a few days and says he can't afford to stay at the hotel for long. I must ask you first if it would be all right for him to stay with us."
"Sure," I answered quickly. Why would Julia be hesitant to approach me about that?
"I just wanted to make sure you were all right with not running around the house with only your panties on while he was here," she laughed. "The girl he started dating after I came out had nice perky breasts like yours. I liked her. I was even going to propose a threesome so I could nibble on her nipples."
We both laughed at the image. Julia adored mine.
The day before Mark's arrival, Julia and I decided to take advantage of our privacy. It wasn't certain how long Mark would be our guest; that depended on how long his mother would live. I read about hospice care. Patients either go quickly, in a few days or linger on for weeks. However long Mark stays, that is fine with me.
Julia had introduced me to penetration. She had a strap-on with a six-inch dildo. That was how my cherry popped. I could no longer claim to be a virgin, though I never did have a real cock inside me. And I didn't have a desire for it, having been unable to reach a climax from being pounded by a dildo.
"I want you to put on the strap-on and fuck my pussy," Julia insisted that day before Mark's arrival. I obliged. It didn't do much for me, but I figured it was fun for her. Julia bent over the bed, and I approached her from behind the way she had done to me. She was glistening wet with anticipation when I aligned the tip of the rubber cock at her opening.
I tried very hard to maintain a steady rhythm while I thrust my hips, pushing the toy deeper inside her. Julia moaned with pleasure. It wasn't long before I was exhausted.
"That's hard work," I complained. "I don't envy men who do that all the time," I remarked.
"They usually don't last as long as you just did," Julia quipped.
"I wouldn't know," I said out of a lack of experience with men. All of a sudden, my curiosity about men was piqued. "What was it like when you were with Mark?" I asked.
"I loved Mark differently," Julia replied. "We were close friends, and even the sex was fun, but it wasn't romantic love like I feel for you," she told me as she reached toward me for a kiss.
"Did you guys fuck a lot?" I kept pursuing the topic.
"Yes. Mark was a horny young man."
"Did you orgasm when you fucked?" I asked, wondering if it was me or my inclinations as to why I couldn't orgasm when my vagina was penetrated.
"No, not really. It was different. It wasn't like when I orgasm with you, but it was still pleasurable, and the feeling of his hot cock inside me was comforting, if not exciting," she mused.
"Do you still love him?" I wondered out loud.
"Of course, as a friend," Julia responded. "I love you as a lover," she added.
I started thinking about my mother and Katherine. They were lovers. And my father, my mother must have loved him differently, though I have come to the conclusion that he did not deserve her love. I haven't talked since I informed him I moved in with Julia. Katherine called him and angrily yelled at him for shunning me. He won't talk with her either, blaming Katherine for turning me into a lesbian.
I was beginning to realize that my distaste for men had everything to do with my father and his unforgiving beliefs. Julia was giving me a different perspective of a man. I was looking forward to meeting Mark.
Later that night, lying in bed, drained from a day of lovemaking, I whispered a question, not knowing if I wanted to ask it or if I expected an answer. "Julia, would you want to make love with Mark?"
She turned to face me and kissed me gently on the lips. "Only if it is with you," she replied.
Her answer sent my thoughts and emotions swirling.
****************
An hour before we went to the airport to pick Mark up, Julia received a call from the restaurant. Some sort of crisis urgently needed her attention.
I sent a picture of Mark to your phone and a picture of you to his," she told me as she hurried out the door. She also sent me Mark's itinerary. He had to fly for twelve hours from Atlanta to Houston to Denver and then on a small commercial plane to Billings. The poor man will be worn out when I pick him up at the airport.
As the passengers disembarked from the flight he was on, I pulled out my phone and studied his face. He was a handsome man with dark hair and bright blue eyes. He looked better in person as I approached him despite the fatigue that must have set in from a day of travel. He was also looking at his phone and surveying the terminal for me. We made eye contact.
