The strangest sex I have ever had was with two lesbian friends...
"John?"
I knew from the phone number identification that it was a friend from high school.
"Shelly?"
I hadn't heard from her in several years, not since our tenth high school reunion.
"John! I'm so glad I've reached you!"
I was a math nerd in high school, a member of the "intellectual clique." Shelly was, too. And I was a late-bloomer to sex. It wasn't as if I hadn't gotten offers. I had just turned them all down, uncertain of myself. Shelly was one of several girls I wish I had gotten to know better.
"Hey, Shelly. How are you? How is Susan?"
At our ten-year reunion, I found out that most of the girls I had wanted to sleep with were now lesbians, including Shelly! I met Shelly's lover, Susan, at the reunion.
"Susan's good... she's good..."
Shelly's voice drifted off, as if there was more, but before I could ask, she asked, "We're hoping to visit Boston next month. Will you be around?"
There was a sparkle in Shelly's voice, at least that's how I experienced it. I let her voice crawl in my ear, as if whispered, the way I had fantasized so many times. Like the music of the sirens, her voice drifted inside me, went through my heart, and vibrated all the way down to my crotch.
"We'd love to see you..." she added.
By the time she finished, my arousal was complete.
"Sure," I gulped.
I was glad she couldn't see me, or read my mind.
"When?"
"How about the weekend of October 15th?" Shelly asked.
I took a deep breath. "Settle down," I told myself, "I'm reading WAY too much into this." I had made THAT mistake many times, thinking I knew what a woman wanted. I took another breath, then remembered how Shelly and Susan had been at the reunion, touching each other, smiling at each other. They were really in love. And though there was a lot of kidding by others at the reunion, they stood fast in their commitment to each other. When a former jock came over and tried to convince them that they didn't know what they were missing, Susan stood between him and Shelly. "Men are pigs!" Susan had said. When the man turned with a snort and left, I said to Shelly, "Not ALL men." "No, not you," Shelly had reassured me. But Susan had had enough, and they left the reunion shortly after, heading back to Seattle. I hadn't seen nor heard from them. Not until now.
"I'm available that weekend," I said, then winced as I was afraid I might have sounded like a jerk.
"Great!" she said. "I'll e-mail you the details. We're really looking forward to seeing you!"
Long after I hung up, her voice continued to crackle inside my body.
On the weekend of the 15th, I picked up Shelly and Susan Friday afternoon at Logan, then gave them a thrilling drive out to my place.
"We're not used to Boston driving," Susan said. "There aren't any lines! How do you know where to go?" Shelly asked. "Driving without boundaries... I'm used to it," I said.
The ladies were quiet as I weaved my car carefully around the rush-hour traffic.
"So, what do you want to do tonight?" I asked.
When I looked over, Shelly's cheeks were red.
"Is it too warm? I can turn down the heat..." "No, it's all right," she said.
We sat in silence for the rest of the drive to my house. When we pulled into my driveway, it was early evening and already getting dark.
"Here we are! Chez John!"
We decided to eat, an early dinner for me, a kind of late lunch for the ladies from the west coast. We had clam chowder, peanut butter sandwiches, and white wine. We didn't eat much, but managed to finish the wine. We moved to the living room and I opened another bottle, a late harvest, sweeter wine from upstate New York. Soon, we were quite relaxed, sinking into the thick cushions of my over-stuffed bachelor sofa set.
"So what brings you all the way out here?" I asked, speaking carefully, trying to keep a harness on the freedom the wine was offering me.
Shelly looked over at Susan. I wasn't sure if she was red from the wine, or from what she wasn't saying.
"No need to be embarrassed," Susan admonished, looking very serious.
Susan was definitely the one that wore the pants in their relationship. She looked over at me, gave me the once-over, and said, "Shelly tells me you're pretty smart? And you're doing pretty well: college graduate, good job..."
I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was being judged. I tried to sit up, but just ended up squirming, trapped in my own sofa cushions.
"You're not married, but you've done well. You seem nice enough... Is there any reason you haven't gotten married?"
I felt like a piece of meat. I looked over at Shelly for some help.
"What, exactly, are you getting at?" I asked, a bit harder than I really wanted. "What's this about?"
Shelly just looked back, opened her mouth, but didn't say anything, then looked down at the floor.
"There's no easy way to say this...," Susan said. "Shelly and I would like to have a baby."