The Homework Affair

The Homework Affair The Homework Affair

Status: Finished

Genre: Gay and Lesbian

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Gay and Lesbian

Summary

The sad story of first love between two girls.

Summary

The sad story of first love between two girls.

Content

Submitted: December 26, 2012

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Content

Submitted: December 26, 2012

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I was still at school, with about a year to go until my final exams. I say ‘final exams’ but the way I had made every wrong decision going up until that point, I was heading for ‘no exams’: I was regularly getting drunk, out of my head on pot, just not appearing in school for days or weeks on end, and I had already had a couple of pregnancy scares. I was the sort of girl mothers warn their sons about. However, there was one person holding me, anchoring me, keeping me within the real world. Most of my former friends had given up by then, but she didn’t.

She was Fran. Or ‘Francis’, but to me she would always be ‘Fran’, and she was my best (and only real) friend.

She coaxed me to school more often than not, tried to cover for me when I did skip school, helped me with homework, made sure I was wearing enough school uniform to get into school, held my hand while we waited for blue lines to appear, and generally, was there when I needed her. I took her for granted, of course, while I was absorbed in my own world of stupidity. I now know I owe her so much.

We had found ourselves in my bedroom, working on the floor on some homework together. My mum had given us squash and biscuits to keep us going – I think she knew a positive role model when she saw one and tried to encourage it in her own way. Up until that particular day Fran was just a convenient way of spending less time on homework.

We were working on maths. It is a weak point for me to this day, and I was struggling with some equation or other. Fran kept stepping through the work, to a point that there were no smaller steps to be had. I honestly did try to understand the subject, but something wasn’t working.

It must have been the fourth time she had gone through it. It was hot, and I was losing interest – maybe she was too. She turned to me, propped up on her elbow. It is difficult to describe what followed as anything other than ‘a moment’. She looked at me. I looked at her. We were in close proximity... I know I didn’t plan it, but suddenly we were kissing. I had never kissed a girl before. There were no tongues or anything, it was just a nice kiss. I have not had many like it since.

When we came up for air, we looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, then she said ‘Did that just happen?’ I nodded, then asked ‘Shall we try it again?’

It was her turn to nod. We kissed again, our homework forgotten. The kiss was less innocent this time, our tongues searching for each other. This time when we stopped she said ‘Wow.’ I was conflicted. I didn’t think I was a lesbian – other than perhaps snatched glances in changing rooms, I had not enjoyed the female form particularly. However, I had had sex in this very room with boys exactly 4 times before (and in other bedrooms on a lot more occasions) and each time it was unsatisfying. Suddenly I was with someone that was making me so horny I could barely contain myself. I leant forward for a third kiss, and this time my hand was in her blouse, feeling her warm skin, unfastening her bra, feeling her erect nipples, kissing them.

She told me she loved me then. I didn’t say it back, and I will always feel bad about that. Instead I got to work on her remaining clothes. I could never take the time to savour anything back then and soon I was fingering her. She didn’t complain, and I brought her to orgasm quickly – although I had no idea what I had done right, it had definitely worked. When she came down again, she was flushed looking. She said it had been ‘amazing’, and that she wanted to ‘do me’ now. She stripped me off slowly, but instead of fingering me, she bent her head down to my pussy. I had to try to keep quiet as my mum was still downstairs, but what Fran did with her tongue was amazing. Whenever I had been with a boy before, it had always been a question of waiting for him to come, but this time... well, it was different. I had the full orgasm experience. How mum didn’t hear something going on, I don’t know, but I am thankful she didn’t.

Afterwards, Fran told me that she had loved me since we had first met when we had started secondary school together and were assigned to the same class. I think she thought she had she had lost me for a second – I still wasn’t sure I wanted to be gay, but what had happened was undeniable, even to an idiot like me. I kissed her and said I had lots of homework that I needed her help for.

When mum finally came in later, we were of course properly dressed, the squash gone and biscuits reduced to crumbs. Mum did nothing but encourage us to stay together.

So started the happiest 6 months of my life. My sex life was now fulfilling and exciting. I had ditched the lame group of boys I had allowed to screw me. My schoolwork improved. An English teacher took me under her wing around then, and with hers and Fran’s help, I turned from a no-hoper to someone with a fighting chance of passing a few exams.

I have a photo from back then. It is a photo on real photo paper taken by my mum to use the last picture on the roll. It shows two schoolgirl friends – me and Fran - laughing together at a shared joke. We had been making love 20 minutes earlier, and I can see my blouse is miss-buttoned. That photo is probably the first thing I would save in a fire.

It ended of course, when we were caught ‘at it’ by my mum, and all hell broke loose. Fran was forced by her parents to change schools. I went to live with my dad, and never saw Francis again. It was only 8 years ago, but I wonder if we would have had the same reaction today. From my mother – probably. She is (even now, with her daughter a confirmed lesbian) a dreadful homophobe, racist, xenophobe and probably every other ‘-ophobe’ in between. But would I get that reaction from a ‘normal’ mother? – maybe not. I think there is hope out there for any young men or women out there in a similar position, and I wish them luck. I now consider myself a lesbian, and I have no desire to change that.


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