Unashamed (17 page)

The next morning I explained the events of my evening to Douglas. He was seriously upset that I did not call him, but the bulky phone wouldn’t have been practical in my tight pants on her motorcycle. I explained this to him as he stood over the dining table to pack his book bag in preparation for his afternoon classes. “Jesus, how do you meet these fucking women? I told you, date up, never down. The next one should always be better than the last.” He pulled a notebook out from the bag and began picking off tiny loose paper edges from the metal binding. His face was scowling.

“Why are you getting mad at me? It isn’t my fault she’s a twat and left me. And you date some dingy bitches too.” I was trying to deflect.

He stopped picking at the paper to stare intensely at me. “Because she left my
wife
in a bar alone! Don’t talk to her again,” he ordered before he began to tweeze at the torn edges for a second time. “Ditzy college girls are different from drug trash, and you know it.” He made his point.

“You’re right.” He was always right. I yawned and crossed my arms over my chest as I shook my head and mumbled, “And…she took the fucking pizza.” I waited for him to see the tragic comedy in it before we cackled together.

His high-pitched laugh drowned mine out as he pointed at me to mock me with grand gesture. “A bitch got left!” When his laughing fit finally subsided, we shared a few leftover giggles before he scooped the pile of discarded paper into his hand and kissed my forehead. “I love you.” We hugged and that was that.

So how do you find decent lesbians in Las Vegas, without a drug problem, who won’t leave you at a bar, who will date a married woman? I turned to the chat rooms, where there were quite a few gems.

Joy was one of them. She had recently moved to Las Vegas and didn’t know too many people, hence the online networking. One night while chatting, we cut the conversation short to get ready for the National Coming Out Day Festival. We skipped the parade they had earlier in the day, but the evening events were sure to be a blast! This is how the conversation was typed:

NelliBean: so you would rather stay on the computer than meet me there?
CaddiesRCrazy: are you going?
NelliBean: yes. listen, get your ass off of the computer and meet me in person. *wink* ill be the one dancing on the pole
CaddiesRCrazy: i have to shower and get ready
NelliBean: well I am leaving in like 20 minutes to get a parking spot. I hope to see you there!
CaddiesRCrazy: bye sexy
NelliBean: not goodbye… see you in a few

I logged off, freshened up, and gave Doug a kiss goodbye. Then I drove to my favorite club where the street was closed off for the festivities.

The Gay Lesbian Bisexual Transgender (GLBT) community was out in full force, complete with sparkling outfits and rainbows galore. It felt like home. Even the smell of it was welcoming.

At the club, three dances into my night, I finally stood at the bar for my first drink. Just as the tequila finished burning my throat, my favorite songs began to play. As I walked back to the packed dance floor, a hand reached out from the crowd and grabbed my arm. There was Joy standing in all of her big girl glory with a smile from ear to ear.

She said, “You look much better in person.” Her tiny labret piercing sparkled when she spoke. Squealing with delight, I immediately gave her a hug and dragged her to the dance floor. She absolutely lied when she said she could not dance. She may have been five-foot-four and 240 pounds, but she had moves and confidence. I was totally impressed with the whole package, not to mention her killer chops.

After walking outside to catch some fresh air, we stood near a booth with some other beer friends. It was a beautiful night, warm and bug-less as we joked and flirted. “Are you staring at my lips?” she asked after noticing that my focus was not on her eyes.

The vendors yelled into to the crowd to play their games as the club music poured out of the entrance of the club. “Yes, I always do that. I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” I smiled and tried to look into her eyes.

“You want to kiss me, don’t you? You are staring again.” Her laugh came from within as it passed over the labret piercing below her bottom lip. It was warm, honest, and hearty as she bounced with each chuckle and the piercing sparkled in the vendor lights. I never thought twice about accepting her request for a date a few days later.

Our first date was a different kind of debacle. Remember the phone call Tracy answered during sex? Well somehow
that
girl had become an acquaintance of Joy’s and mine through the chat room. We talked to Tess mostly online because we really didn’t like her, and we certainly enjoyed talking about her behind her back. But we were not heartless, so we picked her up after a frantic call asking for a ride to the bus station about half an hour into our date. She wanted to go back to Tennessee and didn’t know anyone else who could take her. When we arrived, she told us we had to wait until her roommate got back from work so she could unlock the back room. That’s where her bags were. We never complained or said anything about the disruption of our date. We just rolled with it.

Tess and I eventually stepped outside to sit on the curb for a cigarette. As we bonded a little over the subject of sexuality, Joy sat in the apartment to wait for the roommate, whom she apparently knew. This was becoming the lesbian triangle bullshit I managed to outrun thus far. Tess had a very thick southern accent. I don’t think it originated from Tennessee where she claimed she was from, but it was most definitely a deep southern influence from somewhere.

The night was still and the perfect temperature for a long conversation on a curb. “I was married too, girl, and I had to let him go because I am gay. It’s hard to come out, but, honey, you are a lez-bee-yin. Own it, honey.”

“I love my husband. I am never going to leave him. You don’t understand the relationship we have, but I’m not leaving the women, either. I’m good.” I grabbed my legs to pull my knees up and match the back of my heel to the surface of the curb. It gave me a place to rest my chin.

“Oh, honey, you are in the closet. You are gayyyy. You are so far in the closet you are like, back with the sweaters. Way fuckin’ back.” She looked away and fidgeted with her earring before snapping her head back to me. “You are soooo gayyyy.” She was frustrated, but I laughed.

Joy came out in the middle of my hysteria to tell Tess that her roommate was home. Tess walked back into the apartment to grab her things, leaving Joy and me to sit on the curb.

“So much for our date.” She giggled and tongued at the piercing on the inside of her lip.

“It’s cool. I’ve had worse.” I smiled. If only she knew.

“I want to kiss you right now, but I won’t. We are out here alone, finally. The timing is too obviously perfect.” She was absolutely right; we were finally alone. The night air was a comfortable temperature. There were no bugs flying around, no ants crawling on the pavement or critters anywhere.

“You are right. Wait for the perfect moment, not the perfect time.” She was on the same page, so we high-fived each other instead.

Then she played with her piercing as she said, “Since the night has been crashed, I figure we can kind of make it a girls’ night out and bring Tess to the club since it’s her last night in Vegas. I invited Nina to tag along. Is that okay?”

“Sure, we can go to my place for some pre-drinks. Doug is there. I want you to meet him.”

On my first date with Joy, we spent an hour in my apartment with Tess, Nina, and my husband. Doug took photos of us and laughed at Joy’s jokes. They were really getting along very well. When we finally left for the club, Joy commented on how awesome she thought Doug was. This was going to be a good relationship.

At the club, Tess and I began setting up the pool table while Joy and Nina went to get drinks. We started talking about the chat room where we all met and how Tess came to Vegas for a girl. She explained that she was leaving because the relationship she thought was going to happen was a joke. “It was a mistake, honey, that’s why I am leaving. So why are ya’ll hanging out tonight?” She pointed to Joy, who was, by then, walking two drinks to a nearby table with Nina right behind her.

I took the first shot, breaking nothing but my finger as it went crooked and into the air. “Well, we are kind of on our first date tonight,” I said as I set myself up to attempt it a second time.

“Who? Ya’ll? Oh, and I’m ruining it!” Tess shouted as she walked over to Nina, who handed her a drink. Joy’s eyes bulged from her head as she realized what was said and froze in her tracks. Nina asked who was on a date as she looked to Tess and me and sipped the first refreshing sip of her beer. I answered humbly, “Me and Joy. It was supposed to be our first date tonight.” Then I looked to Joy, whose eyes had impossibly widened further, frozen stiff with a drink in each hand. She had been caught doing something wrong, but I swear, as I stared at her, unaware of the trouble she was in, a smile crept in the corner of her mouth. Nina slammed her beer on the table, causing the head to spill over, slapped Joy’s arm, and stomped out of the club. Joy excused herself and rushed out after her.

Tess and I were clueless as to what had just happened, so we continued our game of pool without them. When Joy finally returned, she told us that Nina drove home. When Tess and I asked about the dramatics, she nervously adjusted her backward baseball cap as she explained it. “Well, we are kind of dating.”

“That’s your girlfriend?” I set the pool stick on the felt, more interested in hearing the whole story than angry.

“No, we just slept together once or twice and, you know, it’s not serious. We were just kind of seeing each other, but I told her I didn’t want to anymore. It’s all good.”

Tess took sips from her drink between each juicy piece of information and smacked her lips. “No, you did not. That is scandalous, honey.” Then she turned to me to say, “God bless your heart.”

I smiled because it didn’t matter to me. She had consistently caused flutters in my stomach, which was something I was not willing to ignore. “Can we resume our date now, please? I need another drink.” I half begged but totally deserved it and she knew it.

Joy chuckled and walked with me to the bar where we stood in line and shared our first kiss. It was so fantastic I pretty much had an out-of-body experience. It was soft and smooth and perfect. The room around us darkened. I watched myself kiss her as I levitated to the ceiling.

On our second date, Joy took me to watch the planes take off at the airport. At night the runway lights shimmered as much as the famous lights of the strip on the other side of the chain link fence. It was beautifully fascinating.

As each aircraft passed, the thunderous engines sent vibrations through her sports utility vehicle. She had music playing low enough to talk over. We shared a wonderful time chatting, laughing, and eventually making out.

About fifteen minutes into heavy breathing and the deep desire to go further, her cheeks flushed with arousal as she pulled away from our kisses with my hand still under her shirt. “Do you want to take this back to my place?” she politely asked. I said yes, to which she added, “Good, because my fat roll is getting cold.” Then she pulled her shirt back down over her stomach and roared with laughter. My efforts to click the seatbelt together were hindered by the hysteria that ensued. She was so confident about her size. I loved that about her and I was more than happy to share her bed if that’s where she wanted me.

During the few sexual experiences I shared with Monica and Lindsey, who were both my size, they never took off their clothing. In fact, both of them were completely dressed every time, down to the socks. If they hadn’t been ashamed of themselves, they could have pulled off the hot and mysterious fully clothed look.

Maybe that is the root of my infatuation with the full-figured woman. They typically go with the sexual flow and ask fucking questions later. Maybe they get embarrassed about a little cellulite
after
they have an orgasm. Rayya once said, “You
know
there is a big bitch under this XXL shirt. It’s not like I’m trying to hide that shit. Don’t freak when you see stretch marks…because I’m getting mine. That’s right!” She was my hero.

Doug asked me why the girls I dated seemed to get bigger and bigger after meeting Joy. I politely reminded him that he liked his ditzy, big-titty hos and I liked my big butch bois, who, by the way, were not on drugs leaving me at karaoke bars. Touché, he said and left it alone.

When Joy and I got to the point where sex was a given, her clothes came off just as fast as mine. She was playing fantastic R&B music on her stereo and even stopped every now and then to sing a lyric to me. She was comfortable, which made me comfortable…which made me very, very happy.

“Oh my God, what are you doing? It feels so good,” I moaned.

She came up for air while her fingers continued to move inside of me. “I can eat a peach for hours.” She shot a devilishly sexy smile and slowly disappeared between my thighs again.

This big bitch owned my pussy. Whatever voodoo trickery bullshit she was doing was absolutely working. Sweat was all over the sheets that were balled under my back. I grabbed the edges of her mattress and pulled so hard it curled. I felt an explosion beginning to happen, and, just when it became unbearable, I demanded she stop.

“Please stop. I am going to scream,” I pleaded.

“That’s what I want, ” she said and moved her fingers again.

I flinched. “No! I am serious. I mean I am going to scream at the top of my lungs, you don’t understand.” Normally this wouldn’t have been an issue, but her mother was trying to sleep in the next room, which really makes any sexual experience a little uncomfortable.