One on One

One on One

By Sandra Barret - author of romance novel, Lavender Secrets
Copyright 2006

I was drunk. That was indisputable. But Lorinda? I think she was drunk as well. Okay, I know she
was drunk, because she matched me pint for pint at the bar, and she's a good foot shorter than I am.
So when I felt her brush my leg on her way to get the next pint, my libido woke up and watched her
well-curved backside. She pushed her way through four of our teammates to make it to the pitcher of
beer that they were huddled around. Lorinda still wore her basketball uniform, just like the rest of us.
Less than a third of the University of Kentucky's intramural women's basketball team were above the
drinking age, and all of us were crowded into the back corner of Shenanigan's bar.

My conscience said that Lorinda meant nothing by the casual touch. But when she peered at me with
half-closed eyes on her way back? My libido recognized a soul-twin in that look.

My conscience and libido have names – the Virgin Mary and Magdalene. You guessed I'm Catholic,
right? So when Lorinda pulled her stool closer to mine, the Virgin Mary started whispering in my ear.
"She's straight."

Magdalene, my libido, pulled a cigarette out of her mouth (my libido smokes), and said, "You don't
know that. Sleeping with a guy doesn't make you straight." One point free throw for my libido.
Sleeping with my ex-boyfriend sure didn't make me straight. Having an affair with Kelly, the point
guard, who left me two months later? Now, that gave me my lesbian stamp.

Lorinda's dark eyes bore into me, as if waiting for me to make the next move. I shifted so my knee
touched hers. It shocked me, how powerful a simple touch can be. I could have stayed like that
forever, just our bare knees brushing against each other, light against dark.

Lorinda didn't move away. "Lack of movement doesn't make her a lesbian," the Virgin Mary huffed.

"Yeah. Then what about what's she doing with her hand?" Magdalene asked.

I forced myself not to look down. But the touch of Lorinda's hand on my thigh generated a heat that
shot right between my legs. God, how did I ever think I was straight? I forced myself to make small
talk, to not bring attention to her hand. "So, how's B.J?" I asked.

Shit. That was the Virgin Mary bringing up Lorinda's boyfriend. I hate when she takes control like that.
It's not fair.

Lorinda moved her hand away, and a coldness settled into our conversation. "He's coming to visit
next week," she said. I could read the frustration in her eyes that said I'd brought up the wrong topic.
Hell, this was all new to me.

"You set yourself up for these things," the Virgin Mary said. "Going for the impossible is just another
way you keep yourself in the closet." Now that was an interesting observation, since I blamed my
conscience for dragging me down the straight path for years.

Magdalene rolled her eyes. "Logic can't dictate the pheromone dance, V.M." My libido would know,.
She initiated that messed-up three week affair with Kelly. Why can't the two of them ever agree on
someone?

I took a long swig of my beer. Now wasn't the time for this argument. With a little coaching from
Magdalene, I got up the courage to initiate physical contact again.

I flicked a finger under the shoulder opening of Lorinda's oversized jersey. "When are you going to get
a uniform that fits?"

She leaned into me, and my hand slid under her top. Like a deer in headlights, I froze. The back of
my hand rested on the strap of her sports bra.

"You have a problem with my clothes?" she asked.

Magdalene and the Virgin Mary joined in a chorus of "Move your hand!" One said snatch it away and
the other said slide it down her arm first. Lorinda's gaze locked onto mine as I debated which move
to make. Magdalene made the choice for me, and I felt Lorinda's bicep tightened as my hand
caressed her arm and then dropped to the table beside us. A smile curved her full lips.

Our one-on-one flirt fest came to an abrupt stop when Kelly joined us. Do you consider someone
your ex- even though it only lasted less than a month? I wonder if there's a guidebook somewhere I
should be reading – Lesbianism for Dummies. Anyway, Kelly's presence put a damper on things.
"Good game," she said, wrapping an arm over my shoulder.

I avoided looking at Lorinda, afraid my affair with Kelly was written all over my blushing face. I
squirmed away from Kelly. "Yeah, you, too."

Kelly smirked, but didn't push it further. She turned to Lorinda. "Are you going to be there next week for
the East Kentucky match?"

"I'll be there." Lorinda glared at me. What did that mean?

Magdalene chimed in with her two cents. "She's jealous."

The Virgin Mary disagreed, of course. But Kelly wandered off and took half the local tension with her.
Lorinda remained quiet. I fidgeted with my half-empty pint glass, wondering if the loser stamp on my
forehead was shining neon red or blue.

Lorinda's hand brushed across my middle back. "Are you okay?"

"Me, sure." I wanted to say I was sorry about Kelly, but Magdalene slapped an ethereal hand over my
mouth.

"Are you sober enough to drive?" Lorinda asked.

The Virgin Mary said no, Magdalene said yes. I chose neutral. "Maybe, why?"

"Can you give me a ride home? I think I'm too far gone."

Was that an invitation? I agreed to drive before my conscience or my libido could pipe in their two
cents. But that didn't stop them from creating a racket in my head during the short drive to Lorinda's
apartment. She lived in a studio apartment in the back of a larger family home. I envied her privacy. I
have two roommates and a noisy parakeet in my apartment.

I had some measure of control until we got out of the car. The Virgin Mary was leading again,
convincing me that Lorinda was just drunk and it all meant nothing. Then Lorinda wrapped her arm
around my waist, and we staggered down the well-lit path to her apartment. I could have carried her
easier, and Magdalene was screaming for me to go for it, but I didn't. Not even my overactive libido
could give me enough courage to be that bold.

Lorinda unlocked her door. I hesitated. "Say goodbye," said the Virgin Mary. But Lorinda couldn't hear
that, because she took my hand and led me inside. The single room was dark except for the light that
filtered through one window. The double bed took up most of the real estate, leaving a tiny, dark
corner that I assumed had the kitchenette. Or maybe the bathroom? She shut the door behind us. We
stood, toe to toe in the dark. Could she hear my heartbeat thundering in the silence?

"Take her hand," Magdalene urged. But abject fear kept me from moving. If I start something now,
where would it lead? Would we even be friends after?

The Virgin Mary took over and I heard myself ask, "Should we turn on a light?" Magdalene screamed
foul play. "Libido never gets voice control."

"That's because you get too much action control," the Virgin Mary replied. She had a point there, but it
didn't matter. Because Lorinda's finger was on my lip.

"No lights," Lorinda said. Her gaze locked on mine. Without thinking, I kissed the tip of her finger. The
Virgin Mary threw up her hands, and Magdalene danced a jig. But I didn't care. Because Lorinda
opened her palm to me. I kissed each finger and studied her reaction. Her eyes were half shut, and
she leaned into me. I lifted her chin. We stared at each other, barely breathing.

Then I kissed her. My mind and body exploded. This wasn't like kissing a guy. It wasn't even like
kissing Kelly. When Lorinda opened her lips and her tongue danced with mine, I stopped thinking. I
stopped breathing. It wasn't until she pulled back that we both gasped for air.

But that was enough time for the Virgin Mary and Magdalene to start nagging me again."Take it slow."
"Take her now." Too bad duct tape won't stick over the mouths of the people in my head. Because
what I really needed was a decision, my own decision. If I pushed Lorinda too far, I'd lose her. If I
didn't go far enough, I'd piss away my one chance to be with the woman I've wanted for two years
now. She was the reason I originally knew I was gay. Kelly was just the obligatory initiation into the
club or something.

Lorinda looked up at me, waiting for me to make the next move. Middle ground, I thought, as I led her
to the bed. It was the only seat in the room. That was my excuse. I sat down. She sat on my lap. That
was a good sign, right?

It was an even better sign when her hand slipped under my jersey and stroked my back. I followed
her lead, feeling her hot flesh on my palms as I kissed her again. The Virgin Mary was trying to get
some message across about asking Lorinda what this all meant and where it was all leading. But I
wasn't listening.

My hand brushed across Lorinda's sports bra and I felt her hard nipple between my fingers. I
squeezed, and she pressed into me with a moan. I leaned back on the bed. Lorinda positioned
herself on top of me, her legs wrapping around my thigh. We both knew where this was leading and
we both wanted it, whatever the morning brought.

#

I woke up to the sound of running water. My first thoughts were disorienting. The shower sounded too
close, and the scent of fresh coffee was overwhelming. Even the sheets felt different. The Virgin Mary
poked me in the ribs with a "remember where you are and what you did?"

Panic flooded my brain, preventing me from opening my eyes. Was Lorinda still in the bed? I tried to
sense her presence, but that didn't work. Not in a strange room and strange bed. I opened one eye
just enough to see. The sheets and comforter were crumpled next to me. Was she small enough to
be hidden underneath that? Thoughts of her petite body riding a wave of orgasm on top of mine woke
my libido up. Magdalene gave a mental stretch and congratulated me on my night's performance.
The Virgin Mary wasn't as enthusiastic about the festivities. I opened both eyes and looked around to
stop the argument the two were about to have. Do normal people have these mental battles? I
wondered.

The coffee maker announced that it was finished just as the water stopped in the bathroom. My
heartbeat pounded. Magdalene urged me to kick off the covers and pose for Lorinda, while the Virgin
Mary droned on about how I should be dressed and ready to be kicked out. I didn't have a chance to
react to either suggestion before the bathroom door opened.

Lorinda stood in the doorway with one towel wrapped around her. Moister clung to her legs, the
same legs that had wrapped so tightly around me last night. She was patting the water out of her
short, curly hair with a second, smaller towel. I pulled the sheet up to cover me. Lorinda turned to me
and for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, we just stared at each other. What was she
thinking? Had it all been a mistake? I knew getting into it that there were no promises, that she'd
probably stay with her out of town boyfriend. But I don't think I could handle it if she regretted that we'd
made love for half the night.

I couldn't take the silence anymore. "Should I get up?" I asked.

A slow smile curved her lips and she tossed the small towel back into the bathroom. "Not unless
you're in a rush to be someplace else."

"Nope, not me."

She watched me as she peeled off her other towel. I stared at her breasts as she exposed them one
at a time. Small and firm. I licked my lips, remembering the feel of her hardened nipple in my mouth.
The towel moved further, showing the silver loop that pierced her bellybutton, a flash of light on her
dark brown skin. She was beautiful. The towel fell in a clump on the floor. My eyes locked on the tight
black curls of her pubic mound. I wanted to taste her. I hadn't last night. Too much else going on at
the time.

She stepped over the towel. I looked up into her eyes and saw a reflection of my own aroused state.
She didn't regret what was happening and neither did I. She crawled onto the bed like a cat hunting
its prey. I smiled. She always was the aggressor on our team. I sat up and ran a hand along her
shoulder and back.

Warm, sensual lips pressed lightly against mine. There were no voices in my head anymore. Just
the two of us, in the sunlight, stumbling back on the bed.