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I close the door and stand outside waiting for her to finish. When I hear no sound behind the door I tap gently."Nicole? She's sitting cross-legged on the floor facing the toilet. Not the truck driving, spikey hair, flannel shirt wearing kind. But I've only really given the subject consideration after a terrible breakup when women seemed like my only viable option for a happy relationship.
Her sinewy limbs are flung across the seat, her head resting on her right forearm. She raises her head and for the first time looks at me, really looks at me. A tired, embarrassed grin that she simultaneously manages to make look sweet and sexy."I need to brush my teeth," she says breathily. Now, at two in the morning, alcohol racing through my bloodstream, weed making wicked work of rational thought, the abstract concept of lesbianism was staring me in the face. As she squeezes toothpaste onto her toothbrush, I caught Nicole sizing me up, perhaps wondering about my motives and sexual inclinations.
And it had the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. The others are engrossed in a heated debate on which is the better breakfast cereal: Trix or Cocoa Puffs? She is indeed a sexy lesbian."Here, let me help you to the bathroom."I place my hand on the back of her tank top.
I engaged in the obligatory drunk girl on girl make-out sessions in college and actually enjoyed both incidents enough to briefly wonder if I was bisexual. It's a filmy, girly undershirt with a tiny, pink rosebud in the center of her slight cleavage. As I help her stand, moonbeams trickle across her body like water bathing her back in gentle, white light.
I moan as if disturbed in the depths of dreamland and keep my eyes squeezed shut."Good night, Tim, honey," Nicole says ushering Tim out of the bedroom and twisting the lock in the door. As her mouth snacks on my neck her hair tickles my cheek like a feather duster. She is on top of me two hours later when a line from Ani Di Franco's song "Shameless" whips through my mind: "I've got to rub up against it 'til I break the skin.""Jesus! "Half of me is jealous of your amazing body and the other half wants to ravage you." She tosses her head back and laughs, her emerald eyes sparkling in the morning sunlight. And so I do what all guys I know do after engaging in a night of meaningless sex with a woman they just met.
We lay in silence, the traffic below a soundtrack to my erratic and somewhat erotic thoughts. It takes every ounce of self-control not to kick him squarely in the choppers and bolt from the room.
By the time the joint makes its fourth lap around the room heads have turned into helium balloons, gigantic, floating parade novelties attached to string necks.