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Lesbianism and Intimacy.

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Lesbianism and Intimacy.

“My parents made a mistake when they sent me to a Girl's Secondary College, thinking that an all-female school would ensure that I, a ‘sex crazy’ girl, would settle down”.

 When I was at the end of First Semester; Year 8 at Junior High, Mom was devastated over the teacher's Report, having written that I was “categorical boy crazy”, and would “never come to any good”.

The Headmaster shared his disappointment with the teachers. Stating that I was a ‘smart girl’; who had wasted my year, playing football in a very shortened school dress, with the Senior boys’  and that I was often seen going to the park with boys after school. Mom took me by the hand and dragged me out of the hallway that day, sharing the rest of the Teachers’ Report details with me. 

“What was I doing in the toilets with boys at lunchtime”? Moreover, why was I seen dating a boy from the Secondary school nearby; kissing him at the DQ; the ice cream parlour? I was grounded and made to stay home to study. Mother decided to attempt to enrol me into a school that only took girls with an SSAT60% and above average.

Life at all Girls Junior High found me equally unsuccessful at weaning myself off boys. I thought about sex all the time. Whenever I found myself in trouble, there I  was; just standing there. Gazing the teacher in the eye, as this or that female teacher screamed at me for one thing or another. However, all the time practizing doing pelvic squeezes, and dreaming of the next guy I could, you know, ‘make out’ with.

While walking across the school sports ground one day; during lunch hour; looking to see if I might find a good hiding place where I could; go one day; perhaps light up a cigarette. The grassy areas were large and hugged a beautiful lake surrounded by beautiful full grown silver birches and oak trees. As I rounded a massive trunk of an old tree that faced the view of the lake, I heard a giggle and a rustle in the grass. I had come across two of my teachers, both of them female lying in each other's arms in the long grass and kissing as passionately as I had ever seen in any romantic movie I had ever seen at the Cinema.

I was shocked and kind of excited! I hid behind the trunk, worried that I would be seen. I watched them for about half an hour. Miss Starkey, my Biology teacher, was always so beautiful. All the girls said so. She was about six foot tall and had long Raven red hair; down to her waist that she flipped when she became passionate about something like the tiny spores of mushrooms or the fertilization of a flower by the stamen. We were all fond of her, and she was always a bit on the hippie side. Miss Morgan, our English teacher, was with her. Nicknamed ‘Morgy’, part Sri Lankan part English, on the other hand, was shortish. Beautiful complexion, wavy jet black shoulder length hair. Also very passionate about plays, literature. Oh my gosh! The poems she would read us. About love and lust, scrambled into my jumbled brain all at once, as I watched then roll together so passionately and with such joy. I watched Morgy use her fingers to comb through Starkey's long hair. Watched as she seemed to whisper something into her ear. Morgy rolled on top of her and kissed her full on the mouth, angling her head around to feel the full impact. Her lips opened, I watched as Starkey’s hands flew all over the front of Morgy’s blouse; cupping her big breasts and tenderly stretching her head up to kiss each breast through her thin blouse. I watched fascinated.

 

Morgy slowly bent her right knee upward. As I watched enthralled, her knee slid right up and in between Starkey’s groins. Slowly, Morgy began to grind her knee around and around, deeper into that cavern through her short pleated skirt. I heard gasping, not sure from whom. Then the bell rang. I crouched back into my position and watched as they stood; adjusted each other's clothing and laughingly ran back together towards the school building.

That was it for me. I was absolutely stumped. Curious, I wanted to know all that I could about ‘Lesbian Love’. I went to the Library and started searching for books that may have had this kind of love in the stories, or women in history that were Lesbians. One day, when I had a brief read of a book by Simone De Beauvoir. To this day, I’m able to recall that book title, ‘The Second Sex’ (1949). This book told of blind love between all kinds of other sex. De Beauvoir wrote that the power of women to live life; how they wanted was natural in her day. I thought she was an artist living amongst bohemians; a voice behind me asked if I liked this author? When I turned around, I came across a girl with tight curly black hair, cut into a short African-American style. She was skinny with glasses yet beautiful. I said I had yet to try it. She said, “give it a try,  you might love it; and never look back, again.  Perhaps you may never be the same again!”. I asked her what meant. She said her name was Melissa and that I might be interested in seeing a new French movie that was on in town; about College girls just like us. It was all implied. Just like us... What did that mean? I decided to go to see it all the same. I was, by now curious It was called ‘Therese and Isabelle’.

My oh my! Was there would be any way that I would be able to describe my pubescent sexual arousal? My curiosity as I sat alone in that cinema? The next day, I watched as two beautiful; French school girls; spent their days seeking each other out. Catching furtive glances at each other. Despite strict Catholic, regulations, to ‘smell’ moments when they snatch time alone together to just have one more kiss, one more touch, one more night spent together in the dormitory or behind the church steeple. Whenever they could steal away. This was the ultimate sexual arousal I had experienced since my childhood dalliances.

I saw the movie several times and had to keep it all secret until one day I saw Melissa again in the Library.

" Did you know that Sparky and Morgy were...."

 I interrupted her and said,

" I know, I saw them”!

" No, actually"? And grabbing my arm, she asked me

" Tell me all about it."!

 

Thus began the very beginning of a grand; double somersault dive into the waters of some of the most lustfully wonderful female to female experiences of my life."

" It certainly helped me get through the dark years of High school.”  I would love to share those experiences with you if you would like to hear more.

Susan McG. (Surname requested withheld for Privacy reasons.)

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I stumbled across your website while searching on Google for more information and help. My husband and I are having problems talking to one another. The articles that you have on your website on, what I believe, is trying to understand how I (and my partner) never realized are the many different ways we talk to each other, as well as to friends and work colleagues. What you call 'Communication", I have taken for granted. How a rapport develops, I suddenly found was the problem my partner and I lacked in our relationship.
However, the memories of my girlhood rekindled when I read that article on 'Lesbianism and Intimacy'! I was just 11 years old. My girlfriend stayed the weekend at my parental home; we slept in the same bed. And yes, we touched each other's private parts. I didn't know the name of what when Roslyn fingered me, felt like a hard pea, and made my body arch up. I recall that we kissed so hard, and I also remember the guilt of doing something I instinctively thought was wrong. My mother did not provide me with any sex education.
Over the years since, I have found that having 'that' intimacy with another woman so different to having sexual experiences with men, I lack the right words. Now in my early fifties, I would like to read more from Susan. How similar or different have each of our experiences been?

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