Lori F. Schy
Bi No Other Coice
It was sometimes between the ages of nine + eleven when I first realized that I wanted to be touched by another girl. On Halloween night in 1976, it became a reality.
I had been friends, as always, with Tara. We had decided to go to Castro Str. together for Halloween, a much celebrated holiday within the gay community. This was to be the event of the year for me, an unleashing of my desires. The night proved to be an extravaganza of flamboyant costumes within a fun loving atmosphere.
We were at a nightclub. The night was approaching the bewitching hour when the bars would make last call at 2 a.m. I struggled to get to the bar in order to get that last cocktail while Tara ventured through the crowd. Quickly, I did a shooter and ordered 2 more drinks. I walked through the bar looking for Tara.
Finally, I saw her across the room where she was engaged in close conversation with another woman. I enjoyed looking at her flirt, so I stepped back to watch as they began to get closer.
I was getting excited wondering if anything was going to happen. While waiting, I saw them kiss each other. Although I wasn't the recipient of her embrace, I imagined her sweet lips on mine.
Getting back to my place as quickly as we could, was our goal. While she drove, I sat close to her with my hands all over her, as I kissed her neck. Finally arriving hot and sweaty from dancing, I decided to get into the shower. Before I could soap myself down, Tara was in the shower with me.
She grabbed the soap from my hands and began to lather me up. It felt so good with her hands on me and her body pressed against mine. Her hands glided over my body. She looked so good with her body tanned and her breasts so soft. We kissed under the streams of warm water.
The next step was to be taken. Although I was very nervous, I allowed her to control me and take over. We got into bed and had sex. It felt better than I could have ever imagined. The following morning she acted as if it had never happened and was never able to deal with our intimacy.
This was to be the beginning of a repetitive pattern in my life. I was bursting to share my experience with my close friend Rebecca. Later that same day we were sitting on the grass in the warm sun when I told her the story. Finally, I reached the part of our sexual encounter.
Rebecca reacted very negatively and accused me of being very disturbed and mixed up. This was not what I had expected from a close friend. I was finally feeling that I had reached my true self that I had.
Suppressed for all too long. Her reaction was not at all what I needed. I decided to drop the whole subject: she just didn't understand. I didn't want to have to choose. Less than a week had gone by, when I received a call from Rebecca asking me to meet at a local bar. I was hesitatant: she insisted that I meet her.
Rebecca was strong, aggressive, beautiful and very sexy. I always had had a strong attraction to her, so I agreed. When I arrived, she had my favorite cocktail waiting for me, a Stoil Cape Cod. She motioned for me to sit on the bar stool next to her and I did. I was curious as to what was going on in her head. "What's going on Rebecca?" I asked.
She said she had been thinking about our lunch date the other day and she had said to me. Since I wasn't going to get into this, I decided not to speak. Rebecca went on. "I'm sorry I was so harsh with you. I've had time to think about it all and realized that it must have been difficult for you to tell me about that part of yourself. I felt like a fool for not being more understanding." Just then, she put her hand on my leg and leaned her beautiful red lips close to mine.
She then whispered to me, "I've had the same feelings about you and I reacted out of jealousy that you were with her and not me." She kissed me on the back of my ear. Staying cool was difficult. I had often had this in my mind - of she and I putting down our passion for each other. This was that moment, and I froze. Just then, the bartender approached us and asked us if we'd like another drink. Rebecca nodded yes.
We sat there gazing into each other's eyes with extremely large grins on our faces. We knew the doors had opened into a new dimension. Rebecca then said, "Come with me to the bathroom." I followed her being curious as to why. She closed the door aggressively and forcefully pushed me against the door as she began kissing me. Before I knew it, her blouse was unbuttoned and I gently slipped my hand into her bra and caressed her beautiful breasts.
Oh God, did I die and go into heaven at that moment. I was nervous, thinking that someone was going to come in any second, but that only added to my excitement. We continued and soon we were both topless pressing our bodies together with our hands in each other's pants. Rebecca was the woman of my dreams. Her sexuality poured out of her. She reminded me of Marilyn Monroe with her blonde.
Hair and shapely figure to die for. Men always gawked over her and now here I was, doing the things so many men had been wanting to do with her. This only added to my pleasure. She looked into my eyes and said, "Let's go out of here and go to my place." Rebecca and I became lovers and continued to see each other.
Regularly for two years she was my greatest love. I remember telling my mother I was gay, saying that "I'm in love with Rebecca." Mom wasn't shocked at all saying that she had already known of my relationship with Rebecca. She was sure that I would be seeing men again. I didn't want to believe this: I was too in love with Rebecca.
As it turned out, Rebecca fell in love with a man. Within two and a half years our relationship had ended.
Three years later in San Francisco, I found myself married to Ron. Looking back, I remembered our first meeting. He was so handsome that I just about melted. I hadn't had these feelings for such a long time and I was so excited. We were inseperable after our first meeting. He was at my place or I was at his. We moved in together and were engaged within a year. I was so happy to be in love again and to be getting married. We had an elaborated wedding. Before entering the church with my father at my side, I said to him, "What am I doing? I don't know if I truly love this man." Dad assured me that I would in time. Our honeymoon night was a disaster. We had rented a Honeymoon suite along the California coast.
Arriving, I was still in my wedding gown. People cheered. Within 20 minutes, guests arrived and Ron was already drunk. It seemed like the people would never leave. The night dragged on and on. By 11 a.m., as I sat there in my loneliness among all these people, I realized I had a great mistake. Marriage to this man could never be what I needed. A few months later I found myself needing the comfort of a friend.
Michelle was there to listen to me and support me with my feelings of dissatisfaction in my marriage. I began confiding to her about my past relationships with women which was all hidden to Ron. She initiated our love affair which lasted all of five months. At this same time, my marriage was getting to the point of destruction. Things were tense so we managed not to see each other much. He would work late and I spent my free time with Michelle. It all ended one night.
He told me it was over and that he was leaving me. The argument over Michelle was one that I'll never forget. I didn't see Ron again after that night. Michelle and I continued to see each other for a short while then she met Jeff. They started getting serious. Out time spent together was less and less. One day she finally dropped the bomb. She had decided it would be better if we didn't see each other as lovers anymore. Then she went on to say she didn't want to risk the chance of Jeff finding out about our relationship.
She wanted to have babies with this guy and didn't want to lose her man as I had done with Ron. Since Michelle, there continues to be both men and women in my life. Sometimes the other understands but most of the time they can not. The world does not yet have a place for bi-sexuality. Society has not yet accepted this possibility. Instead the world insists that all must chose. But this is not a choice, it is who I am. I do not want to change. I will always be bi-sexual.
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