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  • — Out of the Closet —
    Lesbian Female / 43

    Guilt, Catholic guilt. I am pretty sure that only Catholics appreciate the Catholic guilt. I am female so the guilt trip is a lot higher than it is for males. I was one of sisters, no boys in our family. My mother was very religious and we went to Mass every Sunday and usually we had some sort of Catholic thing that was going on. Catholic girls do not look at other Catholic girls. There are sins, but that is one sin that you cannot get out of. Looking at another girl.

    Her name was Kathy. She was new in our town, she came from Monroe, Louisiana and everyone knows that girls from Louisiana are easy. She was taller than me, her hair was dark and her eyes were dark and my father told me that she was probably a Cajun. To me she was the prettiest girl I had ever met. She was a senior in high school and I was a freshman. In the bathroom I had seen her nipple, she had bent over to clean her shoe with a tissue and I saw her nipple. I masturbated for the first time thinking about her. I got two fingers inside of me and I didn't stop until I had an orgasm. My first. I died from shame afterwards.

    As one of four girls I knew that the penalty for masturbation was bad so I did not talk to my priest. I dreamt on my bed that she was leaning over to kiss me, I could feel her lips on mine, I dreamt it was her hand touching me, I pulled my legs up and used my fingers and masturbated dreaming that she was kissing my breasts but that she would only give me a little small kiss on my sex down there.

    I went to the bookstore and I found these books on homosexuality. I read them in the isle, I bought a novel, Lover, and took it with me and read it in the bathroom and kept it hidden under my mattress. I went to church to see her, I stayed late at school to see her. She saw me, how couldn't she, I was always there. One day she asked me if I didn't have someplace else to go. I was embarrassed. At church she came up to me and apologized and said she didn't mean to be harsh, it is just that her friends noticed and they were asking about me.

    She went to college and I stayed in love. I wrote her long letters while she was away, pages and pages, I imitated the writing style of the novel, in one describing what I wore on Sunday with notes about how I didn't like the bras that my mother bought me and she gave me suggestions and told me that when she was home she would take me bra shopping. She needed some bras so that is something we could do together. Sometimes she would answer my letters with a short letters telling me to cool it, I sounded like I was going to explode. And once she wrote me and told me that it was ok, I could write to her and tell her everything I felt, no matter how personal, she wanted me to know that I should write to her every day if I wanted, she loved getting my letters and read them over and over.

    One day I got this letter, it was typed. It had one sentence on it. "Do you love me?". After her signature she had three hearts. I took me a while, I mean a while because I was still staring at her typed words, until I noticed that in each heart she had written I LOVE YOU. Talk about a melt down. I was fifteen. When she came home for Thanksgiving I couldn't wait to see her and I had my older sister drive me over to her house. Things were crazy, she told me to calm down, to cool it. We made arrangements to see each other on Friday at the mall.

    She took me bra shopping like she said. She picked out her bras and she helped me pick out my bras and we got in the stall and she got topless and helped me get topless and she held my breasts with her hands and had me put my hands on her breasts. Maybe a half a minute, but it was a half a minute and she helped me try on several bras, cupping me with each one to find the right one, all the time braless. After she found a bra for herself we paid and we went out into the mall and she took me aside and said that I shouldn't be telling anyone that we bought bras together. And that included my sisters.

    On Saturday she invited me to her house. We spent all afternoon in her room. She locked the door and laid back on her bed and asked me which part I liked best. What ever I liked best I could take off. But anything I took off she would take off of me. Of course I started with her top and she took off my top and sat there bare breasted touching our nipples and she leaned over and kissed my nipple and she had me lean over and kiss hers. She leaned back on the bed and told me to take something else off, something that was really private. She was long and her legs came together in a perfect V. She put her finger at the top of her V and told me that is exactly where she wanted the kiss. She took off my pants and laid me out on the bed with my legs straight and kissed me right there. She said we had to get serious. So she took my knees and opened my legs and pushed them back and lowered her head until she had her mouth on me and shot her tongue into me. It was my turn next and it was hard to do, but it also felt good to do. We had done 'it'. It was the first time for both of us.

    Later on as things got serious and people noticed and we were both out of college and living together and we had come out to our families, we moved to the West Coast where things were supposed to be easier. We didn't fit in and we moved to New York where we live today. Today it is pretty easy, no one seems to care. But back then my priest when he found out that I was seeing a girl pretty much excommunicated me from our church. People talked, some were supportive, some weren't. Kids at school were generally supportive, whatever made you happy. In college I was there alone so no one really knew. At work I had a roommate, so many other young professionals had roommates, they had just not gone to our apartment where we were definitely roommates. In the end the rumors about girls from Monroe, Louisiana turned out to be true, those girls were easy, just not they way the boys had wanted.

    #40751 — Comments (2) — Jul 9, 2018 at 9:09 AM — That's Juicy! (6) Remove This.
  • 1
    I'm from Monroe, Louisiana. Also easy, I guess. I'm 77, white married man. And I love to suck cock. Especially nice black cock. I enjoyed your story.
    9 days ago
  • 2
    Have you seen the new Catholic porn video It's 15 minutes of sex, 45 minutes of guilt.
    7 days ago




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