I went to class that morning in a bad mood. Some students in the apartment next to mine had decided to ring in the school year with a big bash, and I had barely slept all night. At my polite request to keep the music down, several drunken frat boys had urged me to join the party. I almost considered it, but their leering gazes and sloppy attempts at flirtation made me a little sick and I withdrew.

I had spoken to my mother the evening before; she was depressing me with interminable talk of Scott, our rich neighbor's son, who was in law school now. He and I had dated a little the previous year, and my mom was just agog with the idea that we might be a match. He was a nice enough guy, and I had even let him fool around with me a little, but the idea of being his girlfriend or wife somehow completely put me off. My mother, of course, refused to listen to me and persistently kept praising him: his looks, his wealth, the education he was getting...

As I walked under the great oak trees on the lawn of our campus, a light drizzle fell from a dark grey sky like the grey of the forbidding institutional stone building in which my first class was to take place. I walked in to the small room, looked around, saw no one I knew, removed the sociology text from my bag and began leafing through it. A couple of great yawns escaped me, and I sucked greedily at the last dregs of my coffee. I heard the click of heels authoritatively approaching the front desk. A boy sitting next to me let out a little gasp and something that sounded like "Daaaammmn!" under his breath... I looked up.

A woman of about thirty was standing in front of the class. She had long jet black hair that fell in waves over her shoulders. She wore glasses, beaming a smile. Pink full lips, teeth like cultured pearls. A simple black skirt, and a loose fitting white blouse. Skin like a baby's, non-porous, white and smooth.

The moment I laid eyes on her, my heart began to quiver in my chest as if I was in the presence of danger. For a brief moment I felt the impulse to leave the classroom, but the sound of her voice and her bodies insouciant movements as she prowled around her desk speaking to us about god knows what suggested such gentle goodness and soft femininity that I wished she would go on speaking like that to us forever. The rest of the class passed in a blur, a dreamy miasma....

Scott called me that night. We talked and laughed. He could be a funny guy.

That Saturday, I was bored and restless. I couldn't concentrate on schoolwork and as some of my girlfriends were clamoring to go out to the bars and meet some guys I decided to go with them. It was Lora, Kayla, Sarah and I. We drank a little vodka and smoked some weed before leaving the dorm so were all in a pleasant mood.

The bar we decided on first was a little dive in a poorer neighborhood a few miles from campus. There were drink specials there and a dance floor. Many of the hipper, artsier students liked to frequent the place.

It was a beautiful late summer night, cool and breezy. My girlfriends and I had dressed to the nines. I was wearing a black skirt with high boots, leaving my legs bare around the knees and a silk blouse. My red hair was done up in pigtails that Sarah had given them to me as a kind of joke before we went out, but they actually looked really cute.

Men were all over us from the beginning, but I got the most attention. Several times, a guy would stop short when he caught his first glimpse of me, his jaw would drop a little and his eyes would get that glazed intent look. I knew I looked good, and it gave me a sense of power that was very nice but at the same time annoying because it made me the subject of attentions that I had no intention of satisfying. Even my own friends sometimes remarked how they found me cold or even frigid, and I had come to believe that a little myself.

I saw my gay friend Seth and wandered over to him, glad to find someone to talk to while my girlfriends were dancing and flirting. I sat down with him and we chatted about this and that. I mentioned something about our Sociology class and his face lit up with a gossipy brightness...

"Did you see Ms. Xavier? She's here tonight! On the patio! She got into this huge argument with some chick earlier, she started crying and the girl left. Since then she's been nursing the same gin and tonic."

Curious, I went to have a look.

Sitting all alone at a table outside was Ms. X. She had dark mascara on that had run somewhat. Her long hair fell almost to the table at which she sat running her finger over the rim of a clear fizzy cocktail containing a small straw and a wedge of lime. She was wearing a beige tank top and matching skirt with leather pumps. Her legs were bare. I looked at here for a while; or rather I drank in the beauty of her pale face smeared with black makeup as if she were some rare bird or precious jewel. She was deeply sad and I felt I wanted to drink in that visage in all its wasted melancholy. It was like looking at some great painting that touches you, from which you cannot walk away as it keeps offering you level upon level of sublime beauty.

As if suddenly aware of something, she looked up and our eyes met. For a second, they stayed locked and neither of us moved, then she smiled and I felt myself smiling back. After two or three seconds though, the warmth of this friendly smile faded from her face and something pensive seemed to enter in behind her eyes and to cloud them; the color drained even more from her face and she bit her lower lip. I felt my body moving itself forward.

I sat down with her. "Hi!"

"Hi."

"Havin a good time?"

"I guess so."

Silence.

"Doesn't look like you are."

She considered this and said, "I just broke up with my girlfriend. It's been a rough night."

"Oh." At this admission of her sexuality, a dam seemed to break in my soul. It was like having a dream where you're falling and wake up suddenly in a panic.

"Is that okay with you?" she asked in a tender voice, but not without sarcasm...

I don't remember what I replied, but it must have reassured her or else she read something in my face, because she smiled and began to look a bit more cheerful.

We talked about school a little. Her voice had a husky velvety timbre; her mind was sharp and she was funny, witty, made jokes about the various ridiculous people we saw moving about the club, there on our own little island.

I am very liberal, but she managed to shock me a little with her own radicalism when we touched on politics. I'd never really known anyone who cared about ideas so much. I moved closer to her, hanging on every word she said, fixating on her pink lips as if I could witness the words tangibly escaping her mouth. We had polished off a couple of cocktails when my drunken friends came to collect me.

"Goodbye Ms. X, it was nice talking to you..." And we moved towards the door.

They were in a raucous mood, practically racing out to move on to the next nightclub. I tugged on Kayla's arm.

"I'm not going, make some excuse for me, will you?"

She protested but gave up soon enough. Now my friends were gone. The pounding in my heart intensified. I felt like the victim of some sacrificial rite ready to be hurled into the maw of an active volcano. I turned around, Ms, X was standing right there.

"I thought you'd left?" she asked me.

"I wanted to spend the night with you," I said.

That pensive cloud passed over her face again. I threw myself into that volcano, ecstatically...

She had a big old house, completely dark as we entered, smelling of antique wood. As she turned on the lights and kicked off her pumps, I felt a Deja Vu, as if I had already entered through this door and sauntered through these rooms a thousand times before. She told me to make myself comfortable. She was going to take a quick shower. I heard the water go on and the curtain slide on its rod and back again. She had left the door slightly ajar.

'What am I doing here?' I felt like fainting. The blood seemed to have left my head, I was dizzy and I felt that my body was acting independently and in spite of my conscious will. My mind wanted to flee this place but was frustrated in advance. Something deeper animated me, something too powerful to thwart.

I took off my boots, I undid the pigtails from my hair. I entered the bathroom quietly and looked at myself in the mirror; there I am, little Rachel Miles, still a schoolgirl. I watched myself as I removed my blouse and bra. I admired my breasts; I fondled them and slid my skirt and panties off. I looked at Audrey's discarded underthings and a sweet feeling of intimacy stole into me, bolstering my courage. I slid back the shower curtain. I saw her naked, wet, glistening; glorious... She looked at me, her face showing not the least sign of surprise.

She turned fully to me, in brazen expectation, showing me her large pale breasts. I gasped in awe and stepped boldly in. She put her hand to my face to draw it to hers, almost instantly it seemed our lips our breasts our loins were locked. I had often heard described by others great sexual affairs. How they had swooned in a man’s arms, plunging into this primordial ecstasy where two become one etc., etc...
So it wasn't romantic nonsense. It could be oh so real.

We eagerly soaped each other’s ample curves. I sucked her tits while kneading her ass. She giggled a little then moaned with pleasure. We stroked each other’s pussies, regarding one another like hungry animals. Somehow we dried off and made our way to the bed. I lay down like a virgin bride; she slid on top of me, offering her crotch to me as she dove into my center, passionately licking. We stayed locked in that 69 a long time. I never knew that kind of pleasure before, the sight alone of her proffering so eagerly her round bubbled ass to my face sent me into a trance of ecstasy. I licked and sucked her eagerly, the music of our mutual moaning filling the air of the bedroom, her mouth sucking untapped reserves of pleasure from every nerve in my body. I gushed in wave after wave. My own face, much of my hair even was drenched...

With a sly look on her face, she opened a bedside drawer and removed a fairly large strap-on dildo.

"Now it is time to make you mine, sweetheart," she said, laughing like a devil.

I already felt that I was her slave and powerless to resist her least impulse. Our mouths met, we rapaciously kissed, savoring the taste of each other’s sweet nectar. She spread my legs. I felt her mounting, the head of her girlcock teasing my rim until she pushed it in, bit by bit. I felt her enter me, my walls widening to take her in. Soon our hips were bucking in rhythm and she pounded my pussy, her breasts hanging over me, offering themselves to me like ripe fruit.

I hardly recognized the voice in which I spoke to her - a husky broken croak of phrases like, "Fuck me... I want you... I love you..." continually escaped me.

She flipped me over on all fours, asking me if I liked ass-play. She kissed my neck, letting her soft breasts glide along my back.

"Anything with you," I gasped, almost tearful with joy.

I was so wet I didn't fear penetration there; her fingers, then her tongue, coyly danced around the rim of my anus, the sensation sending sweet shivers through my body. I felt her wet slick tongue licking my most sensitive area. With an erect tongue I felt her enter. In a frenzy, I grabbed her hair, pushing myself into her, bucking my ass against her beautiful face.

After that, I got on top of her. I wanted to grind my pussy into hers. I mounted, taking her long shapely leg and licking them. I rolled my hips, gently at first. She cried out as our wet lips pressed and grinded, our sweet honey mingling. I looked down at her heaving, sweaty enraptured body. She was holy and transfigured like a saint in mystic ecstasy. We came endlessly and finally, exhausted, fell into each other’s arms, hardly able to breathe.

Did I know or suspect that lust would little by little pass over into the sweetness and tenderness of love? Our bodies lying together, our arms wrapped around each other, her sweet feminine scent and the hint of a look of devotion on her face perhaps told me so.

"Who am I?" I wondered for perhaps the first time. "What am I becoming?"

I turned to her, smoothed her hair back and asked her, in all seriousness. "Am I gay?" She laughed out loud.

"I don't know, Rachel, maybe. Just maybe.” And we kissed again.