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Lesbian Stories
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Lesbian Female / 57
My Culture Handled My Orientation Early, But In The Closet
When I go through pictures of my growing up years the last picture I can find of me in a dress is for my 1st Communion. After that I wore pants, shorts, anything. But not a dress. Or long hair. or anything feminine. I was a tomboy, in all ways. My friends at school were always boys, and I had very jealous feelings about this and that girl. So much so that I was considered a bad influence and I wasn't allowed to be friends with them.
Puberty was hell. My body rebelled against me. I was prepuberty short compared to the boys, slim. Overnight I got hips and tits. I mean tits. I had to start wearing a bra at 12 and by then I was in full menses. Bleeding like a stuffed pig. It was during puberty that I got upset with this one girl because she ignored me and I held her down on the ground and kissed her. I stood over her and declared her my girlfriend. This was a public display of affection and I ended up in the school office. My parents sent me to a counselor, a woman. She is and was a butch lesbian in every sense of the word. She is the first person to use the word lesbian with me, homosexual, gay, boys and boys and girls and girls.
The drawings of boys kissing and holding hands repulsed me. The drawings of girls kissing and holding hands drew me closer. I was diagnosed and put into therapy. Weekly meeting with this woman to talk about feelings, sexual feelings, like wanting to kiss a girl. Had I ever thought about kissing a girl between the legs, a drawing showed this girl on her back and this other girl with her head between her legs. I liked the drawings, perfect bodies, small tits of course. I have big tits, so I guess it was just natural to like girls with small tits.
I was exposed to full on photographs of naked women. Some of naked men, but like I said that repulsed me. My first ever encounter with a woman's full blown open pubic was via a photograph of a young woman. For medical purposes only. My therapist went through clinically, this is the vagina, this is the opening of the urethra, this is the clitoris. These are the labia, this is the mound, sex ed except no penis. I was a lesbian girl and this woman was there to get me to accept myself, but I had to go through all of the presentations. Full on photographs of girls dancing together, of girls holding hands, of girls kissing, kissing with one hand on the other girls tit.
She told me I was most definitely a homosexual. Gay, and for women, Lesbian. One day I would find that perfect girl, but for now I had to keep my hands off the girls. Here, she showed me a small device, use this to masturbate. I got a full session on anal penetration and NOT TO DO IT.
I then got to the lectures on social behaviors, and wanting children and getting married, even if that wasn't my first instinct. You can safely marry a man for the obvious reasons, you need a man to have children. You may not want one right now, but that is something you need to be prepared to deal with. There was an offhand remark about hiring a maid to be close with, that's what she did. She showed me a picture of her maid. That's what all the lesbians did in our circle. Just don't marry a gay man.
I had this and that sexual experience, but never with girls that I went to school with. Until my mother hired a maid. Maids, or more precisely daughters of maids. That's what you do, have your mother hire a maid with a daughter that's your age. That's what my mother did. My maid was Cecilia. MY MAID. When I went to college Cecilia went with me. When I got married Cecilia went with me. When I had children, Cecilia was with me. When I write this Cecilia is with me. Cecilia. I LOVE HER. It's my husband that I have a hard time loving.
NOTE: I never once refused my husband. Not once. And I am still in the closet. Everyone knows, but no one talks about it.
Puberty was hell. My body rebelled against me. I was prepuberty short compared to the boys, slim. Overnight I got hips and tits. I mean tits. I had to start wearing a bra at 12 and by then I was in full menses. Bleeding like a stuffed pig. It was during puberty that I got upset with this one girl because she ignored me and I held her down on the ground and kissed her. I stood over her and declared her my girlfriend. This was a public display of affection and I ended up in the school office. My parents sent me to a counselor, a woman. She is and was a butch lesbian in every sense of the word. She is the first person to use the word lesbian with me, homosexual, gay, boys and boys and girls and girls.
The drawings of boys kissing and holding hands repulsed me. The drawings of girls kissing and holding hands drew me closer. I was diagnosed and put into therapy. Weekly meeting with this woman to talk about feelings, sexual feelings, like wanting to kiss a girl. Had I ever thought about kissing a girl between the legs, a drawing showed this girl on her back and this other girl with her head between her legs. I liked the drawings, perfect bodies, small tits of course. I have big tits, so I guess it was just natural to like girls with small tits.
I was exposed to full on photographs of naked women. Some of naked men, but like I said that repulsed me. My first ever encounter with a woman's full blown open pubic was via a photograph of a young woman. For medical purposes only. My therapist went through clinically, this is the vagina, this is the opening of the urethra, this is the clitoris. These are the labia, this is the mound, sex ed except no penis. I was a lesbian girl and this woman was there to get me to accept myself, but I had to go through all of the presentations. Full on photographs of girls dancing together, of girls holding hands, of girls kissing, kissing with one hand on the other girls tit.
She told me I was most definitely a homosexual. Gay, and for women, Lesbian. One day I would find that perfect girl, but for now I had to keep my hands off the girls. Here, she showed me a small device, use this to masturbate. I got a full session on anal penetration and NOT TO DO IT.
I then got to the lectures on social behaviors, and wanting children and getting married, even if that wasn't my first instinct. You can safely marry a man for the obvious reasons, you need a man to have children. You may not want one right now, but that is something you need to be prepared to deal with. There was an offhand remark about hiring a maid to be close with, that's what she did. She showed me a picture of her maid. That's what all the lesbians did in our circle. Just don't marry a gay man.
I had this and that sexual experience, but never with girls that I went to school with. Until my mother hired a maid. Maids, or more precisely daughters of maids. That's what you do, have your mother hire a maid with a daughter that's your age. That's what my mother did. My maid was Cecilia. MY MAID. When I went to college Cecilia went with me. When I got married Cecilia went with me. When I had children, Cecilia was with me. When I write this Cecilia is with me. Cecilia. I LOVE HER. It's my husband that I have a hard time loving.
NOTE: I never once refused my husband. Not once. And I am still in the closet. Everyone knows, but no one talks about it.
