When The Shit Hit The Fan, We All Turned Up Lesbians

I am on a cruise with three other women. We were all suite mates in college, in the freshman dorm. We hadn't met guys, or the guys we met hadn't asked us out. None of us were cheerleaders. It was Friday night and it was raining. We decided to stay in and eat at the cafeteria. We went back to our rooms, like I said a suite set up, two rooms, one bathroom in the middle. A bottle of Vodka appeared and we started taking shots, silver bullets. We got tipsy and one girl got aggressive and tore my top off, and held my arms behind my back to show off my tits to the other girls. We weren't neophytes, we shared one shower and we had seen each other completely naked. But this was sexual and she took he top off and rubbed her chest into me, her arms around my neck and kissed me on the mouth. The last thing that made sense to me was her telling me not to deny her.

The other two girls watched, one had an old polaroid and took some pictures. Pictures of mouths full of pussy. Pictures sucking titty. And pictures making out naked on the bed. She spent her whole packet of polaroid picture of us naked and in very compromising positions. Our roommate was most definitely lesbian, and by her own admission, and her object of affection was me. I spent my entire college education as her girlfriend. We swapped rooms, and I went to her room and she slept with me. We moved off campus. and we got the room with one bed in it. While our roommates dated, trying to fit in on campus, she kept me. By the time college ended I had lived with her, slept with her, dressed with her, vacationed with her, gone to meet her parents. She was wide open lesbian and I was her girlfriend.

I went home after college to face the music. She and I were moving to California, the land of lesbians, Oakland. We had found a small one bedroom efficiency, all we could afford in a part of town which was overtly gay and lesbian. Any attempts to deny my situation fell on deaf ears. If I was her lover, it's because she was my lover, she was a total butch by the time we graduated, except for the motorcycle clothes. She shaved me completely smooth, she shaved me. Later I went to a spa for it. The one thing that pissed her off was that she was denied a penis. If she had a penis, she would have shown me how she would fuck me.

In Oakland I was approached, hit on, touched, grabbed, and pushed around by some pretty dyke lesbians. I had a nickname, Sweety. I was a pillow princess, not active, but not all lesbian girls are comfortable being active. I didn't pull back when I was kissed in public, or when she put her arm around me. By the time we got to Oakland I was used to being touched and kissed by her. I knew what I didn't want to admit to. If there were lesbians like her, there had to be lesbians like me.

Those polaroid pictures go on all our trips together. Those pictures are the glue that has kept us together. The other two girls decided a long time ago that they would forego any male companion. They had each other so why bother. They live in Austin where we went to school. They are an open air couple. Just not butch and fairy princess. When they kiss they mean it. Each year we get together and we tape the polaroids to the wall of the cabin, and we have a free for all, all naked. We 'eat' pussy, that's what we are there for. It's our annual vacation. We never miss it. Even I eat pussy. It's an obligation.