Yes, this story is under Lesbian Sex. Which if you know me is no shocker, but I was debating this one a bit. Therefore, as always—
ADDITIONAL CATEGORIES: First Time, Romance
*****
Academy Accord
Monday, August 29th, 2016, 3:08 p.m.
Denmore College. An institution of higher learning, and even higher prospects for all ages on the edge of tomorrow. A grand place to make primary scholastic strides and secondary friends. A university that strove for the most efficient administration, finest faculty, most diligent students, and the overall top education experiences in the state of Minnesota. It was here that over the past 65 years, thousands of successful futures were shaped and molded. And that of the new generation of matriculators only looked brighter.
The new fall semester was underway, day one almost complete. The 3:00 hour’s classes would be the last for many, including several in the Language Arts complex—room 318, Professor Maxine Mitchell’s comparative lit class. And one just finding her way eight minutes in. She located the door, double-checked her schedule, took a breath, gave a few quick knocks and opened up.
“Hi! Hey. ‘Scuse me,” she nervously addressed the prof, pushing up her glasses. “Um, Professor Mitchell? Comparative literature?”
“That’s right,” confirmed Prof. Mitchell. “Your name, please?”
“Lola Lunden.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Lunden. You’re tardy.”
“I-I know, I’m really sorry. I’ll try my best not to let it happen again.”
“Well, go ahead and grab a seat—preferably an empty one—and open your text to page seven.”
“Okay,” Lola sheepishly chuckled, choosing a vacant middle desk in row three as Prof. Mitchell went on. Lola, a bit pink in the face, retrieved her comp lit book and opened with a quiet breath of frustration. It was not only her first day of the semester, it was her first attending the university. She’d been a bit late finding just about all her classes, and her head was spinning. She wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to find them next time either. And quite frankly, she felt overwhelmed.
A voice softly addressed Lola from her right.
“Hey. Ya can copy my notes if ya want.”
“Oh! Thank you so much, that’d be…”
Lola looked up to see the friendly face offering her help. Her heart swooned into a cartwheel.
Affably half-smiling at her was a dazzlingly lovely strawberry blonde. Around her forehead dwelled a headband with an American flag print. Her face was also adorned with a third and fourth eye: almost perfectly round, honey-gold-tinted shades. They rested halfway down her nose, inviting Lola into her crinkly turquoise peepers. Curly bangs hung casually over her headband. Equally frizzy curly hair snaked the sides of her face, half-concealing her ears. She wore a tie-dyed top whose pattern radiated from between the breasts, in the shape of a butterfly. Her bottom half was decked in Wrangler jeans and leather boots. Wow, Lola couldn’t help but think. She looked so… so… cool. Lola forced her mouth to work again and finished her sentence.
“…Just wonderful.”
Her neighbor threw her a point-shoot-wink combo, punctuating it with a less subtle smile. Lola had to smile back.
Forty-one minutes later, the class—and Lola’s first day at Denmore—concluded. Prof. Maxine Mitchell dismissed. Lola heard classmates rise around her in an aimless wave. She blew out her breath and again repositioned her glasses.
What a day, she thought, hoping sooner than later she’d get into the swing of things here at Denmore. What, a, day.
She turned to her right, where her stylish, foxy neighbor sat still, getting together her accoutrement. Lola was treated for just a few moments to the side profile of her face. She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. She cleared her throat and tried again.
“Oh, yeah, um…” she piped up, beckoning the vixen’s attention back her way. “Thanks again for letting me copy your notes.”
“Ah, ‘course, buddy! Pleasure, eh…Lola, right?”
“Yes! Yes.” Lola stood with her, refilling her backpack. “And…you are, may I ask?”
“Delighted to make your acquaintance.”
Lola arched her eyebrows. “Uh-huh. Well. Right back at you.”
“‘M just teasin’ ya,” said the strawberry blonde, offering her hand. “I’m Sunny.”
Almost as if on cue, Lola felt her soul warm a bit. She accepted the pawshake.
“Sunny?”
“Sunny Saunders. Well. Truth be told, my real name’s actually Morgan. But everyone calls me Sunny. I never go anywhere without m’shades. They’re kinda like my good luck charm. Goes beautiful with my last name too, don’tcha think?”
Lola gazed at her through her own lenses. She could almost swear a bright pastiche of blooming flowers and chirping bluebirds materialized around the Sunny Morgan. Her nickname indeed fit. Lola was quite charmed.
“I’m rus escort quite charmed.”
“I do seem to have that effect on people.”
Lola zipped her backpack shut and threw it over her shoulders.
“Whew! Thank goodness this is my last class. Most, stressful, day, ever.”
“Oh. I hear ya, Lolly. I’m gonna call ya Lolly. ‘Cause ya seem sweet like candy. I’m really good at readin’ people’s vibes.”
Lola “Lolly” Lunden felt a smile curl up her lips. Maybe she’d spoken too soon. Maybe this day wasn’t so stressful anymore.
“Hey, uh…Sunny? …Is this your last class today too?”
“‘Tis, Miz,” Sunny smiled back, displaying a big beautiful mouthful of teeth.
“Oh, awesome,” said Lola. “May I, eh…walk you to your car?”
Sunny smirked, arching a single brow. An additional curl of hair slipped over her forehead.
“I’ll do ya one better. I see your walk to my car, and raise ya a mocha and a doughnut at Perx. If you’re interested.”
Lola ballooned with excitement. But she tried to be cool. So to speak.
“HECK YE—…ahem! …I’m quite interested, Sunny. That sounds lovely.”
“Classic! So if it’s cool, I’ll drive and treat.”
Lola gave her one positive, affirmative nod. “It’s very cool.” All set, they headed for the door.
“So…Sunny, have you been going here for a while?”
“Sure. Kicking off my third year, fifth semester.”
“Oh, fantastic. My family just moved here. I am so lost in this place. I was late for almost all my classes! Embarrassing and stressful day. Please be my best friend and show me around.”
“Oh-ho, Snapple-dapple. Sorry to hear it. But a’right; I think that can be arranged.”
“Uh, that second part is non-negotiable.”
*****
U.S. Wheels
Monday, August 29th, 2016, 4:02 p.m.
The automobile. By far the most popular, widely used form of motorized transportation. A machine in variations galore, historical and present. Two thousand pounds of steel crafted and adapted to suit every driver’s unique needs. An effective mode of short-term and long-term travel. A host of journeys near and far, brief and wide. A customized environment of aesthetic sight, stereo sound, comfortable touch. And upon acquisition, new smell. Protection from extreme weather. A symbol of self-expression, of style, of financial status. And in the case of Morgan “Sunny” Saunders, generous guardians.
The girls stepped out of another Denmore door back into the fair summer air, and Sunny took Lola to her vehicle. She whipped out her keys and remote, pressed, and up it woke with a chirp. Again, Lola was visually stunned.
“Whoa! This is your car??”
“Ya betcha. Tesla Model ‘S-la.’ Twenty-fourteen’s Christmas gift from the folks. They promised if I got into Denmore, they’d see me gettin’ there and back in a helluva sweet ride.”
Lola slapped her paws to her cheeks. “Oh my gosh! It’s…it’s so…”
“…Sleek?”
“Sleek, chic, on ‘fleek’—if I’m using that right—and…well, I can be a bit of a meek pipsqueak and a unique, tongue-in-cheek geek, so even a sneak peek can make me squeak, freak and go weak. So it’s out of a streak of awe that I speak… ‘EEEEEK!'”
Sunny stared at her for a moment with raised brows and an amused expression. Lola turned her way, realizing.
“Oh…did I do it again?”
Sunny’s eyes darted a bit behind her semi-translucent golden shades.
“If by ‘do it again’ ya mean suddenly turn into a walkin’ talkin’ rhymin’ dictionary…I reckon so.”
“Whoops…please pardon me,” Lola tittered, again feeling self-conscious. She wanted to impress Sunny, not annoy her. And in her experience, more folks found this little quirk of hers annoying than impressive.
“It’s…this weird habit of mine,” she told Sunny, making sure her explanation didn’t rhyme. “I don’t even know where it came from. Sometimes out of nowhere, it just sort of spills out of me…but it also seems to irritate people. I, um…hope you didn’t find it too off-putting. One time someone called me Edgar Allen ‘Poe-et’ on steroids.”
Sunny laughed. It was a magical, musical sound Lola thought she could’ve listened to all day.
“I didn’t think it was off-puttin’ or irritatin’ at all, babe. I thought it was kinda fun. Ya charmed me this time.”
A kaleidoscope of happy butterflies tickled Lola’s belly.
“All right, great! Well, uh…” She approached the passenger seat. “…May I?”
“Please do. ‘S open.”
Lola did as asked. The interior was just as dazzling. She slid into the seat and found the belt with her hands, while her eyes scanned the dashboard. The display was huge. It looked like a giant iPad screen. She could only imagine how many goodies and features it came loaded with. She almost didn’t notice Sunny pop in beside her.
“Whew! ‘Kay! Now, hope ya don’t mind, when yenimahalle escort it’s warmer out I like to drive with my window down. I just love the way it feels. I also love to put on my favorite tunes. But if either o’ those bothers ya, I don’t have to.”
“No, no, that’s fine by me. Both of…’it.’ It…sounds…good, and…yeah, also sounds fun, and…good.”
Realizing she should’ve stopped six words into this reply, Lola immediately felt embarrassed.
Nice one, Lola…you geek. God, I’m so lame. But to her relief, Sunny just good-naturedly chuckled.
“Dynamite.” She connected her iPhone, set it to shuffle her favorites, turned the engine, and lowered her window. A semi-obscure early ’80s new wave tune filtered out, intro’d by a synth-keyboard.
“Ooh!” said Sunny, adjusting her shades and pulling out. “An oldie! Ain’t too many o’ those in my list.”
Female vocals joined. The song sounded like it was definitely from before the girls’ time, and yet…somehow, Lola recognized it. She turned to see Sunny drumming fingers on the steering wheel as she drove.
“This…sounds…familiar. But I don’t know from where.”
“‘Dya see Clueless?”
It took Lola a second, but she got it. “Oh my gosh, that’s it! That’s where it’s from! It was, like…the first song.”
“Bingo. Technically, that was a cover. This is the original. I like this one better. I know there was at least one ‘real’ ’80s song in that movie, but apparently in this one’s case they needed a cover.”
“…Huh.” Lola took a second of reflection, then started drumming her thighs. She enjoyed the music, and appreciated its presence. The truth was, she wasn’t the best at coming up with impromptu or interesting conversation with a new acquaintance. Particularly one whose stunning beauty rendered her even shier than normal. But thanks to the soundtrack, she didn’t have to. They both silently hummed along a moment. The first verses jumped into the bridge, which led into the chorus. Sunny abruptly sang along. Out loud.
“…We’re the kids in America, whoa-oh!… We’re the kids in America, whoa-oh!…
“Everybody live for the music-go-round (round round round round)!…”
Lola turned to her with wide eyes. That was hot. The girl sang awesome too. She was so cool! (…And hot!) She even sang the echoes. Sunny whipped her face Lola’s way to flash a grin. “Lolly” simply had to smile herself. This had turned into a wild day, in just a few minutes. She wanted to say so. So she did. Though she had to up her volume, as they’d now gotten on the highway.
“SUNNY, THIS FEELS PRETTY WILD.”
Sunny snapped her fingers, pointing at the dashboard. “EXACTLY.”
“HUH?”
They slowed to a red light. Sunny clarified.
“This chick’s name’s Kim Wilde.”
“…No…kidding?”
“Nope. Know what’s even Wilde-er?”
“What?”
“She’s British. A song called ‘Kids In America’ sung by a kid in England.”
“Heh! That’s pretty funny. And it is a really cool song.”
“Better than the Clueless version, huh?”
The light turned green. Another quarter mile, and Sunny took them onto the interstate. With a wider array of lanes and no traffic lights, they accelerated. The next—and more recent—song came on, “Party In The U.S.A.” by Miley Cyrus. Lola turned to Sunny to remark, “Wow, that’s a coincidence, huh?” But a new spectacle captured her fancy.
With the speed up and the window down, Sunny’s curly strawberry blonde hair flew behind her into the air. Perfectly. Some of it ever so gently whapped her face, but the whole image only endeared her more to Lola. Moreover, it looked like it felt really good.
“HEY SUNNY?”
“YEAH, BABE?”
OOH-hoo-hoo… Lola liked hearing Sunny call her “babe.”
“CAN I ROLL MY WINDOW DOWN TOO?”
“GO FOR IT.”
It did feel nice. Now allowed through both front windows, the whipping wind played havoc with both heads of hair. It was not as kind to Lola’s glasses, which kept slipping down however much she pushed them up. Finally she decided that since she wasn’t driving, she didn’t need them right now. So she removed them and let the rest of the ride be a fuzzy blur. Besides…
In this short time enjoying her company, Lola had already developed a modest-sized crush on Sunny. But she had to keep reminding herself, she didn’t even know if the girl was gay. Or attached. Or even married. Well, she didn’t see any rings on those fingers, but still. The doll was gorgeous. And by relinquishing her vision for the moment and resting her eyes, at least she wouldn’t be “tempted” to do something inappropriate. She still really didn’t even know the babe. And vice versa.
Although I do know I’m enjoying the heck out of myself right now.
The next song started. Lola sat up as her heart jumped.
Gasp. “‘Take My Heart Away’!”
Sunny turned to her. “Hey, good ear!” she remarked.
“Of course!” said Lolly. “That’s Velette! I’m in love with her! On…several levels. One, her music’s amazing. Another, I kinda worship her like a goddess. Another, she’s smoking hot. And, we lesbians gotta stick together and look out for each other.”
Sunny paused. “…I… take it when ya say lesbians, ya mean you and her.”
Lola couldn’t deny feeling her heart sink a bit at these words. Her companion went on.
“I mean, I used to feel like it’d be so cool to have a gay friend. But then I realized that was just an airtight reason no one could call me a homophobe. Not that I am a homophobe, mind ya; I’m not. But us straight peeps gotta make it known. Anyway, point is, it was the wrong reason to want someone as a friend. Friends should be someone ya got lots in common with, get along pretty great and just hang with, without gettin’ sick of each other. Regardless who they date. Or kiss.”
Lola gave a small giggle. “That’s very true, I agree. And lots of gay people are nice, but some are jerks…just like there’ll be people who are jerks in any group. That’s a reason not to like someone.”
“Well said, chick-pea!” called Sunny, tossing her a nod. “Y’know, I don’t wanna get ahead of myself or nothin’, but, uh…
“…Som’n tells me this could be the beginning of a beautiful buddy-ship.”
*****
Always Mocha Lola
Monday, August 29th, 2016, 4:32 p.m.
Perx. The premier coffee and pastry shop in the heart of Juniper, Minnesota. A thirty-five-year enterprise that kept the city awake and alert during its busy days. A couple dozen locations throughout, mostly scattered about the business district and metropolis. A grand meeting place, a relaxation station, a hub of activity for businesspersons on the go, networkers, laborers on lunch break, and so forth. A magnificent milieu, an ambient atmosphere full of wonderful scents and tasty treats.
The door jingled as Sunny and Lola ingressed. They inhaled deep, letting their olfactory senses be properly intoxicated. The same deep breath was let out with Sunny’s “ahhhhhh” and Lola’s “mmmmm.” They approached the counter.
“I know you said doughnut, but I think I want a bear claw if that’s okay,” said Lolly.
“Absolutely not.”
For just a second Lola turned back to her in surprise, until Sunny giggled at her, with a gentle punch on the arm.
“Course it’s okay, ya goof! Get whatever ya want. I get a mocha every time, but I just said doughnut and a mocha as, like, y’know, generics. Like ‘dinner and a movie.’ But obviously, yeah, specifics’re up to you.”
“Oh, awesome. Well, in that case…” Lola turned to the counter, and the server attending to them.
“One medium frappuccino and one bear claw, please.”
“Excellent choice…and for you, Miss?”
“Medium mocha, jelly doughnut, raspberry glaze.”
“Oooh, that sounds good too,” Lola cooed, feeling her mouth water a bit. She pretended the double entendre of being a lesbian lusting after a doughnut did not occur to her. “Might have to go that way next time.”
The order was paid for, prepared, and served. The lasses collected their goodies and staked a friendly-looking table by the window. Besides the hustle and bustle behind the counters, the joint was abuzz with chats of day workers, ticking and clicking of mobile devices, and the far subtler sound of sipping and chewing. Lolly and Sunny slid into their chairs.
“So then!” began Sunny, as they tore and dug in. “Tell me everything there is to know about Lolly. In five minutes or less.”
Lolly chuckled. “Oh my. Guess I better get started. Um, ‘ssee. My name’s Lola Cher Lunden…that’s ‘Lunden’ with a ‘u’ and an ‘e,’ not the capital of England…I’m 21, my birthday’s the day before Halloween…ummm, my parents and I moved here just like a month and a half ago from Virginia. Alexandria, to be exact. It was nice, just…a little on the warm side for me. I kinda like cold weather better.”
“Well, ya came to the right part of America for that.”
“Hee hee…um, let’s see now…how much time do I have left?”
“Ha! Eh, about four minutes and thirty seconds. But I was very much not bein’ serious.”
“Well, why don’t we pause my clock for now, I’ll dig into my nice li’l ol’ bear claw, and maybe you tell me about Sunny?”
“Mm!” Sunny approved through a mouthful of doughnut. She concluded chewing, and swallowed. “Aces.
“A’right, well, last name’s Saunders, middle’s Ivy. ‘S another reason I like Sunny better than Morgan. I go by Morgan, my initials’re M.I.S. Sunny, it’s S.I.S. And I’d rather be a ‘SIS’ than a ‘MIS.’ And I am, by the by; got a big brother. Davey. Five years older.”
Lola swallowed half her big bite. “Oh, neato!” she assessed.
“Neato”? ‘Nother nice one, Lola…you dork, she thought, continuing to berate herself. Sunny, for her part, thought little to nothing of it. Thus far, she enjoyed Lola’s company just as was. Being straight, she’d no designs upon Lolly beyond friendship. But if Lola flirted with her, Sunny wouldn’t mind so much. She hadn’t even qualms about flirting back. She just couldn’t allow it past a certain point.