= SARAH POV =
I woke up in the softest sheets I had ever felt. The fabric brushed against my skin like silk, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the comfort.
I absolutely crushed it tonight! I finally got her to sleep with me! I thought victoriously to myself. Now I can ask her to do it again, when I'm sober, so that she can share some teaching points about how I can do this with other women as well!
The thought sent a thrill through my chest and down my spine.
I stretched, pulling the sheets back and slipping onto the cool wooden floor. My bare feet tingled against the polished surface, grounding me just enough to steady the rush of excitement.
I couldn't quite remember the details of last night. Everything was hazy thanks to the wine, but I distinctly recalled feeling Chris on top of me at some point. That had to mean something right?
I walked out of the guest room, running my hands through my messy brown curls, trying to smooth them down. Chris's apartment was familiar and kind of calming. I'd slept over more times than I could count.
"Chris? Darling?" I called out, my voice echoing slightly in the quiet apartment. My eyes swept over the furniture, searching for her, but instead, they landed on a post-it note stuck to the bar table; that was her spot for leaving notes and little reminders if she had to leave early or didn't want to wake me.
I crossed the room quickly, snatching up the note. My heart thudded as I read it:
"Went over to Jenny's. Don't worry, I didn't do anything weird to you last night, though I think you should take it easy today. Also, I threw away the weird contract. You can stay as long as you need, free of charge.
– Chris"
I froze. My eyes scanned the note again and again, my brain struggling to process it.
"What? No!!" The words escaped me in a panicked gasp. My stomach dropped. So she was hovering over me last night…
What I thought had hoped had been a passionate make out session leading to more…
Was just her tucking me into bed? Just another example of her treating me like… a friend? Like usual?
I groaned.
Why was it so easy to get men to sleep with me, but so hard to get them to stay, while it was so easy to get women to stay, but so hard to get them to sleep with me?!
I crumpled the note and tore it up in frustration, bits of paper fluttering to the floor. My fingers clenched as I paced the length of the living room. How could she be this oblivious? Or did I need to be more direct?
I ran my hands through my hair. My life was balancing on a thin wire, and I had real problems at hand; like settling my living arrangement, but every time I was in Chris' orbit, I felt like there was something I was missing out on, and her eyes held the answer, but I didn't know why.
I returned to the guestroom and I opened my suitcase, rummaging around for a cardigan.
The truth gnawed at me; I'd lied last night. I didn't need to move out immediately as I already had an apartment lined up. In fact, I probably should head over there to clean up before the agent charges me an arm and a leg for the mess the party had left behind. But that wasn't the point.
The whole drunken contract thing had felt brilliant at the time. I mean, maybe it was still brilliant? It was my way of opening a door, of creating a situation where Chris could finally see me as something more than a friend. Like…friends with benefits?
As I pulled a soft pink cardigan over my frame and gathered some toiletries, I padded over to the bathroom down the hall, intending to shower for the day, and then head out once I was ready.
I hung up the cardigan and stripped down to nothing, reflecting on previous conversations I had had with others about the push and pull I had in my relationship with Chris.
I often spoke indirectly about her, sometimes saying she was a new boyfriend I was testing the waters with, other times an ex I couldn't let go of, however the consensus had been that I should let go and move on, but I couldn't.
So when I posed Chris off as a friend I couldn't be friends with, George, the one who had been forced to listen to me that day, asked me if maybe, just maybe, I should try girls for a change, because clearly I had very terrible luck with men.
I remember turning bright red and explaining to him that I had never had the opportunity, and he had literally laughed and said "Why not? You used to be roommates with Chris right?"
It was a known fact that Chris was a player. She was in every attractive girl's books, every attractive girl's pants, and still managed to be at the top of her class during her time at college.
Some called her slurs, others called her experienced, but I called her…hot.
There was something so intense about her, that I could never be mad that she was always in high demand - who wouldn't be with a body like a greek god and a face card like that? The woman worked out for fun, and those abs…
I had told George it would never work out. I had indeed roomed with her in college, and nothing had ever come out of it. What made him think she would just… jump at the opportunity to sleep with me, when she never once made a move?
George had then told me about how his boss was paying him to pretend to be his boyfriend, and he said sometimes the message just needed to be a bit more… direct. Especially since I just wanted to gain experience, so that I could break into a different market.
And that was when an idea had stuck; a contract!
At the time George and I had laughed about it, toyed with it, even written out that stupid paper with the "Three Cs" on it…and then forgot about it.
And now, weeks later, in my drunken haze, that contract came back to mind. A part of me thought it would be cute, romantic even.
I mean if I was to have my first little lesbian escapade, who better than with Chris, my best friend, who also happened to be the hottest lesbian in town? I mean that was based on what other people said of course.
It's not like I wanted eternity, I just wanted to know what to do when I wanted to get laid by a woman. And then learn how to get other women to lie under me…or on top of me…more than once.
I mean it wasn't even like I was great at it with men, so who knows, maybe this might come full circle one day, if things didn't work out with women as well.
After I finished my bath I dried off and wrapped myself with a towel. I carried my cardigan and toiletries back to the guestroom and dried off my hair with the hair drying at the dressing table.
Every action felt so nostalgic. A part of me wondered…what would it be like if I just took her up on her offer? I could save rent and…
No.
I still had my current boyfriend to think of. It would be way too complicated, and I probably needed to bring him up to her at some point as well…
…and then there was the matter of my first love, who I had yet to find…
I sighed and shrugged to myself in the mirror, it wasn't like it would matter anyway. Boys came and went out of my life like rain on a windshield. Eventually the windshield wipers turned on, and they all got swept away.
As long as I had Chris, everything would be ok.
Chris didn't need to know about every old heartbreak, or new mistake. Like I didn't ask her about every old flame or new fling.
I picked up a hair brush and started brushing out my hair. All I needed her to know was that I still needed her. And if this plan worked, maybe the rotation of men would start to include a rotation of women as well.
***
Once I was dressed in a cream coloured body con dress with cap sleeves, I clasped on a black belt to cinch my waist. I gently curled my hair into soft waves, and then selected a pair of black heels and a little black purse as I headed out of my room to grab some breakfast before I headed out.
As I poured myself some orange juice from the fridge, a new determination settled in my chest.
Maybe the plan wasn't dead yet. If I pushed a little harder, if I kept this going, she'd eventually just give in for the fun of it. I knew her, she loved this sort of stuff. And when had she ever refused me anything?
And I'm sure she'd understand. I'd explain it all to her; my nerves, my insecurity about approaching women, how I just…don't know where to start…
But seeing as I didn't even know where to start this conversation with Chris, the contract would be a great conversation starter, a way to talk about it, without directly talking about it. I just needed to convince her to sign the contract while we were both sober this time. Maybe then she'd get it! I mean she didn't sound particularly mad in the note, just…confused.
I took a long sip of juice, savoring the cold sweetness. This could still work. Once Chris realized what the contract really meant, it would become the kind of adorable story we could laugh about with our kids someday.
I mean not kids with Chris… separate families and, separate kids…unless she wanted to…
I shook my head, I needed to focus. That thought was giving me a headache.
Running a hand through my hair, I looked at myself in the reflection of Chris' kitchen cabinets; I wasn't bad looking, and although I didn't work out, I was fit enough for my age.
Besides, this plan had to work. I mean why wouldn't it work? Chris was a girl. She'd get me sooner than those dense guys that date all the time. Right?
All I needed was to get over my initial fear of the unknown, and then everything would open up to me, just as it did with boys. Women were softer and kinder, but also more fragile and easy to hurt.
Chris would teach me how to make them feel good and how she managed to always end things on good terms with everyone.
I mentally patted myself on the back as I rinsed the cup in the sink, already convinced that this plan was an excellent plan, so much so that I started to think that I should probably plan out what to wear on the first night of our first erotic dalliance.
Perhaps I hadn't planned on actually going through with this hair-brain scheme from the start, but now that it was underway…
… it felt like a shame to let this opportunity go to waste!
I mean it wasn't even like it would be the first time Chris had taught me something sexual. I mean she was the one who taught me how to masturbate, so how much harder was it to teach me how two women made each other feel good together? And she'd get a kick out of it too…right?
She was the bestest, most reliable and trustworthy person to do that, not to mention experienced.
It just made sense, and maybe, after her… I'd finally break out of this cycle of messy relationships, and maybe with a woman, have something more stable, because who better to understand the needs of a woman, than a woman… right?