Why It’s Wrong to Love You-Sapphic Romance Story

“Just tell me why the fuck it’s wrong to love you. Can you tell me that? Can you tell me, Lisa?”

“Oh stop being dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic. That’s what you just said. You said that I am not supposed to love you!”

“Sara, I said you don’t have to show it. Fuck. I have two strikes against me already. I’m black and I’m a woman. Do you really think I want this third strike?”

“What are you talking about? Are you telling me that loving you is somehow a ‘strike’ against you? So what if you’re a black woman, who cares?”

“I’m saying things are complicated. Who cares I’m a black woman? Oh for the love of god get real. You are so naive.”

“So, it’s that easy. You’re just going to be ruled by what other people want, by what other people want you to be? That’s what you want Lisa, is it?”

“You don’t know what it’s like, and you do NOT know what I want.”

“Oh…oh…really? I don’t? Oh, like I don’t know what it’s like to go to school in this fucking small town and wonder every day if someone can tell that when I look at you I melt inside? I don’t know what you want? Oh, okay. Fuck you Lisa, okay. Fuck you.”

“What did you expect, that we’d just settle down and get a nice house with a little white picket fence?”

There was a long silence. The cramped upstairs bedroom of the farmhouse was warm in the late light of summer, and the sound of movement downstairs made us both pause.

“Shhh…I think my parents might be coming up. God, I can’t wait till I’m in my new apartment.”

The stairs creaked, and Lisa cocked her head to the side and listened. I watched as she tilted towards the light, bringing out the subtle highlights of her hair. Her soft afro lit up like a red hued halo around her as the sun started to go down, and I found myself breathing deep and trying to remember every little detail of the light. I knew it was only a matter of time before it was all going to be memories, and unfortunately bitter ones.

A knock disrupted us, and then an ill looking old woman opened the door.

“Are you stayin’ for supper, Sara?”

A look was quickly exchanged between us, but no conclusion seemed to be reached.

“I…I guess I…”

I didn’t know what to do. so I just pushed the dark hair out of my eyes and hoped I didn’t look upset.

“She’ll be staying,” Lisa said with that horrid finality she had about everything.

The old woman grunted and looked at me as if she knew everything. When the door closed Lisa’s mouth pulled back in a sneer.

“Yes, you’ll have to stop drinking for a bit while company is here… you old bitch.”

“She looks sicker all the time.”

“Yeah, but she isn’t dead yet. She’s pickled herself. I guess enough Jim Beam will do that.”

I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for her growing up with that woman. The pale alcoholic redneck bitch wasn’t even her real mom, but then I guess she took comfort in that. Many times when things were bad she and I had spent time guessing what her real mother was like and why she’d given her up for adoption.

“Listen…”

“No, you listen. I’m serious. You are wonderful to fuck or rather to have fuck me, but you have to get it through your head girl. It isn’t going to last forever, and it has to be left in the bedroom. You don’t want to see what I’ll do if you try to out me, do you understand?”

“But…”

“Enough. You’re cute, but don’t piss me off.”

She smiled and I found myself quiet again. Everything hurt, but there was nothing I could do. I loved her, but apparently that wasn’t enough. I sat on her bed and then slouched against the wall. My whole body felt deflated.

“But…Lisa…it has been over a year.”

“And?”

“And..so I thought this meant something.”

“Oh, it did sweet cakes. It just didn’t mean what I guess you thought it did. I’m not becoming a lesbian for you.”

“You don’t become a lesbian. I hate to break it to you Lisa, but you just happen to be one…or I guess I was hallucinating all those nights?”

“Yeah, like I said it was fun.”

“So you’re moving in with that man?”

“You have a better idea? I’m tired of cleaning houses. I need to get out of this town.”

“Move in with me.”

She laughed, and I felt as if my guts were twisting inside.

“Why are you so cruel, Lisa?”

That is all I could manage. I couldn’t spit anything else out, although my mind was tumbling with thoughts and feelings that were so complicated that I didn’t even know where to begin. I wasn’t really sure that I loved her, but how do you ask a person to stay because you simply love the idea of who they are to you?

She sat down next to me and I leaned against her. Her solid muscular shoulder seemed stiff against my cheek, as if she wouldn’t relax.

“Please baby…just think about it.”

I turned my head to kiss the wonderful amaretto colored skin of her upper arm.

I kissed my way up her tender neck, and felt her flinch from ticklishness until I made my way to her mouth.

Her lips were large and soft, so soft that I couldn’t believe that anything on Earth could feel so inviting. I envied her mouth, and was fascinated by it. Many nights that I had laid in bed with her, my fingers had found her mouth and traced the beautiful contours of it until I couldn’t take it anymore and I had to press myself against her.

I brushed my lips against hers and breathed in her breath. I wanted her so bad that even the taste of the camel straights on her lips did nothing to deter me, it simply became the most erotic scent in the world because it was hers.

My hand touched her thigh and then traveled upwards, and I felt the change in texture as I went from her smooth jeans to her cotton T-shirt. I sought out her nipples with my fingers, being careful with them since I knew she was so sensitive.

She laughed, that deep throaty laugh that let me know she was getting wet. I could smell it on her, and as my other hand worked up her inner thigh and into her crotch I could feel the heat through the material.

“Dinner won’t be ready for awhile. Let me fuck you.”

I could never believe it when I started to talk like that, but she always brought it out of me. I wanted her so badly that I forgot myself. I forgot everything.

She laughed again, sometimes I just wanted to smack her when she laughed.

“Just don’t bite honey, you scare me when you bite.”

My teeth grazed over the flesh of her arm, but I only licked her skin tenderly.

“What are you afraid of?”

“You just bite hard.”

I mumbled that I was sorry, but I wasn’t. I wanted her flesh between my teeth, and wished to feel the muscle within my mouth as my tongue tasted her panic. I wanted to be brutal with her, to throw her down and take her. I wanted to make her love me, or at least to fuck her in a way that tore her apart so no one else could have her. She belonged to me, or at least I wanted her to so bad that the passion I felt for her was much like destruction.

My mouth was so gentle on her skin though, never once abrading that perfect flesh. I always listened to her, even though I didn’t want to. My thumb gently rolled around her nipple, and she sighed.

My head dropped to rest on her chest so that I could watch as it rose and fell with her breath. My hand went back to her crotch, pressing into it as she rocked her hips against the pressure.

“Baby, let me take my pants off.”

I backed off as she squirmed out of her jeans and threw them casually to the side. Her long dark legs seemed to go on forever, and the white satin and lace panties stood out in contrast to the black hair beneath. I lowered my head and pressed my face against her panties, smelling the rich deep scent of her. She had been sweating, so the material was wet with the salt of her and also musky with her flavor. Tiny tendrils of wet dark hair showed around the white triangle of the fabric. I lapped at her panties, feeling the structures beneath them although I was not able to see them. I’d never eaten her out, but I wanted to. I didn’t know what stopped me, perhaps it was the same thing that made her want to leave me. I just knew that the rage welled up inside me this time, and my hand grabbed the cotton crotch of the panties and pulled them down violently.

“Careful…”

Her voice had gone dreamy, and I became determined to hear her whimper. There was nothing I liked more than hearing her do that. The faces she made were wonderful, as if she was actually touching god when she came. Her eyes would shut tight and her brow would furrow, and then her mouth would open wide and those tiny little noises would come out of her. She had such a deep voice, and it was always a shock to hear her sound so small and vulnerable when she came. She’d gasp towards the end and try to catch her breath, while the whole time her thighs would tremble against my arm and my fingers would feel her try to suck me inside.

“Make me come good honey, I don’t want to waste my time.”

I fumed inside. I hated how selfish she was. It was always all about her. But then, I couldn’t stay mad. I wouldn’t have let her reciprocate, even if she had wanted to. I didn’t know why, but I never wanted her to go down on me. It panicked me. I didn’t want her to take me, I just wanted to have her. Perhaps that left me doomed to be with self centered women, since all others would get tired of my baggage.

I looked up at her. She sat there so smug, with her head resting against the wall and waited for me. If she wasn’t so beautiful, maybe I could have been mad at her.

Instead my gaze traveled down the perfect lines of her slim body. We were so very different. I was all softness and curves, but her body was hard with muscle and her breasts were small pert things that stood up and tightened at the slightest touch. My fingers reached up to cup one of them softly, and brush the skin in the way that made her get gooseflesh.

She sighed deep and contented, and I let my hand drop down to her flat belly. She had a line down the center of it where her muscles met, and I let it lead me to the warm damp hair at her crotch.

“Are you going to get on with fucking me, or do I have to make an appointment?”

My fingers dug into her thick pubic hair, sliding through the dampness and grabbing hold firmly. My other hand came up to do the same, parting the lips of her cunt wide. She let out a surprised sound and then struck me across the face with her hand. The place where her palm struck burned, and I smiled.

“You can’t hurt me, I like to be hurt.”

I continued to hold her open and put my face close.

“I want to see if he is inside you. I don’t want him on my fingers.”

“Don’t be like that Sara, it is none of your business. It’s my cunt.”

“Oh, it is.”

I stared at her crotch and studied it. Her thick outer lips normally curved and held her wrinkled inner lips cozy within them. I was stretching her open though, and her inner lips hung free. The light brown of her body gave way to a beautiful light pink as it crept closer to the opening revealing her inside. Pink tipped the very edges of her wrinkled asshole, and made me think of the cheap carnations that were sold in the local grocery store with the colored dyes outlining the ridges. I could see inside her a bit as her cunt flared open and then shut again, as if trying to force me inside. I saw a bit of his white fluids inside her, and thought about how he must have loved pushing his fat cock into her. Her pussy was always warm, wet, and slack. For a man with little interest in preparation, pussy wasn’t made any better.

“He came in you. I can see it.”

“Listen, fuck it or leave it girl. I’m all for your little tough lesbian thing, but I’m getting bored.”

I knew she wasn’t bored, her cunt was getting deeper pink and she was so wet that his come was in danger of easily sliding all the way out of her. I let go of her hair with one hand, and let my fingers trace her inner lips. They were soft and textured, and I tugged on them lightly since I knew that pulled on the skin surrounding her clit. The little pink shiny nub was starting to emerge from the dark flesh surrounding it, and I longed to put it in my mouth and suck on it but couldn’t do it. Instead I let my finger gently trace the skin around it, and then let my dry finger touch it maliciously. She leapt in pain. She couldn’t hack it being touched direct like that. I slid my fingers down and let them part her lips and then press into the easy wetness of her body.

“You let his cock do this today? You let it slide past these lips and up into you. I can feel it inside you. I can feel that fucking come of his, it has a different texture than you do. Did you come when he fucked you?”

“I didn’t have time.”

“I remember when you told me that being fucked and not getting off was a tragedy, and that you’d never stand for it.”

“That is just with you baby.”

“Thanks for saving something for me.”

I could tell she was getting angry, and somehow I liked it. I worked my fingers inside of her, twisting them in her cunt so that she would remain quiet and let me continue. I forced them in deep and twirled them round the knob of her cervix, exploring the indentions there and pressing and thrusting so she could feel the pressure inside. Then I slid my fingers out a bit and found the rough texture of her g-spot and gently bent my fingers as if I was stroking a cat gently under the neck. She whimpered and bit her lip in response, and I redoubled my efforts as I watched her twist a bit in place and start to pant. She was fucking my hand back now, thrusting against it and begging to feel more power behind my movements. I purposefully frustrated her, rocking along with her actions rather than letting her benefit from them. The walls of her cunt tightened on my fingers, and moved in response to my touch. I knew how to read her well by now, and I felt like her pussy and I were having a private conversation that even she was not fully aware of.

My other hand slid from the slick hair of her crotch down beneath the entrance of her cunt, and put pressure on the muscle there. I massaged her in rhythmic circular strokes, and smiled as her cunt seized on my hand and begged for more. Her mouth was hanging open just a bit now as she breathed harder, and her head was rolling from side to side.

I tilted my head to the side and looked beneath my hands to watch her asshole twitch. It puckered as her cunt tightened, and then would relax and soften into a slightly pinker opening that seemed to beg me to play with it. I would let my fingers get close as I pressed into the flesh around it, but I avoided touching it directly. I didn’t want her to come that fast.

It made me furious to think of some man’s blind cock simply poking around in her, not listening to what her cunt said back.

“Did he make you feel like this?”

“What?”

Hearing was always the first thing to go on her when she was about to come.

“His cock. Did it make you feel like this?”

My fingers slid inside her and opened a bit to let her feel the fullness and pressure against the side walls of her pussy as my damp thumb rubbed the sensitive hood around her clit. I knew that she’d have a hard time responding, and I wanted to see her struggle.

She started to answer but her words turned into a moan as soon as my thumb increased its pressure.

“No baby, he doesn’t feel like this.”

“I know he doesn’t.”

My hand ceased massaging her perineum and moved lower to softly brush the outside of her ass. I knew the light sensation would drive her over the top, and I smiled as I felt the soft flesh of her anus crinkle into a rougher texture as her wet crotch sucked on my hand. Her thighs tightened and shook as they pushed into the sides of my arms. I rode the waves of contractions inside her, and every time I felt them subside I would gently coax her to another tight wave of pleasure around my fingers. Her whole body seemed to undulate with the power of her orgasm, and I watched every moment of it in awe.

She was beautiful, perhaps she was never more beautiful than when this moment of bliss was upon her. The whole room smelled of her, and her noises seemed to be coming from some deep state within her that otherwise could only be heard in dreams. Watching her come was better than coming myself, it was like being part of a miracle. In fact it was better than that, because it was something that just belonged to me and that I could always give to her.

Her muscle contractions were changing, and I knew she needed me to stop and let her catch her breath. I let my fingers simply rest within her as I laid my head on top of her wet pubic hair and breathed her in.

“I’m done with you.”

She pronounced this even as she sighed happily and grasped my fingers once again. There was no remorse in her words, just a simple pronouncement of intent that sucked all the warmth from the room.

“I know,” I said.

Some things are not meant to last forever, and she and I certainly were not. There were moments of beauty amongst the bitterness though, and she could never take that from me. Those snapshots of joy remained with me, even as she callously slipped away from my fingers and made her way down to dinner without asking me to join her.