Lesbian Pulp Fiction. Katherine V. Forrest
made a play for me. She—”
“Watch your mouth! Lots of girls get crushes on each other, but that doesn’t make them gay.”
“Gay? What’s gay?”
“Oh, skip it. Peggy, I simply can’t mention names. I refuse to discuss Mike or anybody else.” Beth gazed down at Peggy, huddled at her feet. Suddenly the nurse kneeled, lifted the girl’s chin with a finger, forcing Peggy to look at her. In a kindlier tone, she said, “You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’ve been afraid all this time.”
Beth’s voice was calm now, natural, not insinuating. “You’re afraid of this girl who violated you—and you’re afraid of yourself.”
Peggy’s eyes flashed to the nurse.
“You’re afraid that you liked it too much,” Beth said.
“Yes!” In that instant a tumult of confusion rushed over Peggy. She wanted to throw herself into those compassionate arms and cry on the golden shoulder as she had not done since she was a child; she wanted to unburden herself as never before. “Beth, whether I’m afraid or not, I’ve got to know. I’ve got to discover what I am.”
“You’re a nice, perfectly healthy girl. You have nothing to worry about.” The nurse edged nearer. One hand fell to Peggy’s arm. “All right, so you had an episode with a woman. But it meant nothing. Happens every day. Often young girls like you come into bodily contact with other girls, feel some sort of physical sensation, and immediately begin to have doubts about themselves. They are afraid of their reactions—and ashamed—but that doesn’t make them one of my kind—”
“Your kind?”
“That’s right. I’m a genuine lesbian, truly twisted, and I know it.”
“But what if I am, too?” Peggy said, thinking of her aversion to the male sex. “How am I to find out?”
For an instant she was sure she saw a different expression in Beth’s eyes. The kind of expression Ted used to get when Peggy would pull away from him in order to take off her clothes.
But Beth had control of herself again. She smiled, and tried to answer Peggy’s question. “You’ll find out in time. Try not to let it bother you now. You’re much too young to become enmeshed in this sort of thing—no matter what you are.”
“Beth, I’ve got to know.” And with more resolution than she would have thought possible, Peggy said, “I want you to kiss me.”
The nurse looked away. “No.”
Peggy scrambled to her knees. “Please, Beth,” she pleaded. “You mean so much to me. Help me.”
“Peggy, I—”
Peggy lifted her face. “Please.” She moved a little closer. Her mouth was almost touching Beth’s.
With a cry that was like a sob, Beth clutched Peggy to her. Beth’s lips, soft and warm, touched Peggy’s.
At last they broke away. Peggy’s heart was pounding. Fever seemed to have possessed her blood. Strange hot prickles assailed her nerves. She looked at Beth—soft and warm and alluring. The nurse was not in uniform now, but in blue stretch slacks donned against the rain and damp. Her womanly hips were faithfully outlined. Her breasts strained against the blue of the button-down man’s oxford shirt she wore. Her hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders. How beautiful, thought Peggy. How utterly beautiful. She put an arm around the nurse’s waist.
“Oh, Beth—”
“No, Peggy, no more.” She started to rise, but the younger girl, stronger, held her down.
Peggy said once again, “I have to know.”
“You don’t make love to find something out, Peggy.”
The girl tossed her head, yellow ponytail flicking like a banner. “I’m not attractive to you? You don’t want me?”
“Want has little to do with it.”
Peggy forced Beth’s hand to touch her full young breast. “Tell me you want me.”
“Don’t do this to us,” Beth begged. “Don’t do it to yourself.”
“I have to know,” Peggy insisted.
“God help us,” moaned Beth. Her arms went around Peggy.
The two fell back upon the soft, damp grass, their eager lips clinging. For the first time Peggy knew the sensation of another woman’s tongue darting and circling against her own. So acute was the thrill that her bones seemed to turn to water.
Then Beth came up for air. Pulling away, she slowly opened Peggy’s simple camp blouse. Loosening the bra, she exclaimed with delight as Peggy’s breasts tumbled forth. At first Beth was gentle as she kissed and fondled the trembling, youthful bosom. Peggy’s heart jumped as the woman’s lips touched each rosy nipple, hands stroking all the while, searching sweetly, trailing fire from the fingertips.
For a while Peggy lay still, basking in every touch, every tender kiss, every deliberately inciting stroke. But as Beth’s hands and lips roamed, Peggy began to writhe on the ground. She burrowed closer to the older woman, sent her hand up under the oxford shirt. When her hand touched the soft roundness of Beth’s quivering breasts, a glorious burst of white-hot bliss lashed Peggy’s body. With reckless lust she loosened Beth’s slacks, touched the nylon beneath. At the same time she felt Beth’s clever fingers at her shorts. The fingers cunningly slid and stroked. “Oh, sweet Beth,” groaned Peggy.
No longer could she concentrate on every touch and kiss. Her whole being seemed engulfed by wave upon wave of fiery pleasure. Then, in a burst of purest ecstasy, she crested. The whole world seemed to explode inside of her. Slowly Peggy drifted down to earth. For long minutes she lay quietly, her head on Beth’s lap, a hand still on Beth’s bare breast.
A sense of utter peace, of profoundest fulfillment, possessed Peggy.
“We’d better pull ourselves together,” Beth said softly. “We have to be on our way. They’ll be wondering what happened to us.”
Peggy sat up, buttoned her blouse, then followed Beth across the bridge. In the station wagon, they both repaired faces and hair.
As the car rolled onto the road, Peggy slouched against the door, wishing she could cuddle against Beth.
Neither spoke during the ride back to camp. Skillfully Beth swung into the parking lot, cut the motor. She turned toward Peggy and was about to say something when she saw Miss Duncan approaching.
The older woman told them that the most recent weather forecast had reported an end to local thundershowers. The staff had decided to chance a swimming session so the hikers could rinse off some sweat.
“You join them, Peggy. I think you deserve a refresher. We can take care of these things later.”
Peggy thanked the director, then sat unmoving, hoping for a chance to be alone with Beth. But one glance at Miss Duncan told her that she was excused.
To Beth, she murmured, “See you later.” Then Peggy left the two women.
Life took on a whole new color for Peggy. During the following twenty-four hours, her mind was filled with visions of Beth—sweet, kind Beth, lovely Beth with her fragrant brown hair and dark-blue eyes and gentle hands. No longer did she fear or reject lesbian love. How could anything so good, Peggy argued, not be right? At least for Beth and herself.
Now that she was not obsessed with doubts about herself and about the lesbian existence, she was free to enjoy all the more her wonderful relationship with Beth. The prospect intoxicated Peggy. She did not weigh consequences.
She looked forward with deep