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Subject: lesbian short story by Ann Marie Green


Author:
Anonymous
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Date Posted: 03:02:56 02/02/13 Sat

This is going to be a short but long story. My girlfriend and I, I'm Damiana, she's Samantha Rhodesia...I'm having a tough time here. I was supposed to be her girlfriend and she mine. I turned over every stone in Manhatten to find her. And now she has cheated on me.

The story isn't new but the exploit is. Depends upon what you mean the word exploit to be or is...

Samantha's exploit was sleeping with a fem male. In doing so I became the one exploited. A lesbian shamed by her lover in the worst.

What is a fem male, you ask? A male who is taller than me, at five nine, but with hands the same size as mine. It was just 'that way' with her - I mean him - when I first met the fem male. I saw the fem male as female. Just another work collegue of my love. The fem male was nice enough. I then notice she needed a shave!

From across the bar my lover texted me. She told me who she was with, a friend from work. I saw their hands next to eacheother. From a distance my assumption was butch enough.

I then got up and walked over to them. A fem male. He needed to shave a little closer. Five foot eleven and about a hundred-and-fifty-five-pounds. English accent and claiming to be male.

Weeks went by as the cliche goes. She wasn't just distant she was pushing me away. I tried to kiss her one evening and with shoulder first, moved past me. I decided right there and then to get a nanny-cam.

Two weeks went by and then a Sunday afternoon it all happened. I was conspicuously gone on Sunday afternoon with a class at the Annex. I was taking a couple of classes. On Sunday it was origami; and, on Wednesday it was flower arranging. I'm talking at end. Nervous.

The clock timer on the camera said one-thirty-nine when they started kissing. I waited a couple of hours before I watched the whole event. Sitting down with a cold glass of chardonnay I pushed the tape into the player.

There they are making-out. Five minuites felt fifteen. Kissing eachother, groping eachother. After about ten minutes he went up her shirt. Then another five minutes went by and Samantha took off his shirt.

I took a drink I knew that it was over. We had our assets in common. A New Jersey wedding, whatever that's worth. I reached over to call our, I mean, my lawyer. He then took her shirt off.

Why was I surprised? I thought her move was to keep her next one at bay.

Around two-o'clock they went to the next phase. The next move. I should'nt feel like I'm Joycean; because everthing I say here was taken from a transcribed affidavit.

(continued on Write What You Want)

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