My Writing Professor: A Lesbian Romance Page 6

  “Come on!” said Minju, blowing some steam off the top of her coffee mug before gingerly taking a sip. “My pal Penny asks me for advice, of course I’m going to help.”

  “Thanks,” I said softly. “I really appreciate it.”

  “Have you been here working?” she asked, looking down at my things spread across the table. “Wait, do you have a job or are you just here for school?”

  “I don’t have a job,” I admitted. “I try to keep that a secret, though, because I don’t want people to have any… you know, perceptions about me.”

  “Lucky!” she said. “I won’t let your secret out, Penny,” said Minju. “I’m a little jealous of your life after hearing that, but I’ll lock it inside.” With that, Minju pretended to lock her lips closed.

  “That’s good,” I said. “Because I have something else to talk to you about that you absolutely can’t say to anyone else.”

  “Not even my husband?” she said. “I mean, because I tell him everything!”

  “Well, I don’t imagine him knowing will be of any consequence,” I said. “Sure.”

  “Yay!” said Minju, shaking her fists a bit in excitement. “Okay, I’m ready Penny. I’m all ears.”

  “So first,” I said. “I don’t know if you knew this or not, I mean, I don’t know if you could tell from my stories, but I’m a lesbian.”

  “Sure,” said Minju like my sexuality was nothing surprising. “Yeah, I didn’t know know but I kinda thought that. I’m cool with it,” she said with a smile. “Is that what this is all about?” she said quizzically with a shrug, like it was no big deal, like I was crazy for thinking that this kind of thing warranted an ‘official’ talk.

  “No,” I said. “No, it’s more than that. And look, just please, keep this between us and don’t mention it around school.”

  “Yeah, of course,” she said, getting more serious now but obviously quite eager for me to get to the point.

  “I’m sorta, um, seeing Harriet,” I said finally.

  “What!” exclaimed Minju, rocking back in her chair and bumping the table. “You’re kidding me!”

  “No,” I said quietly.

  “That’s amazing!” she called out, letting the rest of the cafe know of her excitement for me. “Penny, that’s a hugely serious boost to your writing career.”

  “Okay,” I said, albeit slightly confused.

  “No, really,” she said. “You can totally lean on her to get you an agent, get your stuff in literary journals, maybe even get a book deal!”

  “Yeah,” I said, looking away with skepticism. “But see, I’m not really too concerned about all that right now.”

  “So what’s the problem?” asked Minju.

  “Well, I actually really do like Harriet,” I said. “And now she’s telling me that she might be moving back to New York after this semester.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Minju.

  “And she’s sort of been hinting, even at this early stage of our relationship,” I said. “That I should, um, consider New York for myself.”

  “Really?” said Minju. “Oh, wow.”

  “It’s just… fast, you know?” I said.

  “Right,” said Minju. “Well, look, here’s the way I see it… why the fuck not?”

  “Hmm,” I mused.

  “You’re young,” she said. “You don’t have many ties to Chicago, you’re not from here or anything.”

  “Yeah, but school,” I said. “I mean, I’m enrolled in graduate school, remember? My MFA?”

  “Are you kidding me?” said Minju like I was insane. “What’s better? An MFA degree or a relationship with a National Book Award nominee who’s practically inviting you out to New York with her?”

  “Well,” I said, looking down into my half full coffee cup. “When you put it that way…”

  “My advice, Penny,” said Minju, leveling with me. “Is to just not deny any kind of serendipity that comes your way. It’s easy to stay on the path you’ve outlined for yourself and not deviate from it. It’s predictable. But sometimes things happen for a reason and you can’t ignore them, you can’t let opportunity just pass you by because you didn’t consider it a possibility when you were trying to write your own future.”

  “That’s pretty deep,” I said.

  “Thank you!” said Minju, grinning and bowing her head. “I mean, you like Harriet right?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “So roll with it!” said Minju. “Stop worrying and learn to love the ride.”

  “So you’re saying that if it works out over the next couple of months,” I began, trying to summarize. “I should just drop out of the grad program and move to New York City?”

  “No,” said Minju. “I’m not saying you should do that. You definitely could. I’m saying don’t deny it for silly reasons.” She grinned. “If it were me, I’d definitely go though. New York is amazing.”

  “This conversation… sorta helped,” I said, still feeling slightly confused but able to see Minju’s point.

  “Good,” she said, scooting her chair out and standing up. “Talk to Harriet about it and think hard,” said Minju, taking her bag from the back of the chair. “I’ve got to head home to my husband and get dinner started. See you next week in class?”

  “Yeah,” I said absentmindedly, beginning to really consider the possibilities.

  “Life is fun,” said Minju. “When you stop taking everything so seriously, stuff really opens up for you.” She grinned at me, offered a little wave, and then turned and made her way toward the door of the cafe. I felt like I’d just been hit like a truck. Up until that point, I’d really taken almost everything in life so seriously… too seriously. Minju was right. Rather than dwell on all this and treat everything like it had some sort of large and complex meaning, I could instead just take my hands off the wheel for a bit and see what might happen.

  I didn’t like driving very much anyhow.

  *

  After my and Minju’s conversation, I made a concerted effort to take things a little more casually, accept life as it may come. Definitely easier said than done, but just the exercise of trying made things a little bit easier. I felt a little less guarded around Harriet, a little less concerned, and more excited for the possibility of what may happen between us, placing no particular expectation on it and instead just trying to appreciate the ride.

  And it was very easy to do that with Harriet when we were together in her bed.

  I pushed my hand through my messy hair and took a deep, hot breath. Sitting there on my knees, naked, with Harriet laid back on her bed and writhing into the sheets, I looked down at her nude body and appreciated her beauty. Harriet was slim, though she had a cute little pot belly that grew and shrank with her labored breaths as I methodically pumped a curvy silicone toy in and out of her. I had already had my turn with the very same toy and I could feel my pussy still softly contracting and spasming from my own previous orgasm, a bit of creamy wetness still oozing out of me.

  Harriet reached her hands up and adjusted her long blonde hair, holding it up in a lazy ponytail as her eyes focused on my penetrations between her thighs. She was panting with her mouth open, little sighs exiting her lips with each push. After a moment of watching me, Harriet looked up and our eyes met. We held our gaze of serious lust for a moment before I cracked a smile and she caught its infectiousness, grinning happily with a lovestruck look on her face. Her breasts wobbled as her body shook with my thrusts, her back propped up against the pillows.

  “That feels really nice, Pen,” said Harriet, her eyes looking back down to watch the movements of my hand. “Oh God,” she moaned, her neck going limp for a moment, head tilting back.

  As one of my hands penetrated her with that purple silicone totem, I rested my other hand atop her mound. Harriet kept her fur shorn short and I could feel the little prickles of it against my palm. Reaching my thumb out, I lovingly started massaging her clit in slow concentric circles, attempting to coordinate my fondling
with the speed of the toy’s movements. As soon as I touched her clit, Harriet whined happily. The pleasure she felt was obvious on her face and although she reflexively kept squinting her eyes closed, she was eager to watch and continued to force her lids open.

  I wanted so badly to make her happy and please her. Just as when I submitted a story to workshop, considering what Harriet might think when reading it, trying to make little tweaks here and there that I thought she might enjoy, I did the same when servicing her sexually. I watched her reactions and adjusted my motions accordingly, slowing or quickening my pace in kind, remembering where she liked to be touched. Leaning my head down, I lightly kissed her on the stomach, which was something I knew she really liked. As I did this, Harriet absentmindedly ran her fingers through my hair, her butt wiggled against the bed below her.

  Harriet had this little skin wrinkle just below her stomach and just above her fur, this slight fold that became more apparent when she tightened her middle from a particularly pleasurable feeling. It drove me crazy. Her skin was different than I was used to in a lover. I couldn’t quite explain it. I knew it was because of her age. It wasn’t that it was weathered or less elastic or anything — well, it was slightly — but it was just a little more inviting and comfortable. She had various light freckles on her shoulders and back. The skin above her breasts grew redder as our lustiness became more intense. I was just entranced by these subtle differences in our bodies. That’s all I knew.

  “Oh Penny,” she cooed, her face falling to one side, cheek against the pillows. Her pussy was soaked from her arousal, leaving little white viscid beads of her wetness on the purple toy as I pulled it from her depths. The silicon knob easily parted her lips and slipped into her, her legs spread wide and eager to accept my manual stimulation. “Mmm, right there.”

  I focused my attentions on her clit now, my thumb wetly rubbing over it, pushing through the folds of her lips, feeling all of her crevices and warm flesh. Harriet was groaning now, murmuring positive appraisals under her breath, wriggling her legs into the blanket, close to kicking it off the bed with her feet. Happiness was plastered across her face, sporadically punctuated with seriousness when a particularly pleasurable energy traversed through her body. I could tell she was loving it and dangerously close to orgasm.

  During that moment I thought hard about the potentiality for the two of us. I got so much happiness out of making her happy and I knew she felt the same way. Although what we had together was definitely new and definitely precarious, as all young relationships can be, there was most certainly something special about it that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  “Mm hmm,” moaned Harriet. “Mm hmm, mm hmm!” Her body was beginning to convulse, trying to scrunch up into itself, and her hands jolted down between her legs to stop my hand from thrusting the toy into her. Her pussy clenched onto the toy tightly and she lifted her butt up off the bed, mouth dropping open, a long and low moan oozing out of it followed by a quiet string of expletives.

  I watched happily as Harriet’s limbs quivered and shook, her movements appearing automatic and uncontrolled. I pulled back from her and let her go, resting a single palm on her thigh to calm her slightly, while she held herself by her middle. The purple silicone toy slowly slid out of her wetness and then flopped down onto the bed as she rocked. The redness atop her chest grew brighter and her face too flushed red. Harriet was obviously, in that moment, entrenched in ecstasy.

  After a few more movements of juddering, Harriet turned her head and opened her eyes, looking up to me and offering a deeply relaxed, profoundly content smile. I could see just the slightest hint of sweat accumulated at her brow line, her blonde hair a bit damp, matted on her head, little frizzes sticking up. Raising a single finger up, Harriet adjusted a tendril of hair out of her sight and blew me a kiss.

  “Oh Penny,” she reflected, shaking her head adoringly at me. “That was wonderful.”

  “I’m sorry if I’m not as good as you are,” I mused, looking off. I felt a little bit self-conscious about it all, despite the fact that I had brought her to completion, because I knew she was far more experienced and capable than me.

  “Don’t be silly,” said Harriet, lazily reaching for me, her hand finally settling onto my knee and giving it a light squeeze. “You know what you’re doing down there.”

  “I mostly just practice at home,” I joked. Harriet laughed.

  “Will you come lay with me?” asked Harriet longingly, her fingers kneading into my knee.

  “Yes,” I said, slipping my legs out from underneath myself and laying next to Harriet. I cuddled up close to her, tossing an arm around her belly and tightening up against her side. Harriet wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me nearer. I sighed happily as I felt the warmth coming from her body.

  “I think we make a good pair,” said Harriet, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She kissed the side of my head, her lips pressing into my hair, and I could feel just a hint of wetness as she pulled her mouth back.

  “I like being with you,” I admitted. “I like making you happy.”

  “I’ll take it,” said Harriet with a youthful goofiness.

  I tangled my leg between Harriet’s and snuggled up closer against her, sighing contentedly. I could feel her dampness on my inner thigh as we touched. It was immensely comforting to be this close with her.

  *

  After our lovemaking session, which happened not soon after I’d arrived at Harriet’s condo that evening, I sat crosslegged out on her couch wearing just my panties and one of her tank tops. With a cup of tea in one hand, I thumbed through a short story collection on my lap with the other, slowly turning the pages as I skimmed. I didn’t really pay attention to the words I was reading, I was just moving through the book, reading random sentences.

  The light in the condo was low and comfortable and orange, punctuated by moonlight creeping in through the picture window in Harriet’s living room. I felt at home there, like I was meant to be, like I belonged. It wasn’t often that I allowed myself to just simply exist in the moment, to be happy for whatever was currently happening to me, but as I sat there in silence on Harriet’s couch, sipping my tea, I felt like time was standing still and it was exactly where I wanted to be.

  And then Harriet walked in from the kitchen with a smile etched on her lips. She held her own mug of tea in one hand and a small bamboo cutting board with cheese and nuts on it in the other.

  “Snack?” she said as she put the cutting board down on the coffee table in front of the couch. I couldn’t help but look her up and down and revel in how pretty I found her. Harriet wore a pair of light grey cotton short shorts with the elastic band folded over once, showing off her pale thighs and long lissome legs. She had on a black tank without a bra and as she bent over to set the snack plate down I caught just the slightest glimpse of her breasts through the neck of her top.

  “Sure,” I said, folding the book closed and setting it to my side. I leaned over and took a small piece of cheese from the board.

  “Mmm,” sighed Harriet, sitting down next to me, our bare legs touching. “I still feel tender from earlier. Maybe we can go for another round later?” she said, raising an eyebrow at me and beaming. I smiled back at her as our eyes locked, something inside of me bonding me to her as we connected. I wish I could explain it better. My heart just felt so close to her.

  “I’d like that,” I said.

  “I don’t want to waste any time with you before my trip out to New York next week,” said Harriet, breaking a piece of cheese off of larger slice and popping it into her mouth.

  “I was thinking about that,” I said, setting my mug down on a coaster and then leaning back against the couch. I was uncertain how I wanted to address the topic, even though I’d been going over it in my mind, playing out the scenario, trying to figure out exactly what I wanted to say.

  “What topic?” asked Harriet. “My trip to New York for the reading?”

  “Yeah,” I
said. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about some of the stuff you’ve said to me about New York.”

  “Is that so?” said Harriet with a look of surprise. She brought her tea to her lips and lightly sipped from me, blocking her mouth as though she were giving me the floor to speak.

  “I was wondering if maybe I could come with you on this trip,” I said, feigning casualness. I wanted to pretend like it wasn’t a big deal or anything, that I’d just sort of tag along for fun, but to me it definitely felt like a big deal. I could feel my heart thumping for what seemed like an eternity as I awaited Harriet’s next words. I wasn’t sure what to expect.

  “Oh really?” said Harriet, stifling a grin, obviously excited but trying to hide it just to screw with me a little. “You want to come on a whirlwind writer adventure to the Big Apple? Meet some other famous writers? See what it’s like backstage at a reading for the National Book Awards?”

  “I mean, yeah,” I said. Harriet laughed at me and touched my knee.

  “I would love to have you along,” said Harriet. “It sounds like an awesome adventure we could have together. I want to know what it’s like backstage at such a big deal reading too!”

  “What do you think it’s like?” I asked.

  “Truthfully?” said Harriet. “Probably not very exciting. But I tell you what is exciting… that list of nominees. It’s crazy!”

  “It’s intimidating,” I said.

  “You don’t think I can win?” said Harriet smirking.

  “Of course I think you can win,” I said. “But, well, it’s going to be tough.”

  “It’s out of my hands,” said Harriet with a cool calmness. “I imagine they already know who’s going to win. It’s all political anyway.”

  “Didn’t you say your publisher was going to really push for you?” I said.

  “Mm hmm,” she said. “That’s what they said.”

  “So…” I said, smiling, trailing off.

  “Stop,” said Harriet with an embarrassed but excited look on her face. “We can’t talk about any of that anymore. I don’t want to jinx anything.”