The seventh chapter, or just another story, this time about loving women, lusting for women and other fun stsuff, including a really funny story about 'skills'

by Rajkhet Dirzhud-Rashid
photo by Taylor Maxwell photography www.imaxwell.net
Model: Jacqueline Hyde

I guess it all started with me falling head over heels for my English teacher. A petite, shag wearing (hey, this was the seventies, okay?) dykey looking woman who wore pinstriped black pant suits and set my high school senior heart aflame. I actually worked up the courage to ‘proclaim’ my love for her one day (while my not so in-the-dark classmates whispered and giggled inside my classroom – me and teach talked outside in the hall). Got rejected, nicely of course, but rejected nonetheless. I went home, cried my eyes out, playing The Carpenters at max volume over and over again. My older brother, when I told him why I was crying said the immortal words: “you’re sick”. He was in college by then and trying to be all that, even to the point of having gotten branded (not tattooed, branded!) with the letters of the fraternity on his upper arm. My mom was horrified, but it was done and he was the man of the family, so no one hassled him after the first discovery of the brand.

After that experience and finally coming to terms with the fact that yes, I did like women ‘in that way’ (my mom said I’d be getting diseases and dating dancers when she found out), I proceed to have a tawdry affair with a 15 year old drug addict, who interestingly enough looked like my English teacher. Only she had long hair and a drug habit. From this I progressed to obsessing over the president of the Gay Lesbian Student Caucus on my college campus, but when ze beeg date came, I froze, not sure what to do once she was laying in my bed, dressed only in her white bra and panties. She left, thinking I didn’t really like her.

My first real experience came a little later, when I met this woman who looked like Marilyn Monroe (or I thought so), who, like me was a volunteer at the community radio station. We kissed in the lounge area outside the dj booth and felt each other up for about half an hour. And later, when I was walking hand in hand with her from the store one night, I learned something else. A male friend, gay and walking with us to keep us safe from what was a ‘little crusade’ by Houston’s cops against ‘homos’, slapped my hand from hers. I was shocked, but he gently told me this was against the law here and that we’d be harassed if we were seen by the wrong folks. So, I kept my more outward displays secret, but still the little fire my teacher had started continued to burn.

I fell for a neighbor, this Titian haired exotic dancer I happened to see on the way to my apartment one night. Her husband was at work and so was my boyfriend (who later became ex-husband number one), so we rolled on the floor, letting our fingers do the walking into panties and each other until we were both happy and sweaty and giggling. Still, something seemed to be missing, and that was the orgasm I had with men (only back then, that was pretty seldom too). Not until I got to Seattle and met not only a sultry, round Korean woman did that finally happen. In fact it happened so suddenly, me on top her gasping and flopping like a fish, that I was totally, instantly in love. Unfortunately this didn’t last, as she ended up back with a former boyfriend and I didn’t see her again for about four years.

There were more orgasms with women, including the many that happened in a hotel room during a sci-fi convention with a woman I nicknamed ‘all night Heather’, because we actually did it all night long. We even fell off the bed at one point, giggled and kissed our way back onto the bed and kept at it until the sun was coming up. I was exhausted but damned happy. Not as happy though as the time I got my current playmate at the place I now belong to, to her orgasm and found out why so many guys there liked her lots. As I watched a little geyser spurt from her in endless torrents and listened to her little gasps, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven, and yeah, I had a few orgasms myself just watching her. She’s actually the one who served as the deciding factor/bridge to the soldier boy I’d been lusting for at that same sex positive center I belong to, when we all ended up in bed together. For that I’m eternally grateful. This, I shamelessly tell you......