Secret, Saintly Schoolgirl Love - Sex Stories

Secret, Saintly Schoolgirl Love

... Reverend James, at least inside my head.

There was nothing in the Bible specifically about lesbians. Well, therewas that thing about being fruitful and multiplying, but that was in the beginning, when God had only made a few of each creature. The Earth wasn’t exactly hurting for humans anymore, and no one would tell a celibate preacher, or an infertile husband and wife, that they were defying God by honoring the love they felt for their work or each other.

Two women or two men who loved each other seemed no different to me.

Most of all, I knew that Godwas love, and what flowed through Reverend James when he talked about those people, was not.

When I had my own church, gay people would be welcomed with open arms.

I just happened not to be one of them, that’s all.

Of course I loved Hannah. Of course I loved her more than anyone else in the world.

But there was nothing unusual about best friends being super close, even at regular high schools. And True Light girls lived together most of the year, with no one but each other.

There was nothing unusual about the fact that I was in no rush to be someplace that had boys, either. The faculty made a point of explaining at every open house how much safer and less stressful it was for us here, secluded from all that.

And there couldn’t be anything unusual about my noticing other girls’ bodies, and finding my attention wandering to them. If it were unusual, why would the adults go to such lengths to keep ...

... everyone covered up and distraction-free, even with no boys around?

These were all just parts of a perfectly typical teen girl experience. If I were gay, there’d be some definite sign, wouldn’t there? I’d look at Hannah, and I’d feel….

I looked at her now, and she looked up at me, curiously, anxiously. She lifted one of her hands to brush a lock of her mousy, pin-straight hair behind her ear, and then immediately returned it to mine. I could feel the full weight of her slight frame wavering left and right in my grip, and knew that there was no way on Earth I was letting go.

My heart ached, my body thrummed with the most concentrated form of touch-hunger energy, and I struggled to imagine any sensation I could add to that cocktail to make it more definite than it already was.

Cripes, that was that, wasn’t it?

That was gay.

Gay was me.

Notthem, butme.

Every organ inside me seized up, every muscle clenched, and I turned my head reflexively toward the boathouse entrance, absolutely sure that someone was going to be standing there, ready to confirm the righteousness of the paralyzing shame inside me.

But there was no one, and I could not be the one to confirm it myself.

I believed in inclusion. Truly, I did. So why had I fought so hard to kill this part of me that needed it? Why was Istill fighting?

Hannah waited for my answer, and I was able to catch a few glimmers of hope slipping into her expression.

If she was hoping for a yes, then that meant she ...