Lesbian swingers galore

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Lesbian swingers galore

Lou kissed Katy on the mouth for long torturous seconds. And to think I had even considered practising luke-warm friendliness towards Katy that night, mostly to do Alex a favour, but also in the spirit of my new-found therapeutic enlightenment. I looked around the room for a glimpse of Alex, for a hint of support in his eyes, but I couldn’t find him. My blood was boiling but my heart hadn’t felt so stone-cold in a long time. Mostly, I felt utterly alone. From the back of my mind, from a dark well-hidden space in the outskirts of my skull, a name started inching its way forward. Claire. I so longed for Claire in that moment, for her deeply flawed but ever-present love.

“Do you know each other?” Katy asked, while eyeing Lou and me, the sarcasm in her voice barely hidden. I opened my mouth to speak, to say the meanest thing that sprang to mind, but no words came out. Instead, I was on the brink of tears.

“Intimately,” Lou said and winked at me, but her touch was reserved for Katy that night. When had this happened? I had only been twenty minutes late to this party. Where had they found the time to hook up already? Then finally, out of a small throng of twinks, as if he’d been temporarily swallowed by them, Alex emerged.

“Leesbian,” he said. “Come here.” I wanted to disappear into his familiar hug, his rock-hard biceps crushing my cheek as they curled around me. “Step into the kitchen with me for a minute.” Grateful and relieved, I let him whisk me out of the situation. As if distancing myself from them by two or three feet could make it all go away. “First, drink this.” He handed me a tall G&T. I downed it in five seconds, the buzz soothing my edgy nerves instantaneously.

“I don’t want to rain on your parade, homie. But what kind of party is this? Lesbian swingers galore?”

“I’m so sorry, sweetie. They both came over to help me prepare this afternoon and they hit it off.”

“Obviously.”

“You will stay, won’t you?” Alex was already mixing me a second double G&T. “I’ll throw them out if I have to, but I want you to stay.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, eagerly accepting the tall glass of alcohol. “I’m almost ready to go back in.” I knocked the drink back in a couple of greedy gulps. “I’m in therapy now. I can deal with these kinds of situations.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” Alex asked. “Still creaming your jeans every time your shrink adjusts her glasses?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” I confessed. “My Monday nights have never been so hot and bothered.”

“Hey,” Liz joined us in the kitchen. “Those two are all over each other.” She ogled my drink, my third in ten minutes, with a passion I recognised all too well − the I-desperately-want-what-I-can’t-have variety.

“It’s disgusting,” I said, not having fully risen above it yet.

“Now now, Lee,” Alex interjected, “just because you’re willingly abstaining doesn’t mean we all have to become born-again-virgins.”

“Maybe all you need is a good shag,” Liz said.

“There’s an idea,” I whispered. Claire, I thought. Where is she? What is she doing? And, most importantly, to whom?

“I won’t forbid you to see her, of course,” Roz had said. “But it would be better if you took some time off from her, so to speak.” The thing with being attracted to my therapist was that I tended to listen very carefully when she spoke, and tried to please her in every way possible. I wasn’t going anywhere near Claire that night. I would drink away my desire and bottle the remnants up for later, for Monday, when I could pour it all out for Roz. I could hardly wait.

To be continued…

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