The Forty-Year-Old Virgin - A Lesbian Twist

A Short Story

A large woman with short dark hair, adorable dimples when she smiled, and a cane hobbled next to the hugger. She wore thick black glasses that she pushed against her nose in an unconscious gesture that I suspected she repeated several times a day. "Hey, Barbie, can you help me find my buddy?"

"Who do you have?"

"Kathy Small."

I felt like a deer in someone's headlights.

Barbie glanced over at my table and grinned. "Oh, she snuck by me earlier, but I was just heading over to say hello."

The seat next to me was empty, and Barbie plopped down. "Hiya. Are you a hugger? It's common knowledge I give the best hugs at the conference."

"I like hugs," I replied. The response sounded childlike even to my own ears and probably reinforced whatever stereotype there was about adults with Down's.

"You big flirt, Barbie. It's a good thing you have such an understanding wife," the woman with the cane remarked.

Barbie laughed. "Hobble on over here and come and meet Kathy." She turned back to me. "Rain check on the hug. Marcie is your con virgin buddy, and she's the best."

Barbie stood and motioned for Marcie to take her vacated chair. "So many women, so little time." She seemed to float away as she made her way to the next table.

Marcie set her cane against the table and placed her hand on the chair, moving it over the edges almost as if examining it, before slowly sitting. Her eyes traveled in my direction but never seemed to focus directly on me. At first, it was a bit disconcerting, and I wondered why she didn't make direct eye contact.

Marcie was a very large woman. According to those stupid weight charts, she was at least one hundred pounds overweight, but she carried her encumbrance well. Despite common sense, I found myself attracted to her. Unfortunately, I was in for another heartbreak. It hadn't mattered in the past who I had a crush on. None of the women would ever give me the time of day. All they ever saw was the outer package, which was always a non-starter. I wasn't a virgin by choice.

"Hi Kathy, I'm Marcie. First, I need to let you know that I have a severe visual impairment, so I hope you're not bothered by my asking Barbie for help finding you. I have some sight, but certainly not enough to read the nametags or see the finer details." She smiled and showed off her dimples.

I nearly swooned. "Oh, no, not at all."

She offered her hand, and I took it. I wrapped my small, stubby fingers around her soft skin, using both hands to clasp hers. I was in heaven.

"So, this is your first time at GCLS?" she asked.

"It is. I wanted to meet the author who wrote that book about the two young women with Down's who fall in love."

Marcie smiled again. "I heard she's going to be a part of a panel on differently abled characters. I obviously want to attend that one. We should meet up and plan to sit together. I'd love to get your take on it." She waved her hand in the air. "Obviously, you can see the GCLS participants aren't a bunch of Xenas, Gabrielles, or their twins running around. It's about time lesfic broadened their reach and wrote about women who aren't rich, beautiful Goddesses ready to save the world with their kick-ass fighting skills. Maybe someday someone will write a bestseller about an unattractive, overweight, middle-aged woman like me."

"I don't think you're unattractive. I love your dimples. I noticed them right away," I blurted. Did I actually just say that? Would she think I was flirting with her?

She chuckled. "Can I keep you around? You're perfect for my ego?"

I wanted to respond for as long as you want, but Barbie interrupted the session by bellowing, "Hello, all you gorgeous virgins..."