Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 937.

Wuthering Dormice
(aka Bike)
Part 937
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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“I thought you weren’t talking to me?” said Julie when I went up to her room.

“No, we’re talking as far as I know–that I think you’re being unwise is something we’ll have to live with–because one of us is going to be wrong.”

“Siân said you’d try and dissuade me.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“Because you think she wants to seduce me.”

“I can’t read her mind, so I have no idea why she wants you to go–but I doubt it’s for platonic reasons.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Platonic relationships are purely intellectual–a meeting of minds, like Stella and Kiki.”

“She’d kill you if she heard you say that.”

“She might–however, you’re going because you like the attention, and she might spend a few bob on you. Have you any idea how she might react if her intentions aren’t honourable and she finds out she’s been had? She is not going to be pleased.”

“Should I tell her?”

“That’s up to you–it would be one way of avoiding one outcome; but if she is inviting you because she likes you in a non-sexual way–why didn’t she mention it to me when she asked you?”

“Because she knew you’d say no?”

“I wouldn’t if she’d promised it was just to treat you to a weekend away.”

“But what if I am lesbian, Mummy?”

“What if you are? At the moment it would be a theoretical thing anyway, because you still have a plumbing problem, which if she starts anything that excites you, is going to give the game away, isn’t it?”

“Won’t the hormones stop that?”

“Eventually–but not after taking them for five minutes, like you have.”

“Oh–I thought they would.”

“Why don’t you see Stephanie, see what she thinks?”

“I could do, couldn’t I? Would she tell me not to go?”

“How do I know? She’s a psychiatrist, they do stranger things than their patients. What shall I tell Leon while you’re away?”

“Oh, dear Leon, he’s a real brick.”

“Is he? So what do you feel for him?”

“I like him a lot, he’s a good kisser, too.”

“Do you fancy him?”

“Yeah, sorta–but I’m so conscious of men after that bloke who beat me up, that I try not to think about it–besides you keep telling me I can’t do anything until I’m post op and that could take a couple or more years.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t do anything–but don’t let me catch you doing anything, because I will not be amused.”

“You’ve lost me, Mummy.”

“There are things girls sometimes do with boys which aren’t full on sex, and which keep the boys happy–to a degree.”

“You’re telling me I can do...?” she said exuberantly.

“No–I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I blushed profusely, “Besides if you’re lesbian–such activities would be the last thing on your mind.”

“What if I’m bi?”

“Bi–what? Bifocals, biplane, biannual?”

“Bi-sexual–silly.”

“I doubt it means having the best of both worlds–but I wouldn’t know.”

“But maybe it does, Mummy–going with girls and boys.”

“I think you need to talk with Stephanie about this–it’s a bit beyond my limited experience.”

“Okay,” she stopped to think about something for a minute, “Mummy, were you a virgin when you married Daddy?”

“No–we’d lived together for a couple of years by then. I was until I had surgery.”

“So you’ve never tried it with a girl?”

“No.”

“Did you fancy boys or girls when you were my age?”

“I didn’t think about it at all.”

“Not one little bit?”

“No–not at all.”

“You were strange, Mummy.”

“According to some–I still am.”

“When did you start to fancy men?”

“If I’m honest, I was out with Simon collecting his car and my damaged bike, and the mechanic who came to tow his car away kissed me. I had an orgasm–the first one ever.”

“You what? He kissed you and you---first one ever? Crikey–you mean you never gave yourself a handjob?”

“Good Lord, no–I despised what was down there and touched it as little as possible–little being the operative word. I thought I was asexual–didn’t have any interest in sex–then Kevin forced a kiss on me and I made a small mess in my knickers–not much, because I’d been on hormones for several months.”

“Had anyone ever kissed you before?”

“Simon had the night before and Stella.”

“Stella kissed you?”

“Only girl to girl, air kiss.”

“That doesn’t count–it’s gotta be a full blown liplock.”

“In which case, Kevin was the first boy to kiss me sexually as a girl.”

“Cor, and how old were you?”

“About twenty two or three; yeah, twenty three.”

“Cor–an’ I thought I was slow off the mark. But I’ve kissed loadsa girls, and one or two boys now–think I prefer the way boys kiss.”

“Are you listening to yourself?”

“Why, Mummy, what did I like say?”

“You prefer being kissed by boys.”

“Oh–you think I should cancel Siân?”

“I think you should decide what you want from life.”

“Um–okay.”

I left her to stew in her own juices and went to check the casserole–the kitchen was beginning to smell very interesting. I took it from the oven and added some Worcester sauce, then popped it back in. It smelt really appetising and I’m the cook.

I put a dozen large potatoes in the oven alongside the casserole to bake in their jackets–and some beetroot–baked beetroot was a delicacy a friend showed me a couple of years ago–it’s delish.

I made some soup for lunch, using some scraps from the veg I would use for dinner, and some stock I had in the fridge. I peeled and chopped some potatoes and carrots added some chopped leek and simmered, then added some pasta and lentils to thicken it, simmered it a bit longer and bashed it with the hand blender. With some homemade bread it was as good as a feast.

After lunch, Stella and Julie helped me do some housework, in between which I called to make an urgent appointment with Stephanie for Julie. She could squeeze her in tomorrow. I felt relieved that she would be seeing someone who could look at her sexuality in a more objective way–I felt I was being more objectionable than objective.

In some ways, I didn’t feel comfortable helping her decide what she was. Once that was decided–I could sort out my own feelings and help her to adjust her life to cope with her future. Whatever she decided she was didn’t mean I would love her any more or any less–I hoped that commitment from me was unconditional. Yet, perhaps because I felt so undecided about myself until quite late in life compared to her–I felt unqualified to help her make decisions. Oh bugger–I’m not very good at this maternal stuff.

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