What is it like being with a woman?

"Jen, what's it like? I mean, you know, with another woman?" There. I said it. I asked the question I had wanted to ask since her revelation.

"Do you really want to know?" she replied?

I thought about her question for a bit before answering in the affirmative.

"It's very exciting, it's satisfying, it can be very special, but I think that's true no matter who your partner is," said Jen. "Don't you feel something like that with guys you've been with? I know I have felt that way with guys. I think what turns me on about a woman is how sensitive we are. I mean, how many times have the guys you've dated left you wanting for something more. Now, I'm not saying it's for everyone, but I know that being with a woman can be extremely satisfying for me. If...it's the right woman."

We talked for more than an hour about some of her relationships, some of the highs, some of the lows. Jennifer revealed that she lost her virginity in the back seat of a Ford after her senior prom, having just turned 18. She had sex with three other men since the first, but had enjoyed five women since her first foray into the wild side of sexuality. She told me that the most intense orgasms she has had have come from a woman, but that she still enjoys and has yearnings for cock.

I relayed my three experiences with men, and how two were less than enjoyable quick romps. A relationship with Jon, a guy I had dated for two years, was satisfying in the sex department, despite his being a jerk for leaving me with no warning for a tart from college.

We laughed, so much that it nearly turned to tears, as we discussed our highs and lows of dating and sex. Like the time Jennifer's parents caught her asleep in their bed --- along with a boyfriend. Or the time I was orally pleasing Jon in a parking lot after dinner when a bright police flashlight caught us in the act.

Along the way I steered the conversation back toward her lesbian tendencies, and wondered which was more satisfying to her, guys or girls?

"I enjoy sex, and I think being with women as well as men is the best of both worlds," she said, after thinking for a bit. "It's not for everyone, I understand that, but I like it and while it isn't really totally socially acceptable I make it work."

By the time we drifted off to sleep I knew that Jennifer was a special friend. She had trusted me with her most intimate of secrets, and I felt comfortable in knowing I could maintain that trust.

Over the next couple months we spoke numerous times of our sexual exploits, not so much in detail, but in concept. By that I mean we did go through a blow-by-blow, grope by grope, reciting of what we did in the privacy of our places of rendezvous, but we did discuss the good times...and bad.

I was having a particularly difficult time in youth psychology class, struggling with some of the parenting concepts that seemed so foreign to me. My professor, Mr. Hamilton, was a constant pain in the ass, droning on for hours on end then hitting us with pop quizzes. While I was carrying a B average in all my classes except his, the D that I would get from him would cause all kinds of unrest at home. Hence, I studied, and studied, and studied. I asked questions of the prof, I asked for help, I did all the things I was supposed to do.

Still, heading into my final, I knew I needed at least a B on the exam to pull my grade into C level.

I had spent the entire day before the exam in the library, going over every piece of material. I hit the dorm room at 10 p.m., exhausted, at wit's end, and near frantic with my mind jumbled with facts, concepts and figures.

"You look a mess," said Jennifer when I entered the room.

"Gee thanks!" I said with mock indignation. "I'm coming from my makeover and massage and I feel great!"

"Don't you wish," said came her motherly command with a smile. "Hey, hit the shower, it will perk you up. Then we'll get lights out and get you some rest. You have a big day tomorrow and you need to be rested and relaxed."

I knew she was right. I undressed, grabbed a bathrobe given to me as a gift from my mother, and padded down the hallways to the common shower room. There I saw Melissa working on her hair. I slipped into one of the compact shower stalls, removed the robe, and reached for the faucet. It took a bit for the water to be the way I liked it, but once I stepped under the spray I knew the shower was the right decision. Lathering up, the warm water felt heavenly as it cascaded down on my body. I spent a luxurious 15 minutes under the pellets before emerging in a better frame of mind.

My towel drank most of the water from my body while the robe collected the residue, and I walked back to the room. Some of the tenseness had left me, but as my mind drifted ahead to the exam some returned. Entering our room, I finished drying off then doffed a blue baby doll nightie with matching panties. A leftover from a romantic weekend rendezvous several months back, the soft cloth felt good against my body.

"You look marvelous in that, Annie," said Jennifer. "Did the shower relax you a bit?"

Nodding my head in agreement with her thought, I dried my hair. "I think I'm ready for tomorrow, but there is so much to remember. He's a stickler for details."

Jennifer looked at me with questioning eyes.

"What?" I asked.

"Don't take this the wrong way," she gently spoke. "But I know in situations like these, when I'm really stressed out, a massage works wonders. I'm volunteering if you're a woman in need."

Months ago --- before THE revelation --- Jen had given me one of her patented massages. It was marvelous. But since her revelation she hadn't volunteered nor had I asked for her to work her magic fingers on my aching muscles. I desperately wanted her to work wonders on my back, I needed to relieve some of the tension, and after some deliberation, decided to go for it.

"Jen, how about one of your $20 massages," I joked.

She laughed, "Oh, you want a quickie! Suit yourself."

We laughed at our nervousness, but soon I was prone on my bed and Jennifer was kneading my neck. She moved atop my back, continuing to massage my neck. It was heavenly, and soon I began to forget about my worries and exams and such and soaked in the relaxing hands of my roommate.

From my neck she moved down my back, this time pushing down hard then alternating with softer caresses. After about 15 minutes I was ready to drift off into never never land. Still the massage continued, slowly, lovingly, down my back and to the top of my ass cheeks where she paused.

"Annie?" came the question. "Do you want me to continue or are you uncomfortable?"