How We Came To Be

Just a few notes:

First, most folks seemed to enjoy "Patricia and Sandra: A Love Story". And while most understood why the story seemed rushed (well that is because it was rushed by design), some wanted to hear more of their story, so here it is. The Story of how they became "us".

Second, although I am mostly straight, 90% of the folks in my life that I consider friends are in the LGBT and Leather communities, so as I wrote this story I tried to write it in a way not to be offensive to my lesbian friends. Hopefully, I was at least somewhat successful in that endeavor.

Third, of course ratings and comments are most welcome. Please keep in mind that I have had no journalistic training, and this site is in fact for mostly amateurs (meaning me!) posting stories to help entertain the masses.

And finally, there is very little sex in this story. I wanted it to be a romantic love story from the start and for the most part kept it that way. Also, there are places where I was not happy with the flow of the story so I am curious to see the comments to see if we agree. Hope the next one is better.

So without further explanation or excuse, let's learn a little more about Patricia and Sandra.

*****

Hi everyone, my name is Patricia, of course many of you already know the story of how I met my wife, Sandra. Oh, wait! Well okay, the cat is out of the bag, so to speak. When we last saw each other, I was only engaged to Sandra. So now, I guess you know that things progressed really well and I am in fact no longer, single and alone.

But what about, as Paul Harvey would say, "the rest of the story?"

"Well, let me fill in the blanks for you!"

Hopefully I will not bore you to tears (or drink). I will start my story my freshman year at Marietta High School, Marietta, Ga. I started the year with several clouds hanging over my head. One very obvious cloud was that Mom was very sick. She had cancer, and doctors had tried everything. The cancer had gone into remission once, but had come back. So far this battle had lasted for 6 years. Mom's fighting spirit was wearing thin and the doctors told us it was a matter of time. That being said, Mom refused to give up the fight. A fight that she would not loose for another 4 years.

Another cloud floating around my head, was my grades. While I was normally a pretty good student, I was an only child. That meant that much of the stuff Mom normally did, fell on me or my dad, when he wasn't tending to Mom. Oh, I was still doing okay in school, and I would still be able to get into college, but I was not achieving the standards and goals that I had set for myself.

And that brings me to my final "cloud" floating around and occasionally raining on me. I just started high school and both my Mom and Dad "expected" me to have a social life. I emphasized it like that because my parents, specifically my mom, demanded that I not let her health impede the development of my social life. Mom knew how important a social life was in high school, and she had no desire for me to become a "social outcast".

The problem is that I was already a social outcast. I was living a lie. I was dating a guy named Steve that I had known since our toddler days. We were in the same grade and knew everything there is to know about each other. So, yes, he knew I am what some women refer to as a "Gold Star Lesbian". Meaning I have never had sex with a man. In fact, other than my deceased father, I have never even kissed a man. Even then it was only a chaste kiss on the cheeks. Sure, when I was a very little girl, I kissed my Daddy on the lips, but that came to an end the older I got. The one thing that never did change was that until the day my mother passed away, I continued to kiss her on the lips.

Early on in my life, I realized that I really enjoyed kissing girls. I thought I was very weird because none of the girls that I knew ever talked about kissing girls except the random insult thrown at girls acting different than was expected of them. But this was the South and "liking" someone of the same sex was cause for immediate intervention from church, mental health counsellors, school authorities, and even the police if abuse was suspected

As for Steve, he was 100% straight, he just had no real interest in establishing a relationship at the time. So he was the perfect friend to hide behind. After all, I did not want to cause my Mom any more stress by coming out. Now that I look back at it, I do feel bad that I lied to my Mother and she took that lie to her grave. I really should have been honest to myself and my parents. But I was afraid and chickened out. It didn't help that my entire life, my parents had made it very clear that as far as they were concerned, people in same sex relationships were in dire need of spiritual guidance. I refuse to use the words that I heard come from their mouths. Also, High School girls can be very catty and judgmental as well. So in the interest of self-preservation, I kept my sexual preferences a closely guarded secret.

Steve and I "dated" all 4 years of high school. And in all honesty, we had a great time. Neither of us felt any pressure to take the relationship further since we already knew there was no future for "us" as a couple.

I was finally a senior with just a very few weeks until graduation. I was 18 years old making plans to start college in the fall. Graduation came and went, I was able to bring my grades back up to near where I wanted them. I had been accepted to University of Georgia in Athens, Ga. Then within a few short months, my world changed in very drastic ways. My mother had suffered with a long term illness, and lost her battle one month to the day after I graduated.

Of course my Dad was devastated. Mom was the love of his life, in fact he would always refer to Mom as the center of his entire universe. With a love like that, it was really no surprise when he told me one day that he loved me more than anything else, but he really wanted to go where Mom was. The following day, I came home and he had done just that. He had gone to wherever Mom was.

Doctor did a complete examination and determined the cause to be "natural cause of death". I, on the other hand, knew that Dad had died of a broken heart. Steve and I "broke up", shortly after Mom passed. We used the excuse that I was just not in a place to be in a relationship. Besides, it would have never worked out. The traitor actually had the nerve to attend Georgia Tech in Atlanta. Anyone with half a brain knows that Georgia Bulldogs and Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets "HATE" each other.

For a young lady trying to get ready to go to college and all the preparation that entails, the last thing I needed was the added stress of burying Dad and all the legal hassles involved with that. I was the prime example of what many call, "a basket case". I was so emotionally wound that I came very close to just forgetting about college.

Something had to give, and that was the easiest headache to dispose of. I made the decision to put college on hold for a while, if not permanently. I finally took care of all the legalities involved with my Dad's passing, including the reading of his will. Unknown to me, dad had made sure that "his little girl" (as I got older I absolutely HATED hearing him call me that, although now I would give anything to hear it just one more time.) was well taken care of. So much so, that I could live a very long and leisurely life, and never have to work, or continue my education.

That being said, I had way to much respect for my dad and I knew that I would honor his desire to see me continue my education. After the dust settled, I began to try to revive my slowly eroding dreams of attending college. As I did not want to put too much stress back in my life to soon, I decided to just take care of the basic requirements needed for a Bachelor's Degree, so University of Georgia would have to wait. I could decide on a major later on. I was lucky in that, even though it was getting late into the summer, I was still able to get accepted to the local community college about 20 miles from my house. That allowed me to live in my old house and attend courses. You'll notice that I called it "my house" as opposed to "my home". There was just too much missing to call it a home.

And so it began. Getting ready to start college and living alone in the house I grew up in. Add to that, my status as not only a lesbian, but again, a never been kissed virgin. So it was right back in the fire for me. Stress levels were rising on an almost daily basis. I was not a "party girl", so I rarely went out to bars and even if I did, I avoided putting myself in a position that required interaction with another human being, much less if that human being turned out to be a cute girl. What was I supposed to do? Walk up to her and say "Hi, I'm a lesbian and a virgin! Do you want to do me?".

As I said earlier, I am 18 yrs old, actually soon to be 19 by the time classes started. What I didn't say was that I am 5'9" tall, long flowing blonde hair and while not Dolly Parton, I was very proud of my firm 36DD breasts. So, while I am sure that I could have gotten a positive reply to the "do you want to do me" question, it was not the way I wanted to start out in a relationship. And that is the problem. I wanted a relationship! I wanted what my Mom and Dad had. I just wanted it to be Mom and Mom for me.

So there I stood, on the sidewalk looking at the entrance to Fulton Community College. I walked towards the big glass double doors, wondering if I had made the right decision and what the future held for me. But if I wanted to been seen as an adult I had to act like one. I took a deep breath and walked thru the glass doors and was immediately run over by the most beautiful young woman I have ever seen in my life.

She was frantic, apologizing repeatedly while trying to figure out where she was supposed to be going. The poor girl was almost in tears. Her longtime boyfriend broke up with her since she was going to college two hundred miles from him. Doing that, obviously meant that she did not love him

I grabbed her, holding her tight while she sobbed. She composed herself, apologized for what had to be the twentieth time. I felt so sorry for her, but at the same time, I had a difficult time trying to hide my giggling. Unfortunately, that only upset her even more. Finally getting her to calm down, I found that we were headed for the same classroom, and that her name was Sandra.

That was the beginning of "us", even if we did not realize it at the time. We became fast friends and wound up spending almost all our free time together. I even set up the spare bedroom for her so she had a place to stay if she didn't feel like going home to her apartment.

Her dad had prepaid a full school year rent on an apartment for her, and had gotten a very good deal on the cost. Based on that, there was a no refund clause in the rental agreement, so in effect Sandra had 2 places to live. I still can't believe how fast we became friends and how well we seemed to mesh together. The sad part about that is that neither one of us dated, and it seemed that neither one of us noticed. We both failed to realize that it was always Patricia and Sandra wherever we went. There were never any male friends or in hindsight no female friends either. Sure there would be a group of us that would go out to eat or to a club, but any other time it was just "us".

We even had 3 classes together so it seemed as though we were destined to be together. Well, as destined to be together as a lesbian and straight girl could be. As our friendship grew stronger, we began to share more and more of our lives "pre-college".

I shared my story with her, pretty much the same way I shared it with you guys (yes, you guys! The Readers!). Well, except for the lesbian part. Sandra also gave me her life story which she said, I should share with you guys as well. So here goes.

Sandra has also just turned 19 yrs old. She is a fiery, 5'7" tall redhead with what she says is a 34C bust. She carries her 125lbs very nicely and basically looks like sex on two legs. Oh, and she is VERY straight. Wants the whole 9 yards. Her career along with her handsome 6'5", brown hair, blue eyed husband, 2 kids, 2 car garage, 2 story house with a wraparound porch on 5 acres of land. Other than that she claims not to be picky.

Her parents are well off, and have basically foot the bill for her college and apartment. Her tuition included the price of her books, so her only real expenses were her phone and food. But then they gave her $1,000.00 a month for other expenses, which means in reality, they even paid for her phone and food. They made it clear that they only want the very best for their little girl and the 2 future grandkids. And to that end, every single phone call from Mom included the usual question "Have you met anyone special yet?".

So here we are, just two girls taking on the world. One day at a time, one success at a time. You guys can feel free to introduce yourselves in the comments section.

Sandra did manage to get me out of my shell, so to speak. She liked going to clubs and refused to let me hide in the house. So several nights a week, it was off to the club for us. She love to dance, so from the minute we walked into the club, to the minute we left, she was never off the dance floor for very long. I, on the other hand, was rarely ever on the dance floor preferring to hide in a corner and girl watch.

But, one of our club nights, things began to ever so slightly change. Like I said, we were very close. We shared everything, every secret, well except for my one BIG secret, every hope and dream. I was sitting at the table enjoying my beer, when Sandra came off the dance floor and plopped down in her chair. I got a close look at her, and realized that She had tears in her eyes.

Sandra looked at me and said, "let's get out of here. I am not having fun tonight."

So, out the door we went. I asked if she wanted to stay at my place tonight and of course the answer was yes.

When we got in the house, I asked her what was wrong. She landed on the sofa covering her face with her hands. Figuring she didn't need any more alcohol, I went and got her a glass of water. Giving her the water, I moved her legs so I could sit, and put her legs down across my lap. I rubbed her legs and once again, asked her what was wrong.

Sandra looked at me and told me that she had talked with her mom earlier today. She was so very sick and tired of her mother always wanting to know how the "search for a husband" was going. She just could not get her mother to understand that she wanted to live her life for a while before trying to settle down in a marriage. She wanted to "party" for a while. She just had things she wanted to get out of her system. Dad, on the other hand, had sent her to college to continue her education. And there is the problem. Three people with three different reasons for her to be in school. Dad to get the education, Mom to find a husband, and Sandra to party for a bit and just be a young woman.

Sandra yawned then looked at me and asked if she could sleep in my bed tonight. Of course I said no problem. We often slept in the same bed. Late nights studying, just talking, or just because we wanted company.

As we crawled into bed, Sandra surprised me by, leaning over and giving a peck on the cheek. That wasn't very surprising as we often gave each other hugs and pecks on the cheek. The surprising part was that the kiss was dangerously close to my lips.

She followed that up with the words that in reality completely surprised me. "Please cuddle up close and hold me, I need to feel loved right now."

As she snuggled into the bed, I snuggled up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. My breasts pressed flat against her back as I held her close. This just felt so right. Something I could get very used to. I lay my head on the pillow at the back of her neck, I gave her neck a soft kiss and told her I loved her.

She replied, "I love you to."

The next morning, I crawled out of bed, took care of all my hygiene tasks, headed for the kitchen and the coffee pot. As I walked out of the bedroom, I glanced back at a still sleeping Sandra, once again stricken with her beauty as she slept. It took every ounce of my will power to walk out of that bedroom, leaving my sleeping beauty alone.

Okay, where did the "my sleeping beauty" come from?

I was on my second cup of coffee, when Sandra wandered into the kitchen. She was so incredibly sexy. Her oversize sleeping shirt, her hair messy, actually looked like she spent the night having wild sex. I ask her to sit as I had something that I wanted to talk about. I got up and fixed her a cup of coffee, gave it to her and returned to my chair.

Fidgeting with her coffee cup, she looked over at me asking, "was my behavior last night was a problem."

She didn't mean to dump on me like that, just that she couldn't stop talking once she started. She also did not know what possessed her to ask to sleep with me saying she "needed to feel loved". She asked me what she had done wrong. She just would not shut the hell up long enough for me to get a word in.

I finally smiled, and actually rather loudly, told her to shut up for a minute. She stopped in mid-sentence with a surprised look on her face. I smiled and told her that first and foremost she was my best friend in the entire world, so I would always be there for her when she needed to "dump" on me. I gave her the "it is not you, it's me" line, which really confused her since it sounded like we were breaking up from a relationship that did not exist.

In reality, my attempt to lighten the mood had failed miserably. As she sat there trying to decipher the meaning of my words, I took her hands in mine and told her to forget I even said that.

It was then that I revealed the one secret that I had never even told her. Sandra, I need to tell you that I am a lesbian. You are the only the second person in the world that I have shared my secret with. I was so afraid to tell you, afraid to lose you as a friend. But I could not go any longer without telling you. I understand if it affects our friendship. I hope it doesn't, but I understand and will respect whatever decisions you make. After last night when you asked to sleep in my bed, I knew I had to tell you. It wouldn't be fair not to tell you.

Sandra looked at me with disbelief on her face. She gave me the, "wow, I need some time to process this" line and said "she needed to get dressed as she had some errands to run."

With that she was out the door, leaving me worried that I had really screwed up a good friendship. Worried that I would never see her again. Worried that she would hate me. Wondering why I had to open my big mouth. Since this was Saturday, we wouldn't see each other at school. It also meant that I had an entire day to berate myself for ruining a beautiful friendship. That being said, I knew I couldn't continue on with the way things were going. It was killing me on the inside, having to hide who I was from her. I needed her to be my friend which meant that she needed to be a friend to the "whole" me.

I was surprised and admittedly grateful when she called Saturday afternoon to invite herself over for the evening. She said, I feel like pizza and a movie."

I could pick the movie and she would bring the pizza. For a split second, I almost chose "Girltrash: All Night Long" (which by the way is a lesbian romantic comedy on Netflix), but thought that might be a bit much. As it turned out, the movie wasn't wanted. Sandra wanted to talk.

First she hugged me and apologized for her reaction this morning. She was actually very embarrassed saying she handled my revelation very poorly. A true friend would not have reacted that way. She said that part of her reaction was based upon the fact that she was having some personal issues, specifically her mother. As we shared pizza, she continued saying that she was straight and had plans to one day marry and have children. So the bottom line was that we could maintain our friendship, if I could respect her limits. I knew what she was trying to say, but for some reason, the way she said it really bothered me. I held my tongue and we finished the pizza. She said that she felt like she should go home to give us the chance to process the day.