And I don't want to let her find out. Not yet, anyway. Partly because I’m not evensure what I am. I know a little bit, maybe, but it’s been a lot to figure out over the last fewdays. And nights. Days that are days and nights that are like years.I can't resist her lips. That's what almost made us late for church. I took a look ather lips as she was putting lipstick on them, and couldn't resist. Without even strapping onmy bra, I had to lean over behind her and turn her head to face me and started kissing her. I pushed my tongue into her mouth, forcing her lips apart so I could feel them on either sideof my tongue, soft and pliable and gently sucking on my tongue and she pushed her tongueinto
my
mouth, so I tried to return the favor, but my lips are always a little dry, probably (Ithink) as a result of being me and probably because I'm not very ladylike (except in publicwhen Brigitte makes me be ladylike, like when I’m in church and trying to be ladylike andnot look like I’m remembering kissing Brigitte) and I associate wet, soft, moist lips withladies. We kissed like that for a while, pressing our lips more and more firmly together until I couldn't take it anymore, I wanted those lips everywhere else on me. I moved her mouth away from mine and stared into her eyes for a few moments and then lowered her head down to my breast. She took the hint, and she took my nipple and she nuzzled it andsucked on it.
God
, her lips were so soft that I almost came right then and I cupped her hands in mine...So you can see why we were almost late. And here's Reverend Tommy, who'ssupposed to not be such a bad guy except he says I'm going to hell and he wants to kill meand says I’m taking over the world, and I don't even know what all else, ranting and raving:
"These lesbian zombies walk among us. They dress like us, they talk like us, theylook like us..."
although technically, Reverend Tommy, I don't look like
you
, because youare a
man,
I wanted to say. Brigitte squeezed my thigh. I thought she did it inadvertently but she leaned over and said:"They don't look like him," in a whisper that tickled my ear and made me start to perspire. She was so much like me already! Could I make her
more like
me? Would shelike me more if she were more like me?3