The Adult Story Hub

Permission to post to free sites, provided that the author information and this warning remain intact is hereby given. For other postings e-mail me. Copyright (c) 2004 by Janna Leonard, all rights reserved.
By Janna Leonard (sensuscribe3@yahoo.com)

Warning: This story contains graphic descriptions of lesbian sex, if this theme offends you, please exit the page. Likewise, if you are underage or it is illegal to view such material where you live, exit the page now. As always, this story is the product of my imagination and bears absolutely no resemblance to any real person, place or thing.
Some comments: Any relationship takes work on both sides, but those of us with alternative lifestyles seem to have the most difficult time finding a mate. Nature and nurture have conspired at times to thwart our best efforts, and those who succeed are fortunate. Honesty to ourselves first is prime, how we feel and think about ourselves must be kind and gentle.

The insecurity of childhood and those strange feelings we can't explain, the demand of parents to know what's going on, and our initial interactions with like-minded souls all feed the need to be secretive, lest some one find out about our inner selves. Pain shared is pain reduced, as secrets shared multiply tenfold until we ourselves cannot tell truth from fiction.

As you will read, even someone who is open about their sexuality has problems dealing with emotion, especially the powerful one of love. Sex is not something you do, it is something you are. As your journey of life unfolds, I beg of you, do not be ashamed of who and what you are. Enjoy, Janna :)


The rain matched my mood, dark and bleak. No customers came in to break the monotony, and just before six I closed up and walked the two blocks to my apartment. I stripped out of my skirt and top, letting them fall to the floor. Ditto for the bra and panties, there was no one home but me and I didn't care. Kicking my sandals into the corner, I walked to the kitchen for a beer.

Sitting on the chair near the window, I opened my beer and sat, letting the tears flow and looking out at the world below. People hurrying to get in out of the drizzle, the smell of something garlicky in the air, mothers calling their children home. I was depressed, sad and yes, angry.

Margie had left that morning and told me she wouldn't be coming back, yet another failure in the short time since I'd come out. If someone had told me 2 years earlier that relationships would be the toughest part of being a lesbian, I'd have laughed in their face. I had the basics, a female's body and an inclination to have sex with women. I loved them, their smells, their short skirts and pretty feet, the legs to die for, the soft breasts to snuggle against, the asses to hold and play with, everything about them. I thought that they had liked the same things about me, but something was wrong.

I finished the beer and debated getting another, deciding on a shower instead. Gathering my clothes from the floor, I put them in the hamper and dressed for an evening out, a skirt without underwear and no bra. I was only going down the street anyway, it was a Tuesday night and Leslie's would be empty. Locking the apartment behind me, I tip-toed quietly down the stairs.

The rain had ceased, but the dark clouds overhead hid the moon, making the streetlights glow with an eerie light. Wrapping my windbreaker a little tighter, I jogged the last few steps to the door of Leslie's. It was as empty as I thought it would be, the only two customers were playing pool and Roni was polishing glasses.

"Hi! Ginny, what can I get ya?" she asked, the accent of the deep south hanging in the air.

"A tall draft and a roast beef if you have it," I replied, hanging up my jacket. The two girls at the pool table glanced at me and decided I wasn't worth the effort, resuming their pool game. I ate the sandwich and finished the beer, then started working on another while I waited for an opportunity to talk to Veronica.

The two finished their game and left, leaving Roni and I alone. She sat near me behind the bar and asked "You look sad, are you ok?"

"Margie left this morning, I'm depressed," I replied.

"Doesn't surprise me," she said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You wouldn't shop for steak at a fruit stand, would you?" she asked.

"Well, no," I replied, confused.

"Most of the girls who come in here are looking for quick sex or they're curious," she said," you have to find one that's looking for the same things you are."

"Mmmm," I replied, beginning to understand.

"How do you know when someone is right for you?" I asked, "I'm having a hell of a time picking the right one."

"That's because you might be letting them pick you instead of the other way around," Roni smiled.

"But still, there must be some way you can tell," I mused.

"Most of us base our relationships on commitment and caring, but there are a few who only want sex," she said.

"How do you tell the difference?" I asked.

"Get to know them first... mutual attraction is good, but what about her habits?...does she snore, leave her underwear on the floor, brush her teeth regularly, things like that," she stated.

"I wish I could find someone nice," I sighed.

"Well then you have to be selective, don't be in such a rush to give your heart away and get them into bed, enjoy their company first, get to know them, like them as people, as women, get to know their secrets and dreams, share yours with them, you know?" she said.

"Good point!" I smiled.

"And, on top of all that, if your orgasms feel like your ovaries are on fire, that's the one for you!" she exclaimed.

"I wish," I said glumly.

I bought another round and Roni and I talked a little further, her advice coming from experience gained over the years.

My conversation with Roni left me feeling a little less edgy, and I went home to my empty bed and crashed. I slept well that night and met my Dad at the shop the next morning, intending to ask him for some time off. Smiling and nodding at my request, he said "I've been wondering when you were going to come to your senses, a pretty girl like you shouldn't be spending all her days indoors."

"I don't mind, really," I said.

"I know, I appreciate you helping out here, but why don't you take the whole summer instead of a couple of weeks? " he asked. "Take the camper, travel around, take pictures, explore the country a little, be lazy for once!"

"Are you sure?" I asked, thinking I hadn't heard correctly.

"Positive, I'll make sure it's ready in a couple of days and you can take it from there....I'll watch the place while your gone," he said.

"I don't have enough money to last me four months," I said.

"I'll give you a couple of thousand in traveler's checks before you leave," he said, grinning.

"That's too much!" I protested.

"I can't take it with me, you may as well get some use out of it," he said, once again serious.

That evening I went over and made supper for him, having it ready on the table when he walked in. He sat down and said grace after washing his hands, and we enjoyed our meal without too much conversation. Pop had been the only man in my life from day one, and I loved him with all my heart. Always supportive of me and my choices, he had given me options and let me choose rather than being authoritative.

I learned early that some choices are better than others, and the consequences of a choice can sometimes be painful, witness the episode with Margie. I couldn't remember if he had ever raised his voice to me, preferring instead to give his opinion in the measured tones of reason.


Later in the week I was ready, packed to the gills in the contraption my Dad called the camper. The front was a normal van with two seats, and the back was a 24 foot long box with a stove and everything else I would need to camp in comfort. Rudimentary toilet facilities existed in the same space as the shower and the couch folded out to make a double bed.

The child's bunk above the driver was used mainly for storage, and it was there that I stashed my purse, ID, cash and checks. The coolers were full of ice (and beer), the propane tank was full, the cabinets had groceries and I was looking at a map, the engine idling in front of the store.

He came out and climbed in, handing me a new canvas bag, saying "Here, for the trip."

"What's this?" I asked, "I already have my camera packed."

"There's a new camera in there, a flash unit, 20 rolls of film and lots of extra batteries for everything... the camera has a couple of extra lenses you might like, try it out and let me know what you think," he said.

"Thank you," I said as I kissed his cheek.

"Remember, no hitchhikers, watch the gas gauge, and call me once a week collect to let me know you're ok," he said, an odd catch in his voice. I thought I might cry if I dragged it out, so I gave him a quick hug and said, "I will."

"And if you need anything you call anytime, ok?" he asked as he got out and shut the door. I nodded and smiled, dropping the lever into D and easing away from the curb. I don't have a photograph of him standing on the curb waving as I left, but the image of him in the rearview mirror doing that is indelibly burned into my memory.


I took side streets out of town and hit route 26 south, avoiding the Interstate. Slow to accelerate and difficult to stop, the camper was unwieldy until I got used to the way it handled. The first night was spent in a campground near Joliet, not that far from home in miles, but a planet away in emotional distress. It took me over an hour to repack everything in it's proper place for travel after I showered, and I decided that in the future I would shower elsewhere.

For the next week, I kept the camera on the seat and drove the back roads slowly, stopping at every garage sale and bake sale in every small town I came across. Chatting with the gray-haired old ladies as they touted the virtues of their brownies or pies and urging me to buy more, I laughed with them as I patted my hips and said no. I took pictures of nature and some funny signs, along with various people who looked interesting.

I was aimed vaguely south, I wanted to see where the rivers joined at the bottom of the state, but I was in no hurry. Several days passed without a thought of Margie or anyone else, although each night I caressed myself to sleep with an orgasm or two. Daytimes were spent driving and negotiating the ever-present construction zones, sometimes pulling off at a rest area to check the map.

Springfield was nice, but a bit too big. Carbondale was full of college kids, noisy and rowdy as they drove past me at breakneck speed. Coming into Cairo I splurged and spent the night at a motel, taking two showers and refilling the coolers with ice. I noticed that I still had plenty of beer, my alcohol intake had dropped by two-thirds, and I felt better. I slept the night in a big bed where I could sprawl out, the pillows tucked between my legs a poor imitation of another body. I was still lonely, but it wasn't the destructive kind, I would survive.

In the morning I saw the confluence of the rivers, two muddy bodies of water forming one, and checked it off my 'to do' list, it wasn't nearly as impressive as I had been led to believe.

Swinging back north I crossed into Indiana, spent two days in Indianapolis at the Speedway museum, then took the Interstate across to Saint Louis and looked at the arch. I used two days wandering around the Ozarks, (VERY pretty!) and then headed east again.

On the first of June I was back in Illinois driving the back roads when I came to a T in the road. The sign said "Potter's Lake Campground" with an arrow to the left, and "Quigley, pop. 450" to the right. I'd only spent minutes whenever I could spare them for tanning and being lazy, and it looked like the perfect opportunity to indulge myself.

Turning left, I began my search for the campground. After a few hundred yards, I saw another sign with an arrow pointing straight ahead and the edge of the lake. About a mile around, it was ringed with trees that looked cool and inviting.

Driving up to the entrance I spotted the office and several cars parked behind it. There were about 30 or 40 kids in the water nearby, being watched by a lifeguard and their parents, mostly women. I paid the fees and asked the man for a spot as far as possible from the entrance.

He yelled "Jeremy!" and a kid about 14 came out and jumped on his bike, waving for me to follow him. I did so slowly, easing the camper over the ruts in the road until we came to the last cleared area. Jeremy was standing there pointing toward the trees, and I turned the camper around to back it in.

Jeremy was helpful, guiding me back until the rear was about two feet from the closest tree, then yelled "Shut it off!" I did, then opened the door. Jeremy asked "Where's your jacks?, I'll help you set it up." I opened the compartment underneath and showed him, then helped as he expertly brought it up level. Finished, I thanked him and handed him a five dollar bill, shaking his hand. He blushed and stammered "Not supposed to take it Pa says."

"You go ahead, you did good," I replied. Blushing again, he hopped on his bike and pedaled off in the direction of the office.

I unpacked, putting the coolers under the picnic table and plugging in the electric cord. If my stay here was to be any length at all, I wanted comfort. An hour later I was set up and decided to take a swim. I had packed three suits, a very daring bikini with minimal coverage in orange, a modest bikini in white, and my 'granny' suit, the old black one-piece tank I'd had since high school.

I put on the white one and walked to the water, wading in to about chest level. It felt like a bathtub, warm and inviting. I dunked myself a few times and waded out, shaking my hair. I sat on my lounge chair near the picnic table and opened a beer, listening to the shouts and laughter in the distance. I thought the one thing that would make the experience complete was some company of the female variety. My inner self said 'give it time, give it time.'

Supper was hamburgers on my grill as I watched the sun set, peaceful and growing quiet. The cicadas started thrumming and I heard other sounds, campers doing dinner, the occasional shout for a child, the blare of a horn on the highway. Gathering my things I walked to the office to take a shower and get ready for bed. As I walked in to get the key, I noticed a lot of activity in the game room and store, Jeremy was behind a counter giving out quarters for the arcade and his father was punching the keys on an old cash register.

The shower area had four stalls and 2 toilets, with a large mirror behind a pair of rusty sinks. The stalls had curtains, but anyone sitting to pee would be exposed. I was alone, so I shed the bikini and began soaping up, paying special attention to my crotch. I came softly before the hot water ran out and dried off, wrapping myself in my big terry robe. The mosquitoes bothered me on the walk back, making me reconsider my earlier decision to park so far away. Two beers later, sleep came quickly, the light breeze coming in the screens.


There was a rhythm of sorts to the days, by 10 in the morning the swimming area by the entrance would be full of laughing children and their Moms, mostly local folk from Quigley. The overnighters sometimes left early in the morning, waking me despite their best efforts to be quiet. Weekdays were the busiest with locals, and weekends the place was full to the brim, people even parking right next to me. I chatted with a few, the different accents from around the country making the conversations lively and interesting.

I took pictures, wandered through the woods behind the camper, and sunbathed every day. Weekdays I could get away with the skimpy suit if I laid out on the far side away from view, but weekends I had to wear the more modest suit or risk glances of disapproval from other visitors. I called my Dad as promised each week, talking for about 20 or 30 minutes each time, telling him of my adventures.


2 weeks later I was as brown as I was going to get and bored out of my skull. I'd managed not to get any tan lines on the top half of me, but my butt was still as white as snow, as even partial nudity was frowned upon. I'd used over half of my film on the local flora and fauna and some interesting rock formations, but I was rapidly running out of ideas. I still had almost two months to go, and debated whether to move further north or go east and find another spot. That night, things got a little more interesting and I put off my decision.

I usually showered around dusk, 7 or so, then spent some time in the arcade, seeing if I could beat the high scores posted on some of the games. I was in the shower when I heard the door open and shut. I shut off the water and grabbed my towel from the hook, drying myself inside the enclosure. As I stepped out, a very beautiful woman was slipping her panties from her hips and looked at me, the "O" of her mouth displaying her surprise. I had wrapped one towel around my hips, using my second one to cover my breasts. Lithe and trim, her tan lines were distinct and sharp. Her dark bush was neatly trimmed to fit inside a suit, concealing her labia. Her breasts were pretty cones with uptilted ends, the tiny dark pink nipples pointing skyward. I thought the sexiest thing about them was that one aureole was slightly larger than the other.

"Hi!" I said as I offered my hand, "I'm Ginny Bergstrom."

She shook my hand and said "I'm Lauren, Lauren Morgan." Unable to stop myself, I looked her up and down, making her blush.

"Excuse me," she said, and disappeared behind the shower curtain. I smelled expensive perfume as I dried off, waiting for her to finish. The water shut off after a couple of minutes and I heard her ask "Hand me my towel, please?"

"Sure, here you go," I replied, putting the corner of it into her outstretched hand. Soft rustling noises ensued, and she stepped out. The towel was wrapped around her breasts and hung to just below her pubes, neatly concealing her body. I had my robe on and smiled at her as she reached for hers, wrapping it and tying it tightly before the towel came out from underneath.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I said.

"That's ok, Bud told me there wasn't anyone else in here, I didn't expect you, that's all," she replied.

As I opened the door to leave she asked "Is there anywhere close by I could get some whiskey?"

"No, you're in a beer and wine county I think," I replied.

"Ok, thanks anyway," she replied.

I walked back slowly, replaying the tape of her body in my mind, the tight curves, the pale skin, the long braided hair. She didn't know it, but she was going to play a major role in my fantasy that night before bed. A few minutes later I was sitting at my picnic table drinking the last of my beers for the day and I saw a pair of headlights coming towards me. Stopping at a spot a hundred feet away, I heard the rattle of Jeremy's bike chain as the car backed in and shut it's lights off.

She opened the hatch and took out a box, handing it to Jeremy. When she bent back inside, I could see it was Lauren, throwing things around and looking for something. I grabbed my flashlight and walked over, asking "You need some help?"

"Yes, I seem to have lost my flashlight," she said. I held my light as Jeremy unfolded a small tent and set it up, pegging the stakes firmly. He accepted her tip and rode off, leaving us in silence.

She seemed nervous and jittery while she moved things around in the car, picking items of clothing and folding them.

"I've got a bottle of brandy," I said, "if that will do instead of whiskey."

"Thanks, I really need one," she replied, "I'll be there as soon as I change clothes."

I walked back to my camper and got out the bottle, dusting it off and getting two glasses. I heard her tap on the door and said "Come in, it's open."

Her dark blue shorts were flattering to her legs and the matching top covered her completely, making her appear to be a different person. She was barefoot and slightly shaky as she sat and accepted the offered glass, drinking half in one gulp.

"Thank you, I'll pay you back tomorrow," she smiled.

"No need, I like beer myself," I said, holding up my bottle.

Pointing at her toes, I said "I've got a swim suit that color."

"Really?" she asked, "Orange?"

"Yep, not much chance to use it around here though, doesn't cover much," I replied grinning.

"Mmm," she said, taking another deep swallow. I handed her the bottle and she refilled her glass, taking a sip before putting the bottle down.

I smelled the expensive perfume on her again and said "I don't mean to be nosy, but you don't seem to be the camping type."

"It's that obvious, huh?" she laughed, a smile lighting her face for the first time.

"Mmm-hmm," I replied.

She said "You're right, I'm not, but I'm going through a divorce and my lawyer told me to hide for a few days."

"Good Lord, girl, what are you doing hiding here?" I asked, "You should be at the Hilton with room service!"

"Nope, can't be in an obvious place, he's a doctor and he's got people out looking for me," she said.

"Where did you come from?" I asked.

"Springfield," she replied.

"Christ, that's over a hundred miles away!" I exclaimed, "his reach can't be that far!"

"My lawyer said not to take a chance, so here I am," she said, swallowing again.

"Big custody dispute, or what?" I asked, puzzled.

"Nope, no kids," she sighed, "that's the problem."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"We tried and tried to have kids with no luck, then we went in for tests and found out MY plumbing is in perfect working order, it's HIS that's fucked up!" she stated.

"Ooohh," I said.

"That's when the problem started, he blamed me for it and he's still unwilling to believe it," she said.

"Been to counseling?" I asked.

"Yeah, and that only makes it worse, I left for a while the first time he hit me, the lawyer says the only mistake I made was going back at all," she said.

"True," I said, "Nobody needs that shit in their life."

I could tell she was getting drunker by the minute, swaying in the chair and guzzling steadily. I emptied my bottle and got another, sitting down closer to her.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" she wanted to know.

"Mmm-hmm," I replied.

"Are you a lesbian?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied, using the most matter of fact voice I could muster, " does that bother you?"

"Are you with somebody?" she asked, looking around.

"No partner at the moment," I replied.

She was quiet for a few seconds and then said "I saw you checking out my tits in the shower, I was curious."

"I'm sorry if I offended you," I said, "but they're pretty, that's what us girls do," I smiled.

"Well, at least I'm still attractive to somebody, my husband used to call me "The Titless Wonder", she said.

"They're just as big as anybody else's," I said, "certainly as big as mine, maybe he needs his glasses checked." She giggled at that and said "I appreciate it, I really do."

"My pleasure," I replied.

We talked for a while and I told her a little about myself and the fact I was on vacation. She was a good listener, but she seemed sad and upset about the divorce instead of happy she was out of harm's reach.

About midnight the conversation died, so we sat and drank without talking for the better part of an hour, her head hanging down and the tears dripping on the back of her hand. She was grieving something, the loss of security or the relationship, maybe she had loved the guy at one point, who knew? I'd been there and done that, so I let her cry. She sniffled and looked at me, the pain in her eyes showing.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" she asked, so softly I almost couldn't hear.

"If you want," I said.

"I've gotta pee first," she said, trying to stand up.

"Bathroom's that way," I said, pointing. She stumbled a few times and groggily walked back to the toilet after emptying her glass. I put the bottle away and folded out the bed, getting a nightie for both of us while I waited.

She came out naked, her clothing nowhere to be seen. She reached for me and hung her arms around my neck, trying to kiss me. I held her back and said "Here, put this on, it gets cold sometimes at night," handing her the nightgown. She couldn't find the bottom of it to pull it over her head, so I helped her with it and sat her down on the edge of the bed.

"No naked?" she mumbled.

"No naked," I said firmly, and guided her down to the pillows, rolling her over to face the window. She curled her knees up a bit, folded her arm under her head with a deep sigh, and passed out.

I went back to the bathroom, expecting a mess. Her clothes were neatly folded on the toilet seat, the pale blue silk panties on top. I picked up the pile and sat down, relieving the pressure on my bladder as I held her stuff in my hands. I sniffed the panties, inhaling a cinnamon scent along with her unique odor of perfume and soap. Placing them back exactly as I had found them, I flushed and went to the front. I got myself another beer, then sat down to watch her sleep for awhile.

Her breathing was erratic with a lot of sighs and groans, small body movements and a cry now and then, but she slowly calmed and went through her dream stage, falling into a deeper sleep. I went pee again and crawled in behind her about 3 in the morning, snuggling up to her warm butt.

I woke up at 10, the sunlight warming my knees through the window. I got up and peed again, made coffee without waking her and took the pot outside, sitting at the picnic table in my robe.

About 11 she walked out of the camper, looking exactly like a 6 year old fresh out of bed.

"Mornin', sleepyhead... how do you feel?" I asked.

"Nothing a bottle of aspirin and a brain transplant won't cure," she giggled. She got herself a cup and sat across from me, her hands steady as she drank.

"Hot today," she said.

"Will be," I replied. We sat in silence for a few moments and she said "About last night..."

I held up my hand and said "My lips are sealed, your secret is safe with me," smiling and trying to put her at ease.

"It's not that, it's... well, you could have and you didn't, and I don't know whether to be grateful or disappointed," she said, her smile taking the sting from the words.

"You wouldn't have known it if I had, you were pretty out of it," I said.

"Maybe, but I'm not a prude... last night for a few minutes there I was hoping you'd kiss me," she said.

"Why, so you could say you got kissed by a lesbian?" I giggled.

"No," she said suddenly serious, "so I could kiss you back... a small thank you for being there for me."

"I'd do the same for anyone," I said.

"But it was for me, not anyone," she replied, her big brown eyes staring at me over the rim of her cup.

We sat watching the clouds roll by for awhile and drank the rest of the coffee. I got up to make another pot and maybe make some toast, then change into my suit. I took off the robe and hung it when I walked in, thinking she would stay outside. The coffee was perking and the toast had popped up when she walked in and gave me a very frank look, inspecting me from head to toe, then walking around me to do the same to the other side.

"Did you know that you are the only true genuine blonde person I've ever met?" she asked.

"Unh-uh," I replied, my mouth full of toast.

"S'true," she said as she walked to the bathroom.

I got my suit off the rack and put it on while I finished the toast, then yelled "Coffee's ready!"

She appeared in her clothes, the blue silk panties once again nestled against her pubic hair. I couldn't see them, but I knew they were there. A twinge of desire fluttered inside, and I shuddered with it, trying to shake it off.

Brushing her hair, she said "I've got to go to town and buy a few things and call my lawyer, is there anything you need?"

"A bag of ice and some beer, but I can get that here," I replied.

"Ok, see you later, maybe we can go for a walk or something?" she asked.

"Sure, I'll be here," I said.

Without warning of any kind she stepped close to me and kissed my cheek, startling me.

"Bye!" she said, smiling and backing toward the door. I watched through the window as she drove out, her hand waving at me.