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Now that I had the summer mostly stretched out in front of me, I had more free time and brain space to devote to my personal life.

Too bad I had to avoid the one place where I could get my feet wet.

I ended up staying at the restaurant for longer than I anticipated. I had a second drink and the bartender almost talked me into a third, but I cut myself off. She kept checking on me and I didn’t think it was my imagination that she was giving me looks of interest. Not that I was going to do anything about it, but still. It was nice to be noticed that way by someone. The sapphic in her recognized the sapphic in me and that was flattering.

In the past when I’d thought about dating, it had been with fear and dread and now there was still some fear, but also nervous excitement. It was such a colossal change that it was hard to explain to someone else.

At least I had Larison. She’d come out as bisexual just before she’d gotten pregnant with Juniper and it had been so confusing for me at the time. It had thrown a spotlight on my own struggles and I hadn’t been ready to deal with all of that at the time.

Since my apartment was so close to the restaurant, I walked home. It was chilly, but I’d worn a thick coat and had gloves and a hat.

Larison was going to be so proud of me, I told myself as I climbed the stairs. I’d gone out, I’d socialized, and I’d done the things that other twenty-two-year-olds did.

“Behind you,” a voice said, and I almost tripped on the top step. I managed to catch myself on the railing and step aside, looking over my shoulder.

Reid.

“Oh,” I said. I wasn’t expecting her back this early. She didn’t usually return until at least three and it was barely midnight.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” she said, yawning and getting her keys out of her bag. She looked drained.

“Long night?” I asked as she fumbled with the lock.

She just grunted and pushed her door open, giving me a little salute before closing it.

Okay then.

I went inside my own apartment and headed for the shower and then my pajamas and bed.

Things were getting steamy in my book and I hadn’t masturbated in a while. I’d been so exhausted with moving and everything else. Plus, there was the fact that now I allowed myself to actually fantasize about women.

For years, whenever I’d give myself the freedom for sexual creativity, my mind had always gravitated toward women. At the time, I told myself I was just comfortable with women’s bodies. They were like mine, so it was a familiar and non-threatening way to let myself explore.

I’d explained and rationalized so many things before I came out.

Now I didn’t have to. Now I was free. Truly free.

Free and frisky. I set my ereader aside and went for the bottom drawer in my nightstand, grabbing my tried and true bestie. My wand vibrator. It was only the second one I’d ever bought, and I’d literally called out of work when I knew it was going to be delivered so I could intercept it before my parents got home. That had been the summer after my freshman year of college, and I’d been absolutely terrified that my parents were going to find out about my new vibrator collection I was hiding under my bed.

Having my own place was the best. I could do whatever I wanted.

And tonight? I wanted to get off. Repeatedly.

This baby was fully charged, and I was ready.

I stripped off my clothes and set out a towel just in case things got a little messy. They usually did, something which used to embarrass me until I found out that a lot of people thought it was a good thing.

I started off with teasing my nipples and gently stroking my stomach before widening my legs and stroking my clit, which was already throbbing and sensitive. I was so wet too. Wet enough that two fingers slid easily inside as I moaned, arching my head back. Fuck, that felt good. So, so good.

The vibrator was right on the blankets next to me, but I was going to get my first orgasm the old-fashioned way.

It didn’t take long before my legs were shaking, and I was crying out as a few tears rolled down my cheeks and my first climax rolled through me.

Not the best I’d ever had, but not the worst. It was time for the big guns.

I started the vibrator on low and hovered it lightly on my skin so it was only a whisper of sensation. Sometimes that worked better than direct contact.