Pussy Whipped

It was 3:00 AM on a Thursday night when Maps, with nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, found herself standing on Joshua's doorstep, the buzzer humming under her fingertip. She knew he would still be awake, lost in various physics-related pastimes which normal people wouldn't even understand. She shivered as she listened to his footsteps making their way to the door; she'd forgotten to put on a coat when she'd left her apartment earlier. Oh well. She heard what was probably Joshua muttering to himself, annoyed at being dragged away from his papers. He opened the door and when she saw him standing there, wearing a scowl and no shoes, his hair messed up the way it always got when he studied and raked his hands through it, she couldn't help but burst into tears again.

The frown vanished from his face and was replaced by the worried look he always wore when she told him about something that was bothering her, and that made her feel even worse. She didn’t want to worry him, especially not in the middle of the night, so she tried to get her breathing in check.

“Hi, Josh,” she said.

“Maps.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her inside and out of the frigid air, closing the door behind her. “What’s wrong?” His voice was threaded with concern, and she knew it was no good: she’d be crying all night.

“F-Florence left me,” she stuttered, before breaking into a fresh round of tears.

His whole face seemed to widen with surprise and sympathy. “Oh, shit. Oh, Maps.” He hugged her, and she let her body fold into his because he was so warm and comforting, and also because she couldn’t really breathe properly. He led her into the lounge room, his arms still around her, and sat her down on the sofa. He perched beside her, his face mirroring her pain. “What happened? Why would she do that?” It was a fair question; Maps and Florence had been dating since high school, since awkward attempts at intimacy with boys had confirmed what they already suspected: they were different from other girls. It was a question Maps knew would be asked at some point, and yet she’d still somehow hoped she could avoid it. It hurt far, far too much. But Joshua was one of her best friends, and he deserved to know.

“She met someone else.” Just saying the words made her chest throb with pain.

“What?” Clearly this wasn’t what Joshua had been expecting. He’d probably thought it was the outcome of a lovers’ tiff, but Florence and Maps had something bigger than petty arguments. Had.

“She met her at one of her shows. She told me they’re in love. She’s been sleeping with her for weeks, Josh!” She wrapped her arms around her chest, because otherwise she was afraid her heard would simply explode.

Joshua’s face darkened. “That—“ he began, but then bit off whatever harsh words he’d been thinking, for which Maps was grateful. She wasn’t angry; in fact she’d always had the uneasy feeling that the life she shared with Florence was too good to be true.

“I should have known. I was never what she deserved.” Josh shook his head fiercely, and went to say something, but Maps kept going, even though she was crying so hard she could barely form coherent sentences. “And you know what’s the worst? She – the girl, she’s – she’s older than me! Flo moved out, she took all her stuff three days ago, and I’ve been in the house all by myself, and I can’t even look in the mirror because I know it’s all my fault! If I was just…just better, then she…” Mercifully, the tears choked her throat so badly that she physically could not speak, and so she just cried. She cried for what felt like hours, and Joshua held her the entire time, patient and solid and exactly what she needed him to be. He waited as she sobbed, as she shook, and then as she just lay silently in his arms, tears leaking from her eyes and onto his shoulder. Finally, when her tear ducts had been drained so completely that her eyes stung, he spoke.

“You’re so wrong, Maps.” His voice was quiet and low, right in her ear, and she could hear the emotion in it. “You couldn’t be better. No one could be better than you. You see things in a way that other people don’t. You love so completely and so fully. And you accept everyone, everyone, exactly as they are. And if Florence can’t see that, if she can’t appreciate how extraordinary you are, then…then she isn’t fit to fucking touch you.”

If Maps could have cried any more, she would have. He knew her so well. He knew just what she needed to hear, but at the same time she could always be sure of his truthfulness. She felt incredibly close to him. She sat up and wiped her eyes a little.

And then, without knowing why she did it or even really what she was doing, Maps kissed him.

After a few seconds he pulled back, his eyes round with shock. “Maps, what--” She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her forehead against his. She didn’t want to think any more. Gingerly, she let her fingers rest on his neck, before trailing them down to his chest and coming to rest over his heart. She could feel it beating.

“Please, Josh,” she whispered. She needed him.

He placed his hand over hers, clutching it gently. “But Maps, you – you don’t even like men.” His voice was still gentle. She moved back a little, so she could see him.

“I like you.”

Joshua face froze. But it was true. Sometimes she would find herself staring, transfixed, at his lips, or momentarily entranced by the fluid ripple of the muscles in his arms. She knew he was beautiful, in fact he was the only male she’d ever found remotely attractive, yet she had never thought of him in a sexual way. Until now.

“You…really?” His voice sounded like he wanted to believe her.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, and they both knew she wasn’t just talking about his face. “How could I not?”

Joshua looked down. He was silent for several minutes. And then he shook his head slowly, reluctantly. “Maps, I…believe me, it’s not that I don’t want to, but I can’t. You might…feel that way right now, but in the morning you’d hate me.”

Now it was Maps who shook her head. “I couldn’t hate you, Josh. Not ever. I…I’ve never told anyone this, but I’ve always felt like when you look at me, you see what no one else does.” His face told her that he knew it was true. “And I want you to have something that on one else has had.”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Maps swallowed. This was hard to say. “I’ve never slept with anyone. Not like…that.”

Joshua’s eyes widened again, but this time a scarlet blush coloured his cheeks. “So… you and Florence, you never used…um…”

Maps shook her head, her eyes welling up again. “She said we didn’t need them. She said it was more personal the other way.” She’d thought she had no tears left. How was it possible for one person to feel so much at once?

Joshua could see it in her eyes. “I can’t,” he said again. “You…you still love her.”

Maps shut her eyes. “Help me forget her.”

And when she pressed her lips to his again, he hesitantly kissed her back. It was odd because it wasn’t Florence, but at the same time it was so inherently right because it was Josh. There was an awkward moment where Maps was worried she only felt like this because Josh did look rather feminine, but when she closed her eyes and ran her hands over his arms, she knew that wasn’t it. Things were getting a little flustered – Maps had just shifted so that she was straddling him, her legs wrapped tight around his waist – when he moved his hand to cup one of her small, round breasts. And as he did so, Maps experienced something that she’d never felt before. She wanted Josh, with every cell in her body – her stomach fairly ached with it. She pulled back form him like she’d been burned. Her eyes were huge in her face as she looked at him.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Did you feel that?”

“I know,” he said. He pulled her to him again, and she could feel the curve of his smile pressed against her lips. He found her amusing, and fair deuce – it was funny: a twenty-two-year-old lesbian who was somehow still a virgin. It was also exhilarating, and a little frightening. She was punch-drunk with the headiness of the moment. Surely this much emotion could only lead to heart failure, or at the very least a panic attack. Without letting herself think about it too much, she pulled her dress over her head and let it fall to the floor in a heap of printed cotton. She looked down at her body but it reminded her of Florence, so she kept her eyes locked on Joshua’s as they traveled down the smooth, white skin. She’d always thought of men as rather lecherous and rough, at least in the bedroom, but the way Joshua was looking at her was neither. He looked like he wanted her, certainly, but he was looking very carefully, as if he thought she might change her mind. Finally his hands followed his eyes, sending goosebumps crawling on her skin as he felt his way over her hips, shoulders and back. He unfastened her bra and slipped it off gently, making them both blush. Maps felt like all this exposure of flesh was getting a little one-sided, so she reached out and tugged off his t-shirt. Oh.

His chest was very pale, and when she pressed herself up against him it was smooth and hard, with no fiddly bits to get in the way. It was an unusual sensation, but it made her acutely aware of all her own parts. She wanted to know everything about his body, so she reached down and grasped him through his jeans. Joshua gave a low growl and as she stroked him, feeling the shape of him, he let his head flop forwards to rest on her shoulder.

“That is so weird,” she mused.

Joshua chuckled. “Bad weird?” he asked, grinding up against her slightly as he spoke, making her catch her breath.

“N-no,” she breathed.

Without realizing it, Maps had now ended up flat on her back, with Joshua lying over her and fingering the black lace of her pants. She was glad she’d had something nice on under her dress.

“Maps,” he said, his hand stalling. “I don’t have any, erm, you know…protection.” Maps almost rolled her eyes. Who could think of contraception when both their bodies seemed to be filled with lighting bolts from end to end? (Perhaps there was a reason he was getting a physics doctorate and she was not).

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, batting the issue away with a twitch of her shoulders. “I’m on the pill.”

Joshua raised his eyebrows, like he was wondering why a lesbian would need contraceptives in the first place, but then she pulled his face down to hers again and he forgot all about it, too. Within seconds her pants had vanished (she actually had no idea who took them off or how they did it) and Joshua was touching her like she’d never been touched before. His fingers were longer, of course, and stronger and rougher, but it was something else, too; something powerful that she didn’t even want to question. She was completely his for the taking. She even reached down and unzipped his jeans herself, which surprised them both. He hovered between her legs, sensing the need to pause.

“I think…I don’t know if…I guess it might hurt,” he murmured. “Is that all right?”

“I don’t care.” And she didn’t. She wasn’t sure when this change had occurred, but she wasn’t thinking how she used to. She wasn’t repelled or even scared by Joshua. She trusted him completely; more than that, she wanted him. All of him.

And when he pushed inside her, ever so slowly, it did hurt, but she barely noticed because she was filled with wonder at how it was possible to sleep with one person for years without ever feeling as close to them as someone else could make you feel in one instant. Joshua held her tightly to him, and she held him back, neither of them moving for thirty or so long seconds. And then Maps started to cry again.

“Maps, are you – is it that bad? Shit, I’m sorry, I knew this was - ” Joshua blathered, his face stricken.

“Shut up,” she interrupted, attempting to stifle her tears. “That is not why I’m crying.”

Joshua held her face between his palms. “Then what?”

“Because no one told me…I didn’t know it would feel this…can we just not talk any more?” She couldn’t say just why she was crying. Her emotions were running amok. It wasn’t bad, just so final. But it felt right.

Joshua waited until she was calm. Then he started to move inside her, and then Maps was laughing to herself, because never in her wildest dreams had she even imagined feeling like this. It was like having a part of someone else’s soul – the sweetest, purest part they had to offer. The best part was moving like a mirror image of him, like they were one person. Time seemed to blur until she didn’t know what was what, and suddenly she was stirring deep inside like she’d done so many times before – only this time Joshua was the one making her feel such ecstasy, Joshua was inside of her and a part of it.

And when it was over, Maps was sweaty and a little sore, but most of all relieved. She had no idea why. Joshua left her on the couch momentarily to get his duvet from the bedroom, and she had a moment alone to ponder exactly how she was feeling. And she had to admit she didn’t know. The only thing she could ascertain was that something, some basic part of her nature, had shifted sharply and swiftly. Joshua came back and lay down beside her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and swaddling them both with his quilt. Neither of them said a word, until Maps had a sudden thought that made her break the silence.

“Josh,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Do you like me?”

He laughed softly. “Well. Yes.”

“No, I know you like me as a friend,” Maps backtracked. “But that…I mean, obviously it wasn’t a big deal for you…I mean did you just do that because I asked you to? Or did you actually want to?”

Joshua was silent for a very long time. “Don’t get mad,” he said finally. “But I’ve wanted to do that almost since the first time I met you.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t say any more because her body was fizzling up like bubbles in a glass of champagne. And as they fell asleep on Joshua’s uncomfortable sofa, Maps realized something: they were breathing in time.