Asia wasn't exactly a beautiful woman.  Attractive?  Yes.  But not beautiful.  She had a full figure.  Large breasts that, in rebellion to her bra, bounced as she walked and which seemed to leak out of the tops of her low cut shirts.  The curve of her waist led to a more subtle hips and thighs, giving her a top heavy hourglass shape.  She would peek through her low hanging bangs, the rest of her hair always pulled back into a ponytail.  That ponytail always a'swinging. 

Asia and I spent 45 minutes of our day in a gymnastics class together.  At first, I paid her no mind.  This was gymnastics class, the sport that to this day I still love and enjoy.  But slowly she became a point of interest.  I had previously known she was gay.  Her partner, decked out in low hanging loose jeans, Timberland boots and a tight wife beater over a sports bra that camouflaged her already flat chest, would usually be seen with her.  But knowing that bit of information didn't stop me from thinking about her.

I can't quite remember how our relationship started.  It happened almost suddenly.  In one moment there was an understanding of shared affection, the next moment was of embraces.  Our gym class was late into the day, it being the last class for both of us, so we were able to take our time in the locker room.  It was there that almost everything we did together happened.

There was something about that room.  Surrounded by those lockers - its peeling paint revealing several layers of clashing colors - giving us some cover, but at the same time, between its openness and the sound of clicking locks reminding us there was a chance at exposure.  Just beyond the double doors to that room was a different world. Outside she was already in a relationship, but here it was of no importance. Out there my bisexuality was almost a secret, known only to my close friends.  Inside I embraced it, never minding what others thought. 

That room, along with Asia, had confirmed my attraction to women.  The kisses we shared were invaluable.  They were a reassurance that being a lesbian was an OK thing.  They were comforting, even uplifting.  I'd never think simply sharing a kiss or the contact of bare skin could mean so much.  Our not-so-secret secret will forever put a smile on my face.

We spent the last minutes of our school days together for the better part of the semester.  When senior trip rolled around, the wooden bench was exchanged for a cushioned bed, the slamming lockers for a latched door.  But shortly after the school's weekend getaway, the new semester came, changing our courses and displacing us.  Our haven had been taken away and so we separated. 

I'm not sure if she knows just how much she meant to me, how she helped mold and solidify my sexuality.  She contradicted disgusted faces and negative opinions.  She turned my feelings into something of the norm, into something I would no longer fear.  With her soft hands she burned down the walls that kept my bisexuality hostage.  And for that I feel indebted to her.

Fake Christmas trees are made in China, and China is the shit, so buy plastic!
 

I just answered this Featured Question; you can answer it too!

(It was originally slightly too long for a pulse and then I started to ramble.  Oops.)

Let me see if I get this right.

Murdering a fetus (NOT abortion) is wrong because it's not consensual.  Abortion's OK because a woman has a right to her body, yadda yadda, she's the one that asked for it, right to privacy and all that jazz.  That seems to be a reoccurring point.

So if you asked me to kill you and I did it, I should totally be off the hook right?  It was a consensual killing.  Or better yet, if a woman miscarries or stubbornly falls down the stairs, she should be charged (with manslaughter or murder?) because that killing was not consensual, right?

As always, click for larger view.  I wanted to try high key stuffs (I had to do this in my tub to get a truly white and blank surrounding, lol) and this is what happened.

Got any idea for titles?  I'm kinda stumped.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  My titles are shitty (and random).  I know.

These are heavily edited.  While it's fun playing in Photoshop, I don't like to go too crazy on editing.  Oh wells.