Did I Shave my Legs for This?

Author's Note: I haven't done a short story in a while, or a lesbian one at that. The title comes from a song of the same name by Deana Carter. There's a little bit of language and, duh, content (aka SEX!). Oops, I gave the story away. Or not. Just read it. Please? Oh, and reviews make me happy and then I'm nice to my siblings for once. (Ha ha, funny joke).

"Someday I'm going to learn to say no," I grumbled, glaring down at my shoes - pink strappy sandals with an inch heel.

"Oh, come on, Jenna, you look fab," Petra said. She wasn't even looking at me, opting instead to examine her makeup for the eighteenth time in the mirror. As usual, she looked flawless. Me, on the other hand ... I looked like a guy in drag. Petra'd picked the outfit out since I "have no fashion sense whatsoever". A black spaghetti-strap top and a pink skirt that barely reached my knees. The stupid pink shoes. Oh yeah, and I'd had to shave my legs for the first time in five months. I usually only shaved when I was planning on having sex, but since Van was all the way in Asshole, Kentucky (okay, the place wasn't called Asshole, but hell if I could remember the name of the town), that wasn't likely. Van was my totally sexy and perfect girlfriend, who'd made the one stupid decision of her life, and that was to go to college in Asshole, Kentucky, instead of Syracuse, New York, like I'd decided to. Meaning we couldn't see each other as often as we could in high school.

"Are you ready?" Petra tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at me. I licked my lips, regretting it instant as I got the lip gloss on my tongue. It didn't taste like "honey kisses", as it was called. It tasted like crap.

"Petra, I look ridiculous." I'd wanted to wear my hair in the usual ponytail, but Petra had said no and made me leave it down. She tied a pink ribbon as a kind of headband, and part of it was rubbing against my neck, underneath my hair. I wondered what Van would say if she saw me like this. Jenna, you look like a guy in drag. That was what she'd say.

"Whatever. Let's go." Petra, the woman who claimed to be my best friend and who I shared an apartment building with, grabbed her keys and ushered me out the door. I would have been able to knock her to the ground with my awesome Kung Fu skills, but I couldn't do shit in these shoes. I followed Petra out the door and into her cute-but-impractical little red car that she called Martha.

We headed to the club, where we were supposed to be meeting so "totally sexy black guy with an eyebrow ring". Petra described all the men she dated by the color of their skin. "White hippy guy", "Asian guy with pink hair", "Kind of tannish-skinned guy that wears polo shirts". Maybe it was easier than trying to remember their names. That was why I enjoyed being in a committed relationship. I just hated the long-distance part of the relationship. This, of course, segued into thoughts of Van, my Van (her real name was Vanessa, which didn't suit her).

Van, with her short black hair, that Elton John concert t-shirt, white tennis shoes that weren't white anymore because she'd written all over them with permanent markers and her rainbow of jelly bracelets. Van, who was the first girl I'd ever slept with and hopefully the last.

We reached the club in what seemed like no time at all. Once we got in the door, I looked around and decided that we were never going to be able to find Eyebrow Ring Guy in this crowd. I was wrong.

"Hey, there he is!" Petra exclaimed. That was fast.

"Hey, Petra, how's it shakin'?" A tall, extremely muscular African American guy with a gold ring in his eyebrow and a pair of baggy ORANGE shorts came up to us. I was pleased to note that his shorts did not hang halfway down his ass. Instead, they were nested respectably at his waist. I almost hugged him.

"Justin, this is my friend, Jenna." We shook hands.

"Okay, you met your guy. He'll drive you home. I'm leaving." I turned around and didn't even get a chance to take a step before Petra dug her fingers into my arm.

"You aren't going anywhere." She gave me a bright smile. I pondered how to strangle her without leaving fingerprints. We stood around, Petra flirting with Justin and me wondering why we'd come to the club if no one was going to dance.

Then I saw something I was not expecting. Van. Van, in her Elvis t-shirt, the one where he's holding the mike and looking down and where it says "hunk of burning love" in black letters. Van, wearing black jeans and her tennis shoes and looking straight at me. I wanted to hide behind Justin, but she'd already seen me.

"Oh shit," I whispered.

"Hey, Van!" Petra smiled. "Imagine that, huh, Jenna. Bet you weren't expecting to see her here." By the way she smiled, I knew she'd set this up. I didn't care. I met Van halfway, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her wonderful warm mouth, the one I'd dreamed about for the past five months. My hand may have done some wandering, but Van didn't complain.

"Jenna, you look like a guy in drag." Van looked at me with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You don't think she looks sexy?" Petra raised an eyebrow as she asked this, looking at my girlfriend and then at Justin.

"She'd look a lot sexier with them off." Though Van was talking to Petra, she looked at me, the sly half-smile and the slightly raised eyebrow that I'd become used to.

"Okay, you guys are talking sex now," Petra said, wrinkling her nose, "Justin and I are going to go dance. Take her home." I don't know whether she was talking to Van or me, but she took Justin by the hand and led him into the crowd of dancing people.

"I think I will take Petra's suggestion. Those clothes would look MUCH better on the floor than on you." Van took my hand and we left the club, with it's noisy "music" and half-dressed people having sex standing up. I followed Van to her car, a cute little blue thing, totally uncharacteristic of her, except that it got great gas mileage, which WAS typical of Van.

"So, um... I didn't know you were coming." Five months without seeing her and that's all you can think to say? Sometimes I was such a dork.

"Yeah, I know. Petra and I planned it to be a surprise." Well it was a surprise, especially for the fact that Petra and Van had planned something together. I wasn't going to complain about anything, though. Van was here, and we were going back to the apartment to, well ... I was just glad I'd remembered to shave my legs. Petra knew what she was doing after all.

"You know, I never really appreciated Petra's friendship before now," I said, "But I think I'm starting to." Van put her hand on my leg and squeezed it gently. The two of us were silent for the rest of the car ride - me thinking about sex with Van, and Van thinking about ... well, I don't know what Van was thinking about.

Van parked her car in Petra's spot and I let us into the building. I didn't stop to give her the quick tour, and instead led her straight to my bedroom, nearly tripping over a pile of dirty clothes inside the doorway.

"Still as messy as ever, hmm?" Van asked, like she even needed to ask the question. Besides the clothes scattered across the floor, homework papers and text books littered my desk and opened chip packages and coke bottles lurked around the room as well. My bed was fairly clear of clutter, however. I pulled off the uncomfortable pink shoes and tossed them in the corner.

"But you love me anyway." I pulled her close and kissed her, my hands doing some more wandering, maybe a little further now that we weren't in public.

"Mm, stop talking." She attached her mouth to my neck, and it felt so good that I forgot about the hickeys I'd have in the morning. I led her backwards until she'd fallen onto the bed, and I joined her, resting my knees on either side of her hips. I broke the kiss off just enough so that I could slip her shirt off, delighted in the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her small, round breasts and smooth, slightly rounded belly were right there for me to touch and kiss, so I did.

When I ran my thumbs over her nipples, a little moaning noise came from her lips and I smiled, repeating the motion.

"Yours too," she whispered, and tugged at the hem of my shirt. I let her take it off, and even helped her along by pulling the skirt off, too, nearly falling off the bed in the process. Van laughed and grabbed my hips and helped me into a sitting position.

"Does Petra dictate your lingerie, too?" she asked, referring to the lacy and uncomfortable black bra I was wearing. I didn't answer, instead working at the button on her jeans. She put her hands over mine and wordlessly told me she'd do it herself. Within seconds we were both fully undressed, and I got a tiny thrill, like the one I'd gotten the very first time we'd had sex, and every other time afterwards.

Van lay back on the bed and I kissed her neck, reaching a hand between her legs, using my thumb to stimulate her. The beautiful moaning noises that came from her mouth, the bucking of her hips ... that was what made me happy. I loved pleasing my girlfriend. I continued until she climaxed and lay panting. I ran my hand up her stomach and to cup one of her breasts with my hand.

"I love you Jenna," she whispered, cupping my face with her hands so she could kiss me. Then she flipped me onto my back.

"Your turn, sweetie." With a grin, she positioned her head between my legs. And then her tongue ... Van knew what she was doing and just how to get me. I bit my lip and reached my hands to grab for something, coming up with only the bedsheets. In my dreams it hadn't been this good. When I'd been alone and it had been only my hand, it hadn't been this good. But Van ... there was nothing that could compare to her.

And then when it was all over, she pulled the blankets over us and curled up beside me on the bed. I wrapped my arms around her and decided that, for once in her life, Petra had done something useful.

The End

Author's Note- If you notice anything out of place, grammatically incorrect, or confusing, let me know and I'll fix it. This hasn't been beta-read or anything... I just wrote it, read it over once, and posted it. Hope you enjoy!