Laura stood up after draining her mocha to its chocolate lees. The Japanese girl clicked on the next episode of her anime, while she gave her another polite nod connoting goodbye, tossing her silken black ponytail hither and thither. Laura looked around for the trashcan and spotted it next to the door of the Starbucks.
The Indian business boy gulped as Laura's eyes met his, and then looked away. She got a distinct high school vibe from him. She smiled and tossed her empty mocha cup in the trash. A tall gentleman in his seventies with silver hair, thumbtack thick glasses and a warm smile held the door open for her, as she exited while he entered. She thanked him and went into the parking lot of the Starbucks. She had a plan now. The caffeine had stimulated her little gray cells, and she knew that she had a whole list of things to do just then. She would find out shortly that her plans would all go to hell, but she didn't know that then.
First, she would search for someone to satisfy the throbbing itch between her legs. Agreed, she felt she should find a decent man. However she was virtually immortal now, as long as she stuck to her end of the bargain. Love was important, but what is a life without a healthy helping of mindless lust? Love is the main course, while mindless lust is the dessert.
Second, she had to create a new identity. She couldn't use the name Laura Lioness anymore. Perhaps it would be safe to change her name entirely. She didn't have contenders for her name. Alternately, she was used to responding to Laura, so perhaps changing her last name was enough. When she had post or paperwork, she could easily recall her new last name, and when someone called her Laura, she could respond naturally, without having to get used to one of those newfangled pretty young thing names like Piper or Dallas.
What the fuck sort of name is Piper for a young lady anyway, she thought to herself, as she walked along a walkway that ran parallel to the Hudson river. Did young ladies play pipes a lot more these days? And Dallas - please! Don't fuck with me, that's a city not a girl!
Third, she had to solve for herself the mystery of the sisterhood, and the miracle of what was happening to her. Of course she wanted to solve it only if she could do it without giving up her newfound youth. This so called sisterhood was very, very mysterious, and left many questions unanswered. For instance, she wondered whether Madame Juliette had been truthful about the magic unguent's origin. It was supposedly concocted from herbs from so many different remote regions on the planet, but something about the formidable madame's words bothered Laura. She also wondered what the purpose of the sexual massage Julianna had given her was? Was that what had wrought the change in her instead of the so called unguent? Come to think of it, what was the purpose of their chanting French swear words while she was undergoing her massage? And why was she shown an image of Madame Juliette that appeared to be from the eighteenth century or earlier, and why was she asked not to think about it? It was all extremely odd.
She was lost in thought and started, as a young man with dark brown hair and a green Gap teeshirt came towards her on skates. His tee said 'GAP' in white letters. He flashed his pearly whites in her direction as he zipped past her, and she realized the enormous dollop of lust in his eyes. She was used to it by now, and knew not to worry about it, or to feel disgust at it. It was perfectly natural for men to view her with lust. She hadn't paid attention, but she must have received looks of lust from women too. New Jersey's lesbian and bisexual population isn't exactly zero. Besides, a straight woman can find another woman attractive. Nothing wrong in a little crush on a member of your own sex.
The butterflies that loved her hair or their kinfolk returned to greet her, and she saw seagulls circling overhead. A ferry was heading out towards the big apple in the distance and the circle of seagulls were disturbed by its rude horn and scattered and flew away to wherever seagulls vanish when they panic. A warm breeze blew from the Hudson and unsettled Laura's dark, shiny hair. She looked out again, and wondered what she would do with the rest of her eternal life.
She wondered about what the grander picture that Madame Juliette was talking about, and what that long lip to lip kiss had been about. Oddly enough she had been intensely turned on by it, but she had suppressed the emotion when it happened. In all her fifty seven years, she had been very, very heterosexual. So being turned on by the kiss of a lady was anathema in some way.
On a lark, she decided to take the ferry to the city. Whatever sensations she had been experiencing as a hot, voluptuous woman this side of the Hudson would be amplified many times the other side. It was a simple stimulus response thing. She was entirely sure that wouldn't be a good thing, but she started walking in the direction of the ferry terminal nonetheless.
She purchased a ticket and a bottle of AquaFina in the terminal, and awaited the next ride, due in ten minutes. It was an interesting wait, with a little girl with sparkling eyes and blonde pigtails playing hide and seek with her. Laura was grateful for the change of pace and the warmth provided by the small comfort. When the ferry came and made scramble for the dock started in typical Tristate area fashion, the little girl vanished as her rail thin mother dragged her along.
Laura took her time. Externally she was hot young thing, but internally she was still fifty seven. That meant that in spite of her cantankerous nature, and everything else that had soured in her previous life, she still had a lot of hindsight that she meant to use now. She tried paying attention to everything around her as she walked to the boarding dock. The wisdom of the winter of one's life is rarely combined with the vigor of its summer, but when such a combination happens, its possessor experiences a heady sensation of raw power. Plus it is the rare case of opportunity knocking twice.
A lot of the people boarding the ferry were people in dark suits, black shirts, black dresses, gray flannel.To Laura it appeared that everyone was wearing black or gray. It appeared to be a contemporary urban fashion statement. Black is the new in-color, and people choose black or gray when they want to be assured of blending in with the crowd so that they can have their blessed anonymity. She looked down at her own black dress and felt mildly ashamed for having unconsciously danced to the mantra of the crowd.
A tall flaxen haired man made great show of making way for her, and she saw the gleam of a turgid cock in his eyes, as he edged a hunched up ancient gentleman out of the way. Laura ignored him, and invited the ancient gent in front of her, and the lad looked flustered as if his character had been sullied. He stayed angry.
She sat with the ancient gent during the ferry ride, wondering about how she would use her newfound youth. Youth is a precious thing, and she had all but frittered it away the first time around. This time she was going to be very careful. Even though that itch between her legs asked her to do certain things, and she would, she was also going to do right by herself and the world. She was a little annoyed with the constant vacillation she was putting herself through. First she wanted a great love story, then she wanted a hard cock to get rid of the ever worsening itch between her thighs, and now again she wanted a great love story. Calm down Laura, breathe, she told herself, crossing her legs.
The ancient gent told her about how the lurches of the ferry made his stomach roil, and she patted his arm. She knew how that felt from firsthand experience, although just then she was healthier than a crossbred ox. When they disembarked, she accompanied him in the swell of the exodus from the ferry. A few minutes later she boarded the bus that took them to midtown, while her old new friend took one that took him uptown. She had a loose plan. It was to spend some time in her old haunt, the midtown Barnes and Noble, while she soaked up the city's urban gestalt and gaged the general reaction to her new form. It was, as it were, a test drive.
As she was boarding the bus, she saw that it was very crowded today. There were few seats available. Then she saw him. He had hair that was a mix of brown and blonde, and completely natural, however that might be. His eyes housed storm clouds, as though Zeus and Poseidon were battling for supremacy. His skin shone a healthy bronze. He was what some people might call 'a tall drink of water'. The itch between her legs went off the charts, and she knew that she wanted him in her life.
He vacated his seat, saying, "Please."
She was about to take the seat, when he gave her a warning look. She glared at his rudeness for moment, as she stopped herself. Next to her was a woman who appeared to be in her eighties, with mottled and wrinkled skin, silver hair with occasional red strands, and a spine that would be a candy cane any year now. Laura was embarrassed and turned red in the face, saying something silly under her breath to fill the space where she had just lost face.
"Thank you, young man," the elderly lady said, as she took the seat.
Laura was still red in the face, and tried to look away from him. Of course. Gosh darn it! What was she thinking! She was no longer fifty seven, and not everybody offered seats to voluptuous young women in preference to more deserving cases. Nonetheless, her willingness to swoop in, without paying attention to those around her, made her feel red in the bottom.
The stormy eyes were trained on her just then. She knew that he was looking at her, but she was too embarrassed to meet his gaze, as they stood during the bus ride, holding onto the handrails. She looked in another direction. An older gentleman who must have been a wrestler earlier in life smiled at her, confident in his skills with the ladies. She smiled back noncommittally and looked away, wondering whether she was his daughter's age or his granddaughter's.
The storm clouds were gathering in her direction. She felt it almost as it happened. She looked in his direction just as he looked away. She was relieved and yet she was annoyed that she had just missed out on eye contact. Her emotions were currently doing a roller coaster that was had just been caught in a typhoon. She wanted him to look in her direction, but she was scared that he would look in her direction. He looked in her direction.
His gray eyes met her hazel ones and a moment passed between. A moment of acknowledgment perhaps, or maybe a moment that carried some strange, implicit knowledge of the future in it. Whatever it was, it was a moment that was significant. He held her gaze and smiled. She felt flustered, feeling something in her stomach. Perhaps this was what people called butterflies.
She struggled with feeling, trying to maintain her gaze. She wanted to say something to him. He was exactly what she wanted. Besides, he had just offered his seat to an elderly lady in preference to a hot young thing, so clearly he had what she was looking for.
"You're headed to Barnes and Noble aren't you?" he said.
She was equally startled that he had addressed her, and that he knew where she was headed.
"How did you figure that out?" she said, feeling annoyed that he had somehow deduced it. She immediately contemplated changing her destination, so that she could show him.
"Your dress, your attention, lots of things," he said.
"My dress and my attention?" she was at a loss for words.
The power in his gray eyes was palpable, and it was difficult to retain mental faculties in its ambiance. She was trying. As if getting used to a new body was not challenging enough, he was here. The itch was getting maddening just then.
"A girl who dresses in her mother's clothes must be quite the introvert, or perhaps she just doesn't care what people think about her," he said, "but I think you're the former; because you aren't comfortable in crowded places, and retreated into your inner land a few minutes ago. If you're taking the midtown bus, either you're meeting up with a friend there, or you're visiting a place introverts would enjoy - like a bookshop perhaps. You're not meeting a friend, because the buzz of someone meeting up with a friend is different. Especially if you're an introvert, you tend to force yourself out of your shell in preparation for your meeting. You're deep within your shell, so you must be going to bookshop that is midtown. There is a giant Barnes and Noble midtown. Where else could you be going?"
Her mother's clothes! That was right. Her dress was tight on her, and made curvaceous and all of that, so much so her bosom and her buttocks threatened to spill out. But it was the sort of dress someone far older would wear. And the attention span… who was this guy? Derren Brown meets Sherlock Holmes? He was an expert body language reader clearly, and his deductive skills just made his stormy eyes even sexier. It annoyed the shit out of her.
"You figure everything out, don't you," she said in a sarcastic voice.
The storm clouds just had a flash of lightning through them, and she trembled. She had taken a liberty with someone she had just met, all because of her flustered and confused state of mind. Then his eyes took on the look of Tom playing with Jerry.
"Perhaps," he said, "I'm sure you're going to the Barnes and Noble though."
"OK, I am," she said, "you win."
"Sorry," he said. "I was only trying to strike up a conversation. You seem to be going through something."
Her mind teetered again. This was so much harder than simply getting ox like Julianna to massage unguent into her sex so that she could turn back the biological clock. Another look into his gray eyes, and she wondered what it would be like to kiss him right there.
She didn't. She was still fifty seven, and she didn't know the first thing about flirting. That had happened a lifetime ago, and the deceased asshole had been a neighbor's son. He had been handsome as a young man, and had asked her out. Her horny teen cunt had fancied him immediately, and they'd run off to a chapel a few months later to be wedded in unholy matrimony. So she had never worked on her flirting skills.
The bus stopped off midtown, and she knew she had to get off. She hoped that he was getting off here too. He was.
"Sorry," she called after him, "I'm Laura."
They were midtown, and he was walking in the direction of the Barnes and Noble as well, but a few steps ahead of her. He was speeding up, having assumed that she wanted to be left alone, but on hearing her voice he turned around. She extended her right hand in his direction.
"I'm Laura," she said.
"I'm Ralph," he said, giving her a sunny smile.
Storm clouds and sun; she wondered if she'd see a rainbow just then. Her body responded to his touch, as they shook hands. She felt something burst between her legs. It was as though her store of honey was being released at an uncomfortable pace. She gasped, and then caught herself mid-gasp.
"Are you headed to the B&N too?" she said, trying desperately to bring her brain back into the game, while her loins kept pulling her south.
"I am," he said.
Oh no, no, no! This was all wrong! She was dripping wet next to a man she fancied, and she was going to have close to zero conversational skills if she didn't get her head out of her cunt.
They walked into the Barnes and Noble. It was the biggest one in the city with three floors and a ton of categories. She excused herself to get to the restroom, and asked him what section he would be in. He said he'd be in the travel section. She nodded, smiled, and headed off to deal with her fractious loins.
She stared at herself in the restroom mirror, making eye contact with herself.
"Laura, get your head out of your cunt," she said, maintaining eye contact with her reflection.
She repeated it a few times, while her pussy still throbbed dangerously. It wasn't working. She slapped herself. She heard the sound of flushing, and a young Asian girl joined her at the mirrors and the washbasins, giving her a scared look. She nodded at her, not really caring whether she received her response. Operation cunt control was well under way, and was failing miserably.
Since it wasn't happening, and she couldn't well ask Ralph to fuck her right there in the Barnes and Noble, Laura did what any self respecting lady would do in her situation. She entered a stall in the little ladies' room, and started masturbating. Ralph may get suspicious on account of the duration of her visit, but the itch in her cunt was gargantuan, and she was worried that if she saw him again in her present state, she would be charged with assault and attempted rape shortly thereafter.
Someone was occupying both stalls next to her. She panicked for a moment. How could she finger herself to la petit mort while she was in close proximity with two strangers? Somehow the horror of her situation only turned the crank up on her loin heat.
She sat on the commode, after having pulled down the complicated mechanism of her black outfit. The skirt that it came with landed unceremoniously around her ankles, which was uncharacteristically unhygienic for her. Her gray panties had turned a darker shade of gray for the most part, soaked in her juices. She left them on, but moved them out of the way, and inserted two fingers into her wet, nubile cunt. Her labia was engorged, and tight, and sensitive to her touch. It was fantastic having a young cunt. She let out a light moan, and then stopped herself, remembering her neighbors.
She imagined what Ralph's cock must be like. If height and cock size were actually related, then Ralph would more than fill her. She sighed audibly, and sensed that both her neighbors knew that she was doing naughty in her stall. Their breathing changed, and that was enough to tell her that they had probably deduced her fingers in the cunt act. She imagined Ralph again, and his stormy eyes, and her cunt, as if on cue, tightened around her two fingers. She gasped again, this time because of how strong her new cunt was, and how much pleasure she felt just then.
She had little choice but to give herself up to her loins. She plunged a third finger into her, as her cunt unclenched, and in response it clenched again. She felt fuller now, and started working her fingers in and out of her wet pussy, and moaned as she did it. She imagined that she had Ralph's cock between her legs just then, and she imagined him fucking her doggy style. She heard a low cough of disapproval on her right, and a softly whispered 'yeah girl' on her left. She was even more turned on.
Her cunt felt so raw as she fingered herself. She increased her pace, and sighed a few times, and the disapproving woman on her right muttered something and flushed, and started the bustle that accompanies a rushed exit from a restroom stall. Laura felt nothing for her annoyance, except a passing feeling that her neighbor needed to unclench her asshole. She imagined herself mouthing Ralph's cock next, and felt a giddy flush as she did.
She fingered herself further, and touched her swollen clit and let out an involuntary moan. She heard a low moan on her left, and froze for a moment. Her neighbor was masturbating as well! Then she felt the heat in her loins rocket again, and her cunt gave her fingers a tight squeeze. She imagined what Ralph's balls felt like while she tea bagged them. She wondered if he had little brown and blonde hairs on his balls, or whether he was clean shaven.
Laura's brain went completely offline, and this time, she well and truly surrendered to her desire. She poked, prodded and fingered pussy, ratcheting up the pace, and simultaneously tried to gain some volitional control of her cunt muscles, which appeared to have their own mind. She moaned in pleasure, feeling that itch being met, while she imagined Ralph's tongue wiggling around inside her pussy and heard her neighbor sigh.
Her fingers darted in and out, and she grabbed and crushed her left breast with her free hand, desperately trying to stop herself from screaming out loud. Her neighbor was nearing her climax as well, and she heard her moan at an increasing pace, interspersing her moans with frequent 'oohs', 'aahs' and 'yeses'. Somehow that added to Laura's horniness, and her loins throbbed treacherously. She knew that her climax was nigh.
She moaned her loudest yet, as someone took the stall to her right, and muttered something angry. She didn't have the capacity to react just then, and felt her loins explode. A spasm of pleasure erupted between her thighs, engulfed her thighs, and traveled outward, until it was a simultaneous high that had every last inch of her body in its ecstatic maw. She didn't hold back from her moan, and the neighbor who was accompanying her in her climax moaned as well.
"Ooh yeah baby," she heard her neighbor say, while the other neighbor muttered something.
She realized that she was back on earth now, and her fingers were dripping, and her cunt was a holy mess. She had to wash up a little bit. She was glad she had the AquaFina on her just then. She poured a thin stream of water on her cunt, and then used environmentally unhealthy amounts of tissue to wipe herself. Her left neighbor was mopping her own cunt apparently, and she heard the same sounds of toilet paper wiping cunt with fury. When she was done, she realized that her panties were still too wet even after numerous attempts at mopping. She sighed, resigned herself to the feeling of post climactic wet panties, and pulled her skirt on, standing up. Once she was presentable, she stepped out of the stall and went to the mirrors.
A young Latina was standing there, with light brown skin, and hair that she'd dyed blonde. She had a thick build and breasts that were even larger than Laura's. She winked at Laura's reflection in the mirror, while Laura turned on the hot faucet. Laura flushed with embarrassment for a second. Somehow it seemed okay in the stall, but this was bit much. She forced a smile, and washed her hands, and her face. Then she ran from the restroom, while the Latina called after her. She wasn't sure what was being said, because she didn't want to miss Ralph.
She ran! She ran down the escalator, dreading finding the travel section empty. If he wasn't there, she had nothing other than his first name, and an image of his form seared into her mind, and her loins. Other than that, she had nothing. She realized that there is only one thing that is more maddening than an itch in the loins. It is an itch in the loins for only one specific person.
He was there in the travel section, but she didn't heave a sigh of relief. On the contrary, the imaginary world where Ralph was hers came crashing down around her. His back was turned to her, and he was hugging a drop dead gorgeous woman with long, golden blonde hair and blue eyes and black eyelashes that were almost as long as hers. She was supermodel good looking, and dressed in one of those skimpy new outfits that girls wore nowadays, and apparently wanted to keep touching Ralph.
She cursed under her breath. She should have raped Ralph instead of masturbating in the restroom. She felt an irrational surge of anger against the blonde woman, who was probably helping orphans and refugees in her spare time. She didn't know what to do. In her situation just then, she didn't want to face Ralph. She turned around and ran in the opposite direction. Barnes and Noble be damned! Ralph be damned! His storm cloud eyes be damned! And fuck the blonde girl!
He could fuck that blonde girl all he wanted! She didn't give a rodent's buttocks whether he fucked that girl or he fucked someone else. He could fuck the queen of England for all she cared! Hot tears spilled out of her eyes, and Laura ignored concerned voices in the periphery of her awareness. All she knew was that she wanted to take a ferry back home! She wanted to strangle the blonde, and she knew that she had to get a handle on her anger, one way or another.