Untitled (For Now)

Untitled (For Now)

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Summary

It just kinda happened....

Summary

It just kinda happened....

Chapter1 (v.1) - Chapter 1

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 05, 2016

Reads: 1021

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 05, 2016

A A A

A A A

It had taken me all day to get myself ready and to the bar on time. 

I'd been stuck at the office for most of the morning.  A few hours worth of contracts to review, T's to cross and I's to dot before sending them out via courier ready for Monday delivery. 

Being an executive in a marketing firm did have it's perks, ie: a fairly decent salary, a company car and of course, the travel.  The down side being the long hours and the constant pressure to meet deadlines.  It wasn't unusual for me to be in my office on weekends and well into the wee hours on some week days.  The job also made it difficult to maintain a relationship beyond the honeymoon phase. That period in the first few months when great sex overrides everything and both parties are more prone to overlooking the other persons faults.  I had yet to meet a woman who was willing to tolerate my occasional (ok, maybe slightly more than occasional) long absences and the middle of the night phone calls to travel off to some far flung country at the drop of hat.

I looked at my watch for 5th time.  8.31pm. Just 3 minutes later than when last I checked.  I hated waiting at the best of times but waiting for a friend in a crowed bar on a Saturday night wasn't my idea of fun, especially when I'd made a considerable effort to be on time for once. It didn't help matters that the place was packed.  I felt a little self concious at being the only woman sitting alone at the bar, nursing a glass of red wine.  

I took a moment and looked around, resolving at least to attempt to enjoy the view.  The bar was filled with women of all shapes, sizes, colours and at a glance I'd say most lesbian sterotypes were being more than adequately represented.

As I surveyed the crowd, I noted how we tended to gather in packs. 

There was your butch pack which mainly consisted of women sporting short hair or shaved heads, buttoned up shirts or tshirts, more than a few with a penchant for waistcoats and ripped jeans. Tattooed forarms and excessive amounts mens cologne wafting through the air. 

There was your androgynous girl pack.  I must admit I had a taste (no pun intended) for these girls on occasion. Usually very pretty with thier own sense of style. A sexy blend of smart/casual.  Skinny low cut jeans with shirts tucked in. Occasionally the odd baggy t-shirt or shirt open with a wifebeater underneath. To be honest this particular pack is so diverse in its fashion choices that I couldn't hope to comprehensively describe it.

There was your Stud pack.  This was the hard tell if they are even women pack.  Surprising very popular with a lot of "spaghetti" straight women, the kind who are always straight until wet.

There was your femme (aka lipstick) pack.  These types of women are my personal favorite and the pack to which I also belong.  I can't speak for all femme's when it comes to describing our fashion/beauty regimes but high maintenence is a pretty accuarate decription in my case.  A girly girl.  More often than not, we're the types of women you look at and never apply the word "Lesbian" too unless you already know that we bat for the all girls team.

I looked at my watch again, 8.52pm.  I was now officially annoyed.  Sarah, a long time friend of mine from high school was well over an hour late.  I wondered if she'd forgotten that she'd suggested this girls night out? She'd always been a little on the impulsive side. Making 2 sets of conflicting plans for the same night wasn't unheard of where she was concerned. I reached for my bag and pulled out my cell phone, unlocked the home screen to search for her number and noticed 2 missed calls and a few texts. 

Text 1: "I am so sorry, can't make it.  Deana went into labor, I'll call you later!!"

Text 2:  "Holy fuck, the baby is on the way! I love you, I'm sorry I had to bail!"

Text 3:  "Call me when you get this bitch!"

Voice mail 1:  Muffled, phone in pocket, accidental dialing noises.

Voice mail 2:  Baby crying, lesbians crying, cooing noises, more lesbians crying.

I couldn't help but smile. My annoyance at being stood up instantly vanished. Sarah and her wife Deana had been trying to get pregnant for a few years.  This little bundle of joy was a long time dream come true and I was overjoyed for them both. 

I typed out a short response to the "Call me when you get this bitch!" text: 

"Congatulations Momma's!  Kiss the little angel for me.  I'll be by to see you all tomorrow.  I love you guys xox" 

I pressed send and wondered if I should have asked how the baby was, was it a boy or girl and if Deana was ok? I'm sure Sarah would have told me if there were any problems so I pushed that thought to the back of my mind. The finding out whether it's a boy or girl part would be much more fun in the morning anyway.

I stuffed my phone back into my bag and looked up to find a woman standing next to me. She was tall, at least 5'11, wearing a stunning shoulderless burgundy dress that stopped just above her knees. Her jet black hair hung down over one perfectly bronzed shoulder. She was staring at me with the most beautiful green eyes I'd ever seen.

"Hi, I'm Brooke. Sorry I'm a little late, the parking isn't that great around here." she said. 

I was a little confused.

"Can I get you another glass of wine?" she asked.  I had no idea who this woman was but she was clearly under the impression that I was expecting her. Since I had no plans for the rest of the evening, I decided to play along and see where this was going.

"Sure, thank you." I replied, smiling back at her.

"Have you been here long?" she enquired.

"No, not at all." I replied, lying through my teeth.  My ass was in the early stages of numbness from sitting on the hard bar stool for so long.

"Oh good, I'm relieved.  If it's ok with you, we'll just have these drinks and then be on our way?"

It was more of a statement than a question.  Who did she think I was? I couldn't exactly ask her at this point.  My only recourse was to play along since I'd already committed myself to this mystery role.  I hoped it wouldn't become something I'd need to call 911 to get out of later on. She certainly didn't look like the serial killer type but you could never tell these days.

"You look beautiful..." she said. Her left hand reaching out to touch my arm. "and that dress is gorgeous."

I was wearing a dark blue Versace dress that I'd bought on sale a few months back but never had occasion to wear.  Until she'd arrived, I'd felt over dressed in this crowd. People just didn't dress up anymore. 

"Thank you." I replied. "So do you."  She smiled in acknowledgment of my compliment, then raised her glass to her full lips and sipped.

I watched as she licked the edge of her glass before lowering it back to the bar.   It was an extremely sexy gesture and one she seemed completely unaware of. Her hand still lingered on my arm and I felt her fingers gently stroke my skin.  She was staring at me with a hint of something sexual behind her eyes and I must admit, I was enjoying it.  I felt I was being appreciated in a way that I hadn't been in a long time.  Tiny butterflies were taking flight in my stomach and I felt a sudden burst of heat between my legs as I shifted a little on the stool. I reached for my own glass.  I needed a distraction, something to do with my hands. 

As I enjoyed the wine, I wondered who Brooke should have been meeting? It clearly wasn't me so where was she?  Who was she? Judging by the conversation we'd had so far, I got the impression that this was some kind of blind date.  It was all very mysterious.  Personally, I'd never have the nerve to go on a blind date.  What if you didn't like the person you were set up with? The thought of having to politely sit through an entire evening with someone you weren't attracted to or even interested in seemed like a major headache to me.

"Are you ready?" I heard her ask. "We should head out if we're going to be there on time."

"Yes, I'm ready." I replied.  I stood up and adjusted my dress while she paid for the drinks. 

Where the hell were we going? What had I gotten myself into here?

"OK, off we go."  she said as she took my hand and lead the way through the crowd, towards the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 


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