Author's Note: This is a short introduction to a multi-part story, with several more chapters on the way. This story is definitely slower paced than many on this site, as I tend to enjoy the anticipation and the build-up as much as the actual sex. This is my first attempt at publishing anything, erotica or otherwise. As such, feedback is highly encouraged.
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It's her smirk that first shakes me out of my daze. That confident, almost arrogant half-smile that lets me know she caught me looking. I hadn't been purposely staring. My thoughts of her aren't the type that should evoke the embarrassment that I feel. I'm a card-carrying heterosexual female, after all. But there is something about this woman that wouldn't let me look away.
My gaze had settled on her unconsciously as I sat in my favorite sandwich shop, eating my lunch. I'd been trying to stop myself from slipping into the mire of self-pity that I've found myself in so often of late. I caught my boyfriend, Paul, cheating on me three weeks ago, leaving my self-esteem in tatters. We had been going through a rough patch, and Paul complained that I was not spontaneous enough... not adventurous enough... boring. Paul would like the woman in front of me. There's nothing boring about her.
I can't help but compare myself to her. If you look at individual features, we're actually very similar: Same height - around 5' 4", same slim build with a few curves where it counts, same dark features and shoulder-length, wavy hair. Even our facial features aren't too dissimilar, once you really look. But taken as a whole, the effect is totally different. She's everything I'm not. And the things that I am, she turns up to eleven.
Whereas I'm quiet and reserved, she practically shimmers. I keep myself in reasonable shape, but she's sleek and toned. I dress for comfort; she is stylish, even a bit edgy. I'm presentable, but she is captivating. I can pull off cute, but she is effortlessly sexy. Sexy as hell. She's the version of me I wish I saw in the mirror. I can feel the jealousy building.
In the weeks leading up to the break up, I had sensed Paul pull away and grow distant. I tried to put more into our relationship: more attention, more space, more understanding, more sex. In the end, what I'd really sensed was Paul hooking up with the fresh-faced new admin at his work. I catch myself thinking that if I was more like the version of me smirking back from across the room, Paul wouldn't have wandered.
God, I hate that smirk! That smirk dared me to break eye contact, which is exactly what I did. I blushed slightly and dropped my gaze... just for a moment. When I looked up, she was gone.
"Pull yourself together, Jules!" I chastise myself. I consider the half-eaten sandwich in front of me and am just about to get up to leave.
"Can I join you?" The voice is light and playful, with a hint of challenge. It has the same confidence as that damn smirk. I don't even have to look up to know it's her. She sits down across the table before I can answer.
"Uh, s... sure" I stammer out, cringing at how meek I sound.
"Thanks! You looked like you could use some company." The last thing I want is her company.
I compose myself a little better, and steel my nerves to send her packing. Looking up to meet her gaze, I... fold. Had I misread her? Where I saw arrogance before, I see only concern and compassion. Her face has the warmth of an old friend.
"Company would be nice." I hear my voice say. "My name's Jules, by the way."
The smile returns as she extends her hand. "What a coincidence, my friends call me J."
It turns out, J is exactly the company I need. I find myself opening up to her as a friend and confidant. I tell her about Paul, about his affair, and even about the comparisons I was making to her previously. We talk for 30 minutes or more, me laying myself bare and her offering comfort and encouragement.
Finally, she looks me square in the eye and says "You need to stop selling yourself short. All those things you think you see in me are in you, too. You just need to break out of your cocoon and spread your wings, Little Butterfly. And I think I can help you."
"How's that?" I'm skeptical, to say the least.
"Let's play a little game. Close your eyes." She stands and walks behind me. I close my eyes as she begins to gently rub my shoulders, the public contact making me self-concious. "Just relax," she whispers in my ear. I feel the tension start to melt away as she continues to work on my knotted muscles. Her upbeat attitude is contagious and I find myself more at ease in her presence.
"Put your hands on the table in front of you." As I do so, I feel her hands start to gently travel down my arms, her face next to mine.