When I was 23 years old, it started out to be one of the darkest periods in my life. I had just graduated from college with a degree in graphic design but I had been slow to find a quality job in the field. Where I lived, there just wasn't anything available. To top off my despair, I had gotten pregnant after a drunken one night stand at a local pub nine months prior.
So possessing little money, living at home with my parents and supporting a huge belly, I was a far cry from my usual spunky self with a 115 pound tight figure. Even my dark blonde hair had seemed to dull in my eyes. When I had the baby, he was a beautiful boy that I named Allen after my father and I was overjoyed. However, my joy didn't last long as I knew I would not be able to financially take care of him, at least in the beginning. My father had gotten a job way up north in an oil field and would spend months at a time away from the family. I loved my son but struggled with postpartum depression that eventually led my mother to suggest a plan.
"Your father's company has an opening and they need to hire someone during the busy season. Britt, I think you should go for a few weeks to get away and get yourself together. Your aunt and I will watch the baby while you make some good money and heal. I really do think you should consider it," my mother advised.
After a several hour discussion and even though I would miss Allen terribly, I agreed with her logic. So by that next weekend, I was packed and with airline ticket in hand, was soon on a jet, heading to a small prairie town many miles from my home. When I landed at an airport nearly an hour away, my father picked me up and drove me to the small town in which we were working. The company had supplied me with a small one bedroom apartment on the second floor above a garage. On the outside of the building, there was a rickety metal staircase leading to an entrance door.
The apartment was furnished and even though it wasn't out of this world amazing, it wasn't bad. My dad helped me carry in my things and as soon as I settled in, we went out for dinner. It was nice to see him and the evening felt more normal than I had felt in a while. After I returned, I put things away while listening to music. I was alone but I considered it a positive isolation to find myself.
That Monday morning, I started working and my job was to drive a pickup truck so that I could run errands, make deliveries, and anything else needed for the workers in the field. It wasn't physically difficult and it afforded me many freedoms throughout the day. One such needed freedom was to pump my boobs on two separate occasions during my shift because they would fill up with milk and ache. My 34C breasts had already ballooned to a D cup and the leaking and heaviness was hindering my performance. I would either perform that task in the break trailer provided on site or I would run home to my apartment. It was an annoyance but a necessary evil.
I soon developed a routine in my day. I would wake up early before work to exercise on my treadmill then yoga. I would pump my breasts during lunch and before I went home. In the evenings I would fix a healthy meal, drink some red wine, Facetime my mother to see my baby before writing in my journal. Within the first week, my spirits were improving dramatically and during the second week, I was gaining self confidence in knowing I was transforming my body back into its old form.
One day, I was driving to town to get lunch for my coworkers and I noticed the power company working on a transformer high on an electric pole in the middle of town. Their truck was blocking half the street while a lineman worked diligently in the bucket trying to resolve the problem. I was fascinated by that so I pulled my truck over on the side of the street to watch. Within ten minutes, the task had been completed, and the bucket descended until the worker stepped out. That is when I noticed it was a young girl that had just performed that chore.
When she removed her hard hat to wipe the sweat from her forehead, I could see that her dark natural red hair was cut short around the sides and her long matted swoopy bangs were dyed in many colors ranging from purple to yellow. As she placed her tools into the truck, she seemed strong considering she stood about 5'8 and supported a thin but muscular build. When the girl turned around, she spotted me staring at her and I quickly tried to play it off by turning my head. When I glanced back, it was too late as she began walking across the street to my truck. I became nervous and trying to decide my next plan of action. Stopping at my window, she motioned for me to roll it down.
As soon as it was down, she bluntly asked, "Hi. I noticed you were looking my way. Are you new to town?"
I was relieved that she was not upset at my ogling when I responded, "Yes. I have been here a couple of weeks. I'm working for Aldon Oils, doing odd jobs."
She reached her hand inside my truck and as I shook it, she introduced herself, "I'm Lindsey and as you can see I work for Touchstone Energy. I have been here for a little over a year."
I detected a slight northern accent but what really struck me was her natural beauty. Lindsey looked rough with a diamond stud nose piercing, a small silver hoop through her eyebrow and supporting several colorful tattoos including a full sleeve. However, her self-expression didn't detract from her gorgeous face with full lips, big hazel eyes covered by attractive long eyelashes.
I responded, careful not to offend, "Don't take this out of context but you look too young to be doing that. But don't get me wrong...I think it is pretty cool that you can."
Lindsey laughed, "I get that a lot. I'm only 20 years old but since my dad works for the company, I have been around this my whole life. The guys I work with say I'm just a natural."
"From what I could tell, I would agree with them."
"Awwww...that is nice of you to say. Hey listen, I'm not usually this forward but when I see a blonde haired stranger sitting in her truck staring at me, I just feel the need to ask her out for a cup of coffee or dinner or something. We don't get many strangers around here."
I laughed, "Oh really? I guess that would be OK. How about tonight? We could go to that little diner on Park Avenue."
She nodded, "Great. I will see you there at seven. It's a date."
As she walked away, it hit me that she probably meant a date...date. I was not a lesbian and had never been with a girl in that way. I also didn't want to assume just because of her appearance that she was a lesbian so my mind was jumping all over the place. I soon rationalized that it didn't matter and I would go out to spend an evening with a nice person and enjoy someone's company for a change.
In my detraction from my usual work routine, I was unable to pump my breasts a second time. I got home late and immediately jumped into the shower. My boobs were so full, I manually squeezed some milk down the drain for some temporary relief. Using both hands, I was spraying it like I was holding two guns but only had time for a quick milking and go.
Because of my consistent exercise regiment, for the first time in a long time, I felt good about my body so I decided to wear a short sky blue summer dress and high heel wedges. I could barely get my massive boobs into the dress but it didn't hinder my decision. After applying my makeup and throwing a couple curls in my hair, I was out the door.