Over the next few weeks, Lisa and I get together several times. It isn't always for sex of course. We are both women and not quite in sync, so mother nature has her say on whether or not we get to play.
I enjoy her company just as much with my clothes on anyway, almost. The third Thursday after that amazing Friday night I bring her a picnic during her lunch break at the library. We sit out back in a little-used courtyard behind the building and munch on cheese, Ritz crackers, little sandwiches I made, and a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne. We chat while munching, filling in the blanks. I love watching her eat. Some girls nibble on crackers in an attempt to be lady-like but end up with crumbs spilling out of their mouths and all over their clothes. Not Lisa. She swallows her crackers whole, and nothing spills out no matter how full her mouth is, she works it till it's gone. Hmm...makes me wonder. She's kinda cute when she does it too.
I have to stifle a giggle when she's gnawing on a big chunk of cheddar sandwiched between two crackers. When she gives me a questioning look, I jokingly say, "Oh yeah baby, you work those Ritz. Make'em holla." She has to turn the side and, ever so indelicately, spit her wad of cheesy goodness out behind the bench to keep from choking. Laughter and food consumption don't mix very well.
"See what you did," she says, "I had to spit instead of swallow."
"Sorry baby. I Suppose that's still better than choking to death. Go ahead and spit it on me," I say with a grin. "What better way to top off a picnic lunch than with a money shot. Oh look, I Ritzed all over your face. Let me clean that off."
She laughs out loud. "I don't know about the money shot, but..uh you could send me back to work with a smile on my face." She grins, looks around for watchful eyes and finds none.
I love that grin. "It would be my pleasure." That will give me something to think about while I'm slogging through my shift tonight. Not that I don't think about her most of the time anyway.
We pack up the rest of the lunch and she leans against the arm of the bench next to me, one leg behind me and one in front. "I knew you were meeting me today, so I forgot to put on panties. Silly me."
"You should be forgetful more often," I reply, sliding my hand up her leg and under her knee length maroon skirt. When my hand finds her wetness her whole-body spasms. She contains it well. No-one would have noticed it from a distance. But I know, I feel it through my hand and the bench. Our eyes never leave each other as I go to work on her, rubbing here, pulling there, spreading here, probing there. Before long I feel her tighten up around my fingers and marvel at her self-control. I'm pretty good at reading her body language by now and even as much as she's restraining herself, I can feel her practically vibrating. Her eyes say so much more. As she cums hard and clenches, coating my fingers, her body finally spasms visibly. Her back arches. Her toes curl in her sandals, and a low, lust filled moan escapes through her clenched teeth. Her eyes never leave mine for a second.
When I can free my digits from her warm moist embrace, I look around once more, wondering irrationally if Mr. Kawalski might have walked around the corner. I put my fingers in my mouth to taste her. I close my eyes to savor the flavor and feel Lisa hop off the bench and pulls me up. She pulls my fingers from my lips and kisses me. Fully. Deeply. Sweetly.
She pulls me in close and whispers in my ear, "I have to go back to work honey, but I really don't want to. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Next time it's your turn."
She's standing in front of me, holding my hands, and looking like she has something to say but can't. Very unusual for her to be at a loss for words.
"What is it babe?" I ask.
She takes a deep breath, "I just want you to know how much you mean to me. I've felt like something was missing in my life for a long time. Even when I wasn't sure what it was exactly, I could feel it." She looks at the ground and continues, "Mike realized something was off, that I needed something he couldn't give me."
"You're not happy with him?" I ask, surprised. They seemed very happy.
"No, that's not it. He is an unusually good find as far as husbands go. I love him and I can't imagine my life without him. He actually knew what was wrong with me before I could really express it myself. He said that my attraction to women was such a strong part of me, of my identity, that I would never completely be myself unless I could explore that side of me and act on it."
"Oh," I say, at a loss for words.
Before I can come up with a better response than that, she continues. "He was right," she says with a sniffle as she looks into my eyes again. Her beautiful green eyes are starting to water. "I stopped trying to turn it off for his sake, and I finally feel like the real me for the first time in a long while."
"Please don't cry," I say wiping a tear away as it rolls down her cheek. "I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere." I pull her in close without bothering to look for watchful eyes and whisper in her ear, "I care about you too babe. Very much." I squeeze her tight as she dries her face off on my shoulder. "You don't know how much better I feel about...everything since I met you, especially myself."
"Well now that I've got that off my chest, I should probably get back to work. I'm late for sure now," she says while drying her face off.
I watch her walk toward the library and when she gets to the back door, as is our custom now, she stops, looks at me over her shoulder, and rocks her butt back and forth just for me. I blow her a kiss and get into my car.
It's been two days since then and my phone rings at eight-thirty in the morning, waking me up. "Huh? Waaizit?" I mumble into the wrong end of my phone.
Lisa was on the other end. "Did I wake you up? Sorry babe, but I haaad to tell you about a dream I had last night. Or do you want me to call you back later?"
