Copyright 2012, Lisa Summers
My head was whirling after the excitement of two lesbian encounters with Beth, the blonde 'softball mom' I had encountered while umpiring a girl's softball game. She had been a heckler, and if not for a minor fender bender in the parking lot after the game, I might never have met her and the world of Sapphic pleasure she revealed to me.
We had spent several delightful hours in her home a few days before, and after not hearing from her for a few days, I was feeling lonely and horny. So I decided to visit the coffee shop where we had first talked. It was a lovely, feminine place, with very good tea, plus I had gotten a subliminal "lesbian" vibe while there, so perhaps something exciting might happen.
Dressing for the trip was a nightmare. The conversation in my mind was equally horrifying:
"What kind of effect do you want to have on somebody?" *"Who - I don't know anyone there."*
"Well - say you meet a nice older woman." *"I don't know, should I look seductive?"*
"I guess. You want to seduce someone, don't you?" *"Well, I'd prefer to be seduced - it's lots easier."*
"Perhaps you should look young and frail." *"I think that ship's sailed."*
"Maybe just settle for feminine." *"I can do that - I don't know how to dress like a man, especially the whole fake beard thing."*
"What?" *"Never mind, I was just trying to be funny."*
I settled on a yellow blouse and a simple white skirt. And sandals.
It was later in the day, perhaps an hour before most people's dinner time when I entered. To my disappointment, the place was nearly empty. "Well, at least I can get a good seat," I thought to myself.
After a few moments, the young girl who had waited on Beth and I a few days previous, came over to my table. With a sunny smile she greeted me. "Hi, welcome to The Daily Grind," she said, then hesitated. "Aren't you the woman who came in with Beth a few days ago?"
I felt only slightly flattered that she remembered me, as it was more of her associating me with Beth, than for any outstanding features of my own. Still, it's nice to be remembered in a good way, regardless of the reason.
"Yes, thank you for remembering," I said. "I'm Callie, and you're Christine, right?" She smiled in return.
"Well, thank YOU for remembering me!" she gushed, then we both laughed. She wouldn't have been hard to remember, for anyone interested in the female body and face. Honestly, she might have been the most beautiful teenager I've ever seen.
"You're in college, right?" I asked, remembering our little scrap of conversation previously.
"Yes!" she exclaimed. "You remembered. I'm a sophomore at State." She took my order, then brought it to me a few minutes later.
"Were you waiting for anyone..." she ventured. Did she mean Beth?
"Well, truth to tell, I was hoping to meet one of the other ladies here, and perhaps make some friends."
"I think you might have picked a bad time for that," Christine said. "This place really slows down in late afternoon. I'm surprised that we don't just close." She got a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know, I'm likely to be very slow on this shift. Would you mind if I sat and talked with you for a while?"
"I'd love it," I said. And while she hadn't been in my plans, who minds talking to a pretty girl? Apparently the blue-checked blouse wasn't a part of the coffee shop's uniform, as Christine that day was wearing a lovely, and feminine, white long sleeved pima cotton shirt. She still had the worn jeans that showed her ass off to great advantage. I wondered idly if she had a boyfriend.
We talked for about a half hour, and in that entire time, no one else came in. I looked at my watch, and Christine looked at me curiously.
"Would you think I was forward if I asked if I could leave with you?" she asked, rather boldly.
"You mean, um, go out with me...and go somewhere?" I asked timorously.
"Well, actually, I need a ride - it's not far..."
I felt a pang of disappointment. "Certainly, I'd be happy to," I replied. My vision of some sort of exciting liaison began to dissolve. My beginnings as a Sapphic seductress weren't very promising.
As we got up to go, Christine said, "Let me just punch out first." I stood there waiting, for what seemed the longest time, and began fearing that Christine had set me up for some "make fun of the queer" joke. I felt twinges in my stomach, until Christine came out of the back of the kitchen with a denim bag over her shoulder.
"Sorry. Emily, my boss, asked me to wash out a few coffee pots before I left. But I'm ready now," she said brightly. Christine let me lead her out, and we walked to my car.
"Pretty," she said. "Have you had it long?" she asked, indicating my Mustang.
"Yes, I bought it new. On a teacher's salary, I can't afford to change cars every couple of years. Besides, I love her."
Christine smiled. "You're not married?" she asked, with a little bit of interest apparent.
"Yeah, see?" I said, waving my ring-less left hand.
Christine frowned slightly. "That's not always a good indicator these days." Then she hesitated, her eyes seeking out mine.
"Do you...do you think that, maybe, we could go, um, to your place instead of dropping me off?"
My hopes shot through the roof. I had no idea why she now wanted to go with me, but it was a way better prospect than just dropping her off at her dorm, or parents' house, or whatever.
"I'd like that," I responded demurely. Suddenly, I was sorry that the car had bucket seats.
We drove the few miles to my apartment, and Christine exclaimed when I showed her into my apartment. "Oh, it's beautiful! You've done such lovely things with your home!"
"Thank you," I said. "It's just things I've picked up on 'teacher's vacations,' you know, foreign travel during summer vacation from school. Really, really, inexpensive charter trips." Christine seemed like an old friend, and she couldn't hear enough about my stories of travel. Though my stories were no doubt amusing, they weren't particularly dramatic. I supposed to someone young, who hasn't traveled a great deal, they were interesting enough though.
I got us both some iced tea, and eventually Christine asked if she might see the rest of the apartment. I showed her the rest - not really much to see, as it was a simple two bedroom - one bedroom turned into a crafts room. But when I showed her my bedroom, she exclaimed over the afghan covering the queen sized bed.
"Oh, where did you get it, it's so lovely," she gushed.
"I made it," I replied proudly.
