"Hey, Donna... check it out... Malibu Barbie at the front door... beautiful face... and oh, what a dynamite body!
It was a normal early-afternoon crowd at Charli's Place, only a dozen female patrons scattered throughout the bar, typical for this time on a Friday, and the only reason why Donna Travers was one of them on this particular day was because she had come here to pick up a paycheck for helping her manager-friend Nancy a couple of weekends earlier, filling in as a "bouncer" of sorts, always a necessity when things got really busy in this establishment. Girl-fights were not uncommon at tough lezzie biker-bars (an accurate description of Charli's Place), and squabbles over gorgeous femmes like the one at the door were often what caused them to break-out in the first place.
"I'd like to strip that girl completely nude and lick chocolate syrup off of her curvy ass," Nancy stated, with feeling!
"Easy now," Donna murmured. "I wonder what... hey, I KNOW that girl!"
"Really? You know her? Well, you'd better do something before Linda reaches her," Nancy said, motioning to another woman rapidly approaching the newcomer. "Linda's got that predatory look she always gets when she spots fresh meat, and she's not one to wait for an invitation!"
Sure enough, Linda Morris had already reached the beautiful blonde and already had a hand reaching around her slender waist as she started making conversation.
"Excuse me, Linda," Donna interrupted, squeezing in between the two. "I'm afraid this one belongs to me!"
Linda frowned, but wasn't about to challenge the taller, athletic, tough-girl, no matter how tempting the prey. "Maybe some other time, sweet cheeks," she muttered, patting the pretty blonde girl's pert behind before retreating.
The pretty blonde girl watched Linda walk away before then glancing back, her eyes suddenly widening as she laughingly exclaimed: "Hey, I know you! Donna! It's me, Brooke"
"Yes, Brooke, I recognized you when you came in," Donna replied, as the beautiful blonde girl leaped into her arms, hugging her tightly for several seconds before the older woman gently pushed her back to arm's length. "Whatever are you doing here in this place?"
"Well, it's kind of a long story."
"In that case, let's you and I sit down and you can tell me all about it," she said, steering the pretty girl over to an empty table in the corner.
Beautiful blonde 18-year old Brooke Thorne had grown up just two houses down from the Travers household, where Donna lived. The older girl, being a dozen years her senior, had actually been Brooke's babysitter as far back as either girl could remember, with Brooke's parents always treating Friday night as their special night, leaving Donna to stay home alone with their pretty daughter, a situation that continued until Donna finally left home to move to San Francisco. That was nearly five years ago, and now here was pretty Brooke, as gorgeous as ever, in the city by the bay!
"I just started college at San Francisco State," the girl exclaimed. "And last week I joined a sorority that's making all of us freshmen girls participate in a scavenger hunt, collecting various things as part of our initiation!"
"And they sent you here... to Charli's Place?"
"Well, yeah... see?" She pulled out a piece of paper from her bluejeans pocket. "I'm supposed to collect a monogrammed shot glass from a place called 'Charli's.'"
"Here, give me that," Donna said, looking at the paper. "No, that's 'Charlie's Bistro' - it's an upscale restaurant clear on the other side of town! This is 'Charli's Place' - it's a dyke bar!"
"Oh, wow... my mistake! I can't believe I just spent all of that money on cab fare, and he drove me to the wrong place!"
"Oh wow is right. This is definitely the wrong hang-out for a pretty thing like you to appear in... the women here will gobble you up and then tattoo their names on your curvy behind for future reference!
The girl giggled. "No, they wouldn't."
"Look around, Brooke. Several women here have been drooling non-stop since you first sauntered in, wiggling that pretty ass of yours."
"Stop it... no... seriously... I mean, really? How cool is that?"
"Yeah, it's really cool... look, you just sit tight, and I'll got get us a couple of beers, OK?"
"Thank you, Donna!"
Brooke Thorne really was worth the stares and the drooling. Tall and slender, she had an incredibly gorgeous feminine figure that her painted-on bluejeans and tight tee-shirt only accentuated, along with a strikingly pretty face, cute nose, stylish mid-length blonde hair, and a pouty mouth that only completed the perfection that was already there to begin with.
Donna Travers, on the other hand, was a bit more on the more 'masculine side,' slightly taller than Brooke and definitely more muscular. Her short-dark-hair framed a stern face that was attractive but not particularly beautiful. At thirty-years of age, she was employed by (and part-owner of) a security firm, and knew perfectly well how to defend herself, which is one of the reasons why she was also a very capable bouncer when asked to perform in that capacity at tough butch/femme grrl-bars like this one.
"If this is a dyke-bar, then what are you doing here, Donna?" Brooke asked her innocently, as the older woman returned with a couple of beers.
"I like it here," she replied. "Despite it's rough appearance, it's a fun place to hang out!"
The girl stared at her following this unanswered question, before continuing.
"I've really missed you, Donna. When you moved away from home I cried for a month."
"I missed you, too, Brooke. But I was twenty-five years old, and it was time for me to leave the nest. I certainly couldn't work as a babysitter forever, you know!"
"No, I guess you couldn't. But you could at least have said good-bye!"
"Yeah, I suppose I should have, but you were a teenager by then, doing other things, and I seriously doubt your parents were going to call me again to babysit you in any case!"
"Oh yes they were - I would have made them," Brooke pouted, with that stubborn expression on her pretty face that brought back all kinds of pleasant memories for Donna!
"You always were a bit of a brat, weren't you? Your parents always did whatever you asked!"
"But I was never a brat with you, Donna - never!"
"That's only because you knew that I wasn't afraid to spank that little butt of yours the moment you stepped out of line."
Brooke giggled. "Do you know what I missed most after you left? I missed bath night!"
Now it was Donna's turn to smile. "Yeah, that kind of became our weekly Friday night tradition, didn't it?"
Both women sighed together as they got lost in the memory.
"I loved it," Brooke said. "After my parents left the house for the night, we'd watch some television, you'd fix me a snack, and then you'd say 'it's bath time,' and you'd chase me upstairs into that big bathroom at the end of the hall... and then you'd turn on the faucets..."
"And then I'd begin undressing you," Donna said wistfully, "getting you all nice and nude before helping you into the hot water."
"You always made sure it was just right," Brooke agreed.
"I had to... because you'd always yelp with fright if you lowered your pretty tushie into water that was too hot..."
"Or too cold!"
"But I never let that happen, did I?"
"No. I loved the feel of your hands as they'd caress and bathe me, Donna..." the girl reminisced. "I remember you always had such strong hands."
"They needed to be strong to keep you from squirming and wriggling about. Your body was like a slippery eel once you were all soaped up."
The girl giggled. "I used to sometimes pretend that I was a fish, and that you were a fisherman who had caught me and wanted to eat me for dinner," Brooke laughed. "I had to at least try to escape, even though you never let me!"
"You were always so very pretty, Brooke, even as a little girl!"
"I always felt pretty with you... and also safe, Donna, like you were always there to protect me. I remember how careful you were to keep shampoo out of my eyes when you washed my hair..."
"Any you have such beautiful hair," the older woman murmured, gently running her fingers through the beautiful blonde's tresses. "And such beautiful eyes," she added, caressing her cheek.
The younger girl giggled again, a delightful sound. "I also remember how, after my bath was over, your strong arms would lift me out of the tub, and you'd then dry me off, and sometimes you'd even rub baby oil on my legs and body..."
"And such a beautiful body it's become!"
Brooke smiled. "Do you remember how I used to insist that you then carry me to my bed after we were done?"
"I didn't mind... you always said it was because you didn't want to get your clean feet dirty..."
"I know I said that, but I was lying... I just liked being carried by you."
"And I actually enjoyed carrying you!"
"Did you really?"
"Yes, I did. Besides, you weren't very heavy back then, and you weren't wearing anything but a smile..."
Brooke laughed out loud. "You were always so gentle with me, Donna," she purred, squeezing the woman's hand. "When you laid me down on the bed I always felt so loved and wanted... it's almost like we were... you know..."
"Like we were lovers?"
Brooke blushed. "No, that's not what I meant."
