I met Bobbie at Lisa and Jake's housewarming party. By the time the party started, I was already tired -- I'm not exactly a social butterfly, and I'd spent the afternoon helping Lisa get her house ready and setting out food. I'm friendly enough, but I'm not outgoing. Even though I said hello to everyone and even mingled a little, I spent more time sitting out on the patio with the dog, eating chips, and occasionally slipping the chips to the dog, which is why I suspect the dog was finding me such good company.
"Pardon, do you have a light?" I handed the woman my lighter and tossed the dog another chip.
She lit up, illuminating full lips painted dark red, and handed it back. "Thanks. You out here getting away from it all, or do you mind if I sit with you?"
"Sure," I said. "Please sit down." I smiled at her automatically, then looked again. Most fabulous looking girl! She had blonde hair -- bombshell blonde, unapologetically out of a bottle, worn in a 40's style updo with the cliché Bettie Page bangs, but instead of framing the Gawth-pale face with drawn-on eyebrows, her skin looked soft and natural, and her brows were perfect arches over big dark eyes -- again lined retro-style, with heavy dark lashes, but on her it was done right. Add in those lush red lips, and oh, yes, be still my beating heart. Not too perfect-looking, mind you; gorgeous, but not intimidating and unattainable-looking. She was just this side of plump, with voluptuous curves barely contained in a poison-green satin wiggle dress. There was a rose tattooed on the upper curve of one of her breasts. I'm not huge on tattoos, but she was so damn easy on the eyes it added rather than detracted. This woman looked so soft and pleasing, and lovely, and when she took a drag off her cigarette, those perfectly-uptilted tits raised in a way that made me catch my breath.
"Sorry, didn't mean to stare. You look...great," I said.
She grinned; one of her front teeth was slightly chipped. "Thanks. You're not too bad, yourself."
"Thanks," I didn't look too bad tonight -- I'm small, curvy myself (though not to the full effect this pretty critter was), and a bit exotic-looking; I'd decided to wear a sundress with a pattern of blue roses -- also vintage in cut, and showing off what I have. But next to this angel? Chopped liver.
"It's nice to see someone else who likes retro looks. Would you mind standing up so I can see your dress better?"
I complied, twirling campily, ending with a little curtsey. I had a fleeting moment of thinking I was an idiot, but she smiled and looked me up and down, the tip of her tongue caught between her front teeth, and I realized that yes, I was flirting. And she was responding.
"Nice," she nodded. "That's perfect on you. You're lovely." The dog, realizing that he wasn't getting enough attention and the chip distribution had paused, had wandered down into the yard. The girl took one last drag on her cigarette and leaned over to put it out in the ashtray on the table between us, causing a minor commotion in the top of her dress again.
"I'm Bobbie, by the way. I used to work with Lisa's boyfriend Jake. We started hanging out together back then, and we're still buddies. Don't know Lisa as well as I'd like to yet, but she seems to be good people."
I took her proffered hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Lula. I've known Lisa for about...seven years? Jeez, it's been that long...I don't know Jake that well yet, myself."
She shook my hand. But she didn't quite let it go as quickly as one usually does, and she squeezed my fingers gently when she finally did relinquish it.
We chatted for a while, in a way that might have been completely innocent, but had an undercurrent of flirtation. I'm really pretty shy and not demonstrative, and as a bisexual woman, I move really cautiously especially when it comes to girls I find attractive. I swore, though, she seemed more than casually interested about my relationship status: I'm engaged, my fiance is geographically distant, and while neither of us would want to do anything to jeopardize our relationship, he knows my tendency to like girls...and it turns him on. Me playing with girls is all right in his book. I tiptoed around that, but she did get that I sometimes play with girls. So it was out there.
"I prefer girls, myself. I don't date a lot, and I do date guys sometimes, but...I like women better." She said, finishing off with another adorable, seismic shrug. I could have sworn she was suddenly even warmer toward me, and sitting a little closer. She reached out and touched the back of my hand. "Do you want to go in and get another drink?"
We both chose Diet Cokes from the ice-filled cooler in the kitchen. While we were standing there talking, someone jostled my elbow. Diet Coke fizzed out, scoring a direct hit on the front of my dress.
"Dammit," I said, swiping my fingers at it uselessly.
"Hang on -- let me see if they have any seltzer or something." She went into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of club soda and a cloth napkin.
"I don't think it'll be too bad..." I muttered, swiping at my chest with the napkin.
"Cola stains. Come on, let's get as much of it off as we can." She led me to the little bathroom by the kitchen, closing and locking the door behind us.
She was all business as she poured club soda onto the napkin, and began dabbing and blotting at the Diet Coke. "Now your top's going to be kind of wet...but it'd be a shame to have a stain on this gorgeous dress..." I could see the gray-brown spill diluting as she dabbed and blotted. I was so close to her, I could smell her: she smelled like jasmine and vanilla, maybe something underpinning it like talcum powder, with a slight tang of salt and cigarette smoke. And here she was, casually blotting a stain on my breast. It seemed like her touch was lingering, and I was conscious that I was breathing a little faster and deeper.
Her fingers ran along the side of my right breast, caressing along the fabric of my dress. I stiffened. Was she...? She gently cupped the curve of it as if to answer my unspoken question. Yes, she was...so I relaxed against her touch, releasing my held breath. Bobbie was pleased at my reaction; I felt her hot breath against the skin of my neck, the lightest touch of her nose there as she kissed my neck softly, nuzzling against me. She kissed me more firmly there, parting her lips to graze her tongue across my skin. Every nerve ending in my body stood at full attention when she did that, and I arched my neck toward the sensation. Her hand on my tit because more insistent in its caress, she thumbed my stiffening nipple before slipping her fingers under the top of my dress and bra. Her touch was hot against my skin; the gentle caresses became more aggressive. I inclined my head toward where she nibbled my neck; she raised her mouth so our lips met in a soft deep hot kiss.
She was working on the side zipper of my dress with the hand not fondling my breast when a knock on the door made us both jump.
"Be out in just a minute!" She trilled sweetly. I had to stifle laughter. She pulled her hand free, and then pulled me close into a deeper harder kiss. She took my hand and guided it under the skirt of her dress to her pussy, pressing my hand against the silky wet panties. Wet? They were soaking. I could tell her pussy was waxed or shaved like my own, and I could feel the hot bump of her engorged clit between puffy labia. I slid my finger under the elastic and rubbed the hot wet slit, my own pussy responding in kind when my effort was rewarded with a little pussy juice. I pulled my finger back out and brought it up to my mouth, sucking the tart sweetness from my fingertip. We kissed again, and arranged ourselves into innocence, ready to cede the bathroom to whomever needed it.
"You know...my house is only down the block. Would you want...do you..."
I kissed her neck. "Yes." No doubt!
Our hosts were busy, so with a few waves and "see ya"s we were out the door pretty quick. And down the block almost as quickly, giggling like girls as we bantered and touched each other under the lemon light of the streetlamps. She wrapped her arm around me and rubbed my hip as she unlocked the door, remarking, "I have a housemate, but she's out at her boyfriend's for the night. Even if she comes back, it's cool." She kicked the door closed behind us and pulled me to her, our mouths finding each other, her hand groping my ass through my skirt. She moaned when I pulled my mouth down and nibble-kissed her cheek, her ear, her neck. I wanted to get her breasts out of that green dress so I could play with them, so I moved my hand on her back from her waist to the top of the dress, finding the zipper and tugging it down gently. As the top came undone, I pushed one of the shoulder straps with it, exposing a beautiful big round breast encased in lacy pink bra cup, like a delicious dessert displayed in a frilly pastry cup. It was so beautiful and succulent; I eased the bra strap off her shoulder and slipped her tit out, giving it a closer look. Very large and plump, round with just the smallest bit of sag, the nipple like a pebble on large pale areola. This was the one with the rose tattoo; it was better work than usual, and it only added to the prettiness of her breast, really. I lowered my head, filling my mouth with the taste of her jasmine-and-vanilla scent and all of that areola, sucking hard. I was enraptured by this simple act, thinking about how sweet her pussy was also going to taste. Still sucking, I reached up and pulled the other strap down to free the other tit. She cupped the breast in her hand, pretty, pale and wobbly, offering the nipple to me, so I transferred my oral attention, while gently pinching and toying with the other tit.
