I awake. The clock reads eleven thirty. I look around disappointed to find myself alone in bed. Soon though I hear some noise from the kitchen. So, last night wasn't just a really really great dream? I jump up to pee and brush my teeth, then throw on a robe and step into my kitchen/living room.
There Lisa stands at my stove, naked except for my apron, a hideous flowered thing I'd never worn. My mother gave it to me as an apartment warming present upon my divorce. I always thought they were old-fashioned. However, with her bare ass toward me, Lisa is seriously rocking it.
She turns, spatula in one hand, as I walk up and leans in for a long lingering good morning kiss. "Scrambled eggs sound good?" she asks.
"Yeah sure. Thank you, baby. You don't have to cook breakfast," I say. I'm pleasantly surprised. "You look hot in my apron by the way," I joke as I pull the top edge away from her to look down it.
"Well, I already fried some bacon, and I didn't want the grease popping on my tits," she says smiling. "Now sit down. It's my turn to serve you."
"I thought you did that last night," I say, smiling as I sit down at my little table for two and watch her finish breakfast.
We eat in relative silence. It's not the awkward type of quiet I was used to eating through with my ex. This silence is full of warm, knowing glances, and gentle footsies under the table. I could get used to this, I think. Then it occurs to me, I have no idea what we're supposed to do now. Many questions rise from the back of my mind where surely they've been rolling around, just waiting for me to realize they were there; Where do we go from here? Were we girlfriends now? Would her husband Mike even be OK with that? When can we get together again? Oh yeah, and I don't even know what her last name is.
I look up from staring at a half-eaten piece of bacon to Lisa's disarmingly beautiful green eyes. "You look deep in thought hon. What's on your mind?" she says. "Or can I guess? You're wondering where we go from here. Right?"
"No fair, I can't read your mind yet," I say. "I suppose we did just jump right in there didn't we?" I take another bite of bacon to give myself time to frame my next thought. "I feel so comfortable with you, I forget how little we know about each other," I add quietly. "And you have mike. I want to get to know you better. I don't want this to be one time thing and I don't think you do either...I hope."
"No, I don't," she replies instantly, "I very much want to further this relationship if you do, especially after last night. Wow." She pauses for a second while I nod in agreement, blushing. "As for Mike it's kind of like this...." She stares at the ceiling, thinking. "Most men think the idea of two women together is a turn on. The rest of them are either gay or probably lying. For my darling husband it's definitely a huge huge turn on." Now it's her turn to blush. "He's very very, I say again, very good in the bedroom. Definitely knows his way around the female body that one." I feel her toes running up my calf under the table. "Before we got married, I told him about my girlfriend in college." Here she holds up air quotes around 'girlfriend', "I was worried about his reaction, but when I saw how hard it made him, I gave him every little detail and we had hot monkey sex all night long. It was grrrrreat." She grins like a fool and her eyes glaze over like she is replaying that long ago night in her mind. I don't want to interrupt. She is back to reality after a minute. "I think you'd be impressed," she says, smiling slyly. I wonder how many details about last night he is going to get. Strangely, the thought of him getting hard hearing about us turns me on a little. Randal could barely get hard with me in the bed with him.
"It wouldn't take much to impress me after my ex." I reply. I briefly give her the short version of an already short story about our snoozer of a sex life, and that it was the only thing I knew until last night. "I swear he thought foreplay was golf jargon."
"Wow." Lisa is clearly surprised. "You would definitely be impressed by Mike then." She thinks for a second. "Have you ever even given a blow job?"
I laugh out loud at this, suddenly too embarrassed to answer even after literally sharing my entire body with her last night. I feel an old hurt rising up. "Um...no, no I haven't. I was about to try it on our honeymoon when he said, and I quote; 'What are gonna do that for? I didn't think you were that slutty.'" I start to sniffle a little, suddenly teary eyed. "I'm sorry. You're the first person I've ever told that to. I felt very ashamed after that."
She watches me wipe tears from my eyes from across the table. "I'm so sorry you married such a dick-less A-hole. My god, what kind of real man turns down a perfectly good blow job and then makes you feel like shit for offering it to him?" Her expression of exaggerated surprise is almost comical, even more so when she adopts a pretty decent southern bell accent, "My stars honey, even gay men love blow jobs. Are you sure he even had balls under that little thang?"
