For several weeks after Susan and Ellen spent that hot and heavy evening with me, Susan and I swapped dozens of teasing, sometimes naughty, sometimes inquisitive and sometimes just friendly emails. Of course, we had moved from the company email system to our personal computers. During those weeks, Susan admitted to being confused about her sexuality. She had thought of herself as a lesbian and not very sexual. However, she now freely admitted to me that she enjoyed our time together and having sex with a man for the first time. We had lunch a few times, went to a movie, the zoo and had dinner once. We had not had sex again but our kissing was world class and she enjoyed proving to me that she was turned on by putting her wet fingers into my mouth and watching what her taste did to me. I think she was being sexually playful for the first time in her life. A few serious ideas crept into our conversations: relationships, kids, growing old, faith and being loved.
Over those weeks I discovered, Ellen was Susan's female substitute for what I had been in high school, except Ellen sometimes got benefits. Mostly, they were good friends, with many common interests and enjoyed each other's company.
Luckily my assigned work project hit the point where even twenty-four hours was not enough for what needed to be done. I say, "Luckily," because Susan's long time love, Star, returned. Star had come and gone in Susan's life several times, leaving for other females, lots and lots of females. Susan's email to me was bubbling over with enthusiasm and hope. I wanted her to be happy but to me the news was opposite from what I wanted to hear. I just did what I do best, I got lost into work, so I didn't have to feel or hurt.
Three months later, I was in that wonderful stage in turnarounds when I am the biggest asshole who ever lived. My birthday came on a Friday. Susan knew. I had not seen her in quite a while. She did not show at our watering hole, so I was feeling sorry for myself, looking into my beer when Ellen showed up.
"I'm hoping you being here is not an accident and you came especially to see me."
From behind her back she produced a single slice of Safeway cake with a single candle on it. My spirits lifted, "How did you know and will you share my cake with me and be my friend by believing I am 25?"
"That cake would go straight to my thighs, but I honestly believe you are 25."
"We already learned how to work cake off your thighs. How did you know where to find me?"
"Susan called me. Star would not let her come have dinner with you. I'm hoping you will accept me as a poor substitute."
"Hardly a poor substitute. You know, I think you are beautiful. I know you are tasty and I know how you feel inside."
"I think you are ahead of me with the alcohol."
"Want to catch up?"
"Get me a strong "Sex on the Beach"."
"Anytime, but what would you like to drink?"
Ellen laughed, leaned forward and kissed me. I inhaled her and thrust my tongue into her mouth.
"You are aggressive and horny when you drink on your birthday."
"Sorry, right this minute, I can feel my manners returning."
"I'll bet you could take what you want, when you are drinking."
"I can take what I want when I am sober and I enjoyed discovering that you can too."
"Let's call this conversation a draw and start over."
"I agree. Thank you for being here. You are the only person who has wished me Happy Birthday. I was starting to think, I had become the high school geek again, until a sexy woman showed up."
"You have a strange job. Dozens of women work for you, are interested in you but you are the "hatchet man" and they are all afraid to even look at you."
"I'm not a bad boy. The women I've met, like bad boys who are not nice to them. They don't stay with me very long. Someday, I'll learn to be "bad" and some lovely, like you, will want to be with me."
"Feeling sorry for yourself on your birthday?"
"No, once a geek always horny."
"Come on, get away from the booze and dance with me."
My objections fell on deaf ears. I wanted to dance, be with her, hold her, touch her and hear her talk more. After a few dances and a few drinks, she had felt me up rather thoroughly and I had revisited every inch of her body. By the end of the evening, I was almost sober and Ellen had told me her life story and drank enough to be more blitzed than I was when she showed up.
She asked me, "Buy me a really stiff drink. My mind is having bad thoughts."
"Hand me your car keys. Tell me your address, then I will buy you as many drinks as you can keep down until the bad thoughts go away. I promise to get your home safely and come drive you to your car tomorrow." I was surprised, she did not argue and handed me her keys, fumbled in her wallet and handed me her driver's license.
She explained, "I had a friend who had three DUIIs. Her life was hell: couldn't drive, had horrible fines, took classes and probably will never get a license again."
"Thank you for not fighting me. I'll tell the bartender to keep me straight and get you drunk."
"I didn't fight you on your patio."
"No you didn't and I still remember how your wet pussy and how your body contorts and squeezes when it cums. For tonight, tell me more about you. That is what I want to know. Was your first experience with a female or a male?"
For two hours, she talked and I discovered that she started young, her first lovers were male and they rejected her. She was secretive about why. She drank more and wanted to kiss and touch. It was time to take her home. I intended to get her settled inside and then leave but she turned on me, pinning me against the inside of her door. "Finger fuck me again and make me cum like you did before."
I'm never one to disappoint a lady. I twisted her around to press her back to her own door. Her shoes, panty hose and panties came off easily. Her legs opened so wide there seemed to be a neon sign saying, "Here, right here." I knelt in front of her and took her with my fingers using long hard strokes. When she gasped, I slowed and started with my mouth. When she began to thrust, my fingers started a major frontal assault on her g-spot. I'd get and "F" for foreplay but she did not want any. Her body, her hands and her thighs clasped me to her. She screamed and squirted profusely and kept squirting as she screamed again and again and slid down the door. The alcohol and the totally free climax were too much for her. She passed out. My face, neck and shirt were wet. Her clothing was wet but it was soaked after I cleaned the wet floor with it. I had swallowed what I could but she had surprised me. I regretted what I had missed. This was my greatest hope, my greatest delight. I wiped her, found her bedroom, put her to bed, left her wet clothing in a pile in the bathroom and put a note by her telephone, "Call me when your head quits pounding after your second cup of coffee." She would be surprised. I made coffee to be ready at eight in her coffee maker.
About noon, my telephone rang, Ellen was crying so hard I could barely understand her. I over talked her, "I'll be right there."
For an hour, she would not elaborate but kept apologizing. She looked hung over and over wrought. Finally, I had to put a stop to the hysterics and hear the truth.
"You came to me and gave me a great birthday present by being with me. You are a wonderful woman and friend. What is so horrible?"
Through a dozen hitches in her voice, a dozen gasps and a dozen tries to turn away from me, she finally got out, "I'm so sorry I peed on you. All my clothes were wet. I'm so sorry."
I knew she would not believe my words. I left her standing and sobbing, as I went to get her wet clothing from the bathroom. Her eyes could barely look at me.
"Why do you think you peed on me?" I did not wait for an answer. "Why do you think that would be so wrong, if you did?" I waited for her to gather some rational thought. "Ellen, your body did something few women can do, you squirted. It was wonderful and beautiful. You are special and could fly higher and higher and higher than most women can imagine when you climax."