Gold Star

Chapter One

A fat hairy and brawny hand shoved the white heavy-duty china plate onto the windowsill between the kitchen and the customer dinning area. Some of the oily fries that almost covered the equally greasy burger hidden below them, dropped onto the formica top. A deep booming voice could be heard, "Damn it Trish! Get your fucking ass in gear. I got four orders of yours here, and you ain't picked a one up yet."

Poking his head further out the window, seeing the very young petite blonde with a short pageboy hair cut, he glared again wondering about the three pierced earrings on each ear, especially the ones with a Greek lambda symbol over a black upside-down triangle. "You wanted the god damn job, so get your ass moving. This ain't Kansas chicky. Mommy and daddy ain't gonna do it for ya, so get that skinny ass moving or I'm letting you go."

Trish was standing there almost in tears. Her 50's styled apron showed already the grime of the hour-long rush hour and Trish's inexperience. Her pale green 50's waitress uniform dress had more than her own paw prints clearly marking her ass. Even though she had showered just before going to work, she felt sweaty, dirty and grimy, all over.

Taking a quick glance at her, the older waitress Marsha slipped her head, shoulders and ample bosom over the sill and into the kitchen, "She's just a baby Bob. She's new, so just shut your fucking mouth."

As Marsha was sliding her ample figure back out into the dinning area, Bob's anger was already cooling. Bob knew he'd lose any argument he started with Marsha, "Okay, okay... She your business, you get her in shape. We can't have customers complaining. I got enough on my hands. Damn place anyway. If it ain't the IRS or the health department it's having no help that's worth shit. Why'd I ever get myself into this mess in the first place?" Owning a 50's styled diner had been Bob's dream. A diner just like one of those he knew as a kid. Nowadays he thought of it more as a nightmare.

He had hired Trisha because of her cute virginal figure and face, tight ass and small but perky tits. Tits that just begged to have his hands on them, pointy nipples that needed him to suckle them.

Today, her first day at work, he was already regretting his decision. He regretted having hired her just for her tight ass. Even if that ass screamed to have his hard cock pounded into it. Hell, she jumped a foot in the air every time a guy even touched her butt.

Bob reached down and adjusted himself, wondering if Trisha didn't have, not only a virgin asshole, but also, maybe even a virginal twat. "Damn, ain't had one of those in a long time," he thought. "Maybe, Marsha can get her into shape so she's keepable." His mind slipped into thinking of how he'd like Marsha to get Trisha into shape. Maybe warming Trish up with her tongue, so his hard cock could slip easily into her virginal cunt.

Turning back to orders that needed to be cooked, he let his mind wander, thinking of Marsha's ample bosom and ass. Marsha was a little on the heavy side, but for her 45 years and two children she still had a good figure. Bob was only disappointed that in the three years that Marsha had been working for him, he'd never gotten a chance at fucking her. Not that he hadn't gotten quite a few good looks at her ample wares. Marsha always had something on show, for everyone. Marsha was a good one for knowing what got her tips and what didn't, and Marsha got good tips. She just didn't put out is all. "Damn, here I am thinking about a three-way with those two, harder than rock because of it, and there ain't a chance in hell that either one of them is going to put out for me. Life sucks and I'm overworked."

Marsha grabbed four of Trisha's plates resting on the counter top and turned to leave, "Come on baby doll. Grab the rest and let's get going. I'll help you out and don't mind that hairy ape back there. He barks a lot, but he can't bite. Ol' limp dick ain't gonna hurt ya sweetie," with that she gave Trisha an overt wink and grin.

Trisha gave her a weak smile and took the other two plates, following her like a duckling her mother.

After rush hour traffic was over and things slowed down, Marsha spent time teaching Trisha how to work her job at the café.

Marsha always was a touchy feely person, but there was something about Trisha that kept Marsha closer to her, touching her on her arms, waist and even a time or two caressing her hips. Marsha had even gone so far as giving Trisha a small peck or two on the cheek.

Even if she had thought about it, Marsha couldn't explain why. Marsha didn't have an aversion towards physical contact with other women, but they didn't appeal to her either. Sexually, Marsha liked cock. Marsha liked strong horny men with big dicks and hard bodies.

Not that Marsha considered herself slutty. Marsha had had a few in highschool, and before she married. Still, in her 26 years of married life with her husband Fred, she had only had strange 4 times. Two of them had been one-night-stands. One of the others lasted for one year and was a frantic guilt ridden affair that Marsha promised herself never to do again. The last one had lasted only one week, with three nights of heavy fucking her brains out. Fred had been out on a job site, and the kids both grown and out of the house.

Yet, there was something about Trisha that intuitively and sexually aroused Marsha. Marsha felt herself strongly attracted towards Trisha. Even though Marsha had children older than Trisha, Marsha didn't think about that. Marsha didn't think about anything, only felt. It wasn't that Trisha was beautiful. She wasn't. She was cute. But, it was a cuteness that moved Marsha. Marsha felt a strong desire, a passion to hold and caress, explore every part of Trisha's body and mind. Instinctively for Marsha, Trisha's small, fragile and feminine body needed her attention, her love and adoration.

This confused Marsha's practical mind, and she felt somewhat out of balance around Trisha. Not knowing what to do or how to act. Even not knowing what she actually wanted from Trisha. Only feeling that desire to be intimate with Trisha. Trisha excited her sexually, but Marsha didn't understand why, or how to express that feeling, neither with Trisha, nor with herself.

Trisha got through the day and in her beat up old Suzuki returned, bone tired, to her rent-by-the-month hotel room. Shutting and locking her door from the outside world, was her first and foremost desire.

She than slipped out of her waitress uniform. Unbuttoning the front, and letting her dress slide down her body. Stepping forward with one foot, she hooked her dress with her other and fired her dress towards the furthest corner of her one-room flat. Her dress caught in mid-air and than floated down onto her bed. "Oh man, not even that goes right," she sighed.

Having smelt greasy food all day long, Trisha's thoughts were everywhere but eating. Trisha wanted first and foremost a bath and a long soak. She wanted that smell of the diner off her, and hopefully those depressing thoughts out of her mind. When Trisha headed off towards her bathroom, at the same time her hands automatically reached behind her and opened her bra. Her bra, she dropped thoughtlessly on her bed, alongside her dress. Her mind already set on her destiny and her long awaited soak.

Having once started the water running into the tub and bath oil, Trisha wiggling her hips, slipped out of both panties and pantyhose all in one swoop until she had to raise and tug each foot free. Pulling them than apart from each other, rolling them all into a ball, she tossed them too, in the direction of her dress and bra. Rubbing and scratching under her firm small breasts, at the mark her bra band had left, Trisha waited for her bathtub to fill before sliding into the water with a deep sigh of contentment passing her lips.

Trisha first thoughts were about her day's activities and problems.

Marsha had been fairly nice, confusing but nice. Marsha was friendly and comforting. But, Marsha was always too touchy. Her touchiness was possessive, demanding like men's touchiness. Marsha's touches were confusing for Trisha. Marsha should have been motherly, and she was at times. Yet, she wasn't acting that way, not always.

Bob had been a royal pain in the butt, mean and angry with her all the time. But, worst had been how his eyes seemingly undress her. His eyes made her feel naked and vulnerable. She did not like that feeling at all.

Thankfully, he hadn't been touchy. But, others had been. Many were just being friendly, but even that Trisha was uneasy about. Trisha didn't mind being touched in a friendly manner by men. She wasn't afraid of men. Men were okay. Just men were not her world, or her desires. Anything more than friendly, she didn't like at all.

Men were Trisha's problem. Not lacking men being her problem. Trisha did not want men in her life. Trisha had known almost all her life that she wasn't interested in men. Women interested Trisha. Beautiful feminine women interested Trisha most of all. Trisha had been a tomboy and had felt she wasn't capable of being as beautiful as other women were. Trisha admired this beauty, wanted and desired this beauty. Trisha always felt in awe over women who possessed this kind of beauty. She desired and pined for the nearness of other women.

Men could not do that for her. Men had no appeal for Trisha. They just existed. They were just a part of how the world was, not good, nor bad, just there.

Trisha remembered back in gradeschool and highschool. How she had always shyly sought out friendships with other girls. How she feared others would read her mind, and her thoughts. She feared these girls would know her desires to touch, kiss and caress them.

She remembered how her mother had finally forced her into dating boys. How she didn't mind it so long nothing happened, but how misused and demeaned she had felt when those boy had kissed her and groped her breasts. She had always than argued with her mother or father, making a point of telling them whenever something happened. She didn't like or want those dates.

Jennifer Walden had been Trisha's dream lover for so long as Trisha could remember. Trisha had seemed to always adore the beautiful sensuous brunette. They had been neighbors since the subdivision had been built, and Trisha's family had moved in. They had played together, gone to each other's birthday parties, and shared many secrets. Jennifer was one of the first showing breasts and her new training bra. Trisha was the last. Jennifer was popular in gradeschool, and in highschool she became even more popular.

Trisha had known when Jennifer first had sex. Trisha had listened to Jennifer tell her vividly detailed stories of her dates and her first handjob, blowjob and finally Jennifer losing her virginity at a kegger party. Each time Trisha's heart seemed to break into thousands of pieces. Silently Trisha would cry each of those nights, alone in her bedroom, wishing, hoping and praying for a miracle that would stop Jennifer and Jennifer would finally understand how much she cared for her.

Nothing happened until their senior year. Than Trisha felt she couldn't hold back anymore. Jennifer had told her about kissing other girls at parties. Trisha had seen this as her chance, and moved forward giving Jennifer a kiss. Trisha's lips had softly tenderly caressed Jennifer's. Her hands had caressed Jennifer cheeks, her neck, shoulders and arms. Finally Trisha had let her tongue slip out hoping Jennifer would be receptive.

Jennifer had angrily back away from Trisha, "What do you think you are doing? Ugh, that's homo!"

They had than fought. Everything that Trisha said made it only worse. Finally Trisha had run from Jennifer's house, crying, sobbing to her own bedroom.

At school Jennifer would not even talk to Trisha any more and it was only a matter of time until Trisha had been outed and the whole school knew that she was queer.

One week later, Trisha's younger brother brought home the news that Trisha was known as being a dyke, and lesbian at school. After Trisha refused to deny, Trisha's father had stormed out of the room, leaving Trisha and her mother screaming at each other.

Trisha held out until graduation. Than she took her savings and packed all her belongings in her old Suzuki station wagon and headed out for California. That last year, after seeing on TV a documentary about a gay pride parade in San Francisco Trisha had dreamed of nothing else but one day having a good job and living in a community of others, lesbians just like her.

Coming into Omaha, Trisha had a flat tire. A friendly trucker had helped her change the tire, but at Wal-Mart they told her that her tire was too old to be fixed. They also told her that she needed all new tires. Most all her tires were slick and bald.

Trisha had gone to the diner for something to eat. There she had talked to Marsha and in that talk she had told Marsha parts of her story. That she needed money and was looking for work until she had enough to continue on traveling. That's when Marsha had brought Bob into the conversation and Trisha was hired.

Chapter Two

Within a few short weeks Trisha had settled into the diner and following Marsha's advice had loosened up and was even joking and flirting a little bit with some of the customers, attempting to get better tips. Trisha was hoping in a month or more to have enough money to continue on with her trip and even make the jump without having to stop anywhere and work.

Between Marsha and Trisha, Bob had been banned, mumbling with himself, back into the kitchen. Both Marsha and Trisha now had found a comfortable friendly relationship with each other. Marsha was still as kissy-touchy as ever. Maybe even more so since Trisha had told her that she was lesbian. Yet, Marsha was still unsure and uneasy about her feelings, and Trisha was glad. Trisha didn't want any such relationship with the woman who was older than her mother. Trisha was happy that things stayed as they were.

About two months after Trisha began working at the diner; a mixed group of businessmen and women came into Bob's diner for lunch. They had sat in Trisha's area, and after eating and Trisha had cleared their table, they had ordered coffee and continued their business meeting at the table. They stayed until shortly before dinner and Trisha went off duty.

When serving them first their lunches, one of the women caught Trisha's attention. Trisha didn't know exactly how to describe the look that woman had given her when Trisha had set her plate in front of her. Trisha only knew that from that moment when their eyes first locked, when the woman's hand had lightly caressed Trisha's and she spoke saying only, "Thank you" to Trisha, Trisha's tummy had done a flip, and all during their time in the diner, her stomach had not stopped. Every time she looked over at Trisha, Trisha had known and felt her looking, even when Trisha was not looking in her direction.

Trisha herself could not keep her eyes from looking towards the businesswoman. In Trisha's eyes she was beautiful, but it was more than that. There was a strength, power and magnetism about her that compelled Trisha towards her, forcing her to look again into her deep, very deep sparkling eyes.

At times, when one of the others was speaking, the businesswoman seemed to seek Trisha out, their eyes again locking, and even though they were distances apart, Trisha felt as if they were intimately close together. More intimately close than anyone Trisha had ever been with before. In those moments, she felt she was sharing her whole life and all her emotions with that businesswoman, even though she didn't know her name. She felt caressed and aroused as never before.

Yet the day ended, and the business group went on their way. Only at the door did the businesswoman stop for a moment, her eyes meeting once again for a last longing caress with Trisha.

That evening, coming home with a smile, Trisha came the first time to the touch of her own fingers and the memories of the businesswoman while she lay soaking in her bathtub.

Trisha did not spend that evening watching TV, but rather, naked in her bed, remembering that day with the businesswoman, her eyes, her smiles and those very few touches. Only a caress now and than to her little button, her fingers gently slipping and sliding around her wet inner lips of her sex, than dipping down and in for a moment, the other hand caressing her breasts, the fingers pinching and tenderly pulling each nipple kept her shaking, gasping and near orgasm. Her sex wet and dripping.

When memories of the businesswoman's eyes became acute, Trisha arched her back while her fingers sped over her little man and she shook again and again.

Even afterwards, she could not stop. Memories of those eyes would compel her again into that state of arousal where she knew only the eyes of the woman whose name she did not even know.

Finally late into the night she slept and dreamt sweetly and soundly with the early morning breaking, finding her fresh and content as if she had slept for hours.

To Be Continued?