(Thank you all for the wonderful response to my first story posted here. Encouragement is always welcome. I really had thought Claudia would be a one time character, as would be Harri)
It is the middle of winter, Harri has put the motorcycle away and become restless.
She acquired an old red Dodge pickup from a charming lady we met at a late summer barbeque hosted by the GLBT chapter in our city. I refer to it as "The Monster", and Harri really would prefer, as she says, to "put something powerful between her legs."
It was quite a production to transfer ownership. Not the transaction, but delivery. Harri had gone to Dorothy's home, I felt she was gone much too long, but she returned roaring onto the driveway on her Nighthawk and said there was no way I could possibly manage driving The Monster. She suggested we go there in my car, and she would drive the truck home. Harri was wearing 'baggies', large loose elastic waist shorts and a t-strap top, I have convinced her not to hide her breasts with that horrible binding she favors, at least not when around me and we are casual. I cannot convince her to wear anything but those horrid tire sandals, I guess we all must give and take in any relationship. Another concession she gave me was to wear her hair in a French braid, instead of those "heidi horns" ala the Swiss Miss.
Harri had waited until late October to decide perhaps she needed something other than her motorcycle. I shuddered to think how she had managed in previous winters. As always, she drove recklessly, which secretly thrilled me. I have been known to drive very fast, but usually in a direct line without hair breadth near misses of the largest vehicles on the road.
I knew we were approaching Dorothy's home when the behemoth stood in the street, making way in the small driveway for a yellow VW beetle. Dorothy is only an inch taller than my 5'7", and I marveled that she could guide that thing without ramming into small buiildings.
As we parked behind the truck, Dorothy came out the front door, dressed in tan slacks and an Irish cableknit sweater, her blonde hair loose and a genuine smile in greeting.
Harri, naturally, ran up to open the hood of the Dodge, afraid, apparently, that somehow the motor had vanished. She had her tool bag and made some adjustment to something. Both Dorothy and I stood there with quizzical expressions on our faces. Harri smiled at her accomplishment, and we chuckled at the smudge of black on the tip of her nose.
In any event, this was a social event of a sort and Dorothy would have been offended had we not accepted her offer of coffee. She held the door open for us, and apologized for the appearance of the house.
"Is coffee alright, would you like anything else? I have wine, beer, and I make a mean Margarita," said our hostess.
As Harri flip flopped to the bathroom to wash her face she called back over her shoulder, "I'll have a beer, beautiful. No glass."
Dorothy looked at me and said quietly, "I expected that. I went to the store to buy long neck bottles of beer. And for you, Ms Bowers?"
"Oh, good heavens, Dorothy! Claudia, please. Just not Claud, that is a pet name I tolerate from Harri, I said with a smile in my voice. "Harri is right, though, you are beautiful."
She looked down a bit then lifted her head to say, "Then you must call me Dot, or Dotti. All my friends do. What will you have?"
Sitting at the dinner table in her small dining area I consciously crossed my legs, my skirt falling up my thigh to reveal the tab of my garter. I saw her look as I said, "Coffee, please. Just a little sugar, a hint of sweetness, as you are. I want to be in control following Harri home, in case she runs a semi off the road and I have to make a 9-1-1 call."
Dot went to the kitchen to get the drinks and Harri emerged from the bathroom, her baggy shorts seemed tighter somehow.
She came to stand behind my chair and I simply reached back to put my hand on her forearm and leaned against her and the chair back.
She leaned forward and whispered, "You know that denim skirt always makes me hot, Babe. And you would be naked if you didn't wear stockings, wouldn't you?"
I lifted her palm to my lips and kissed it just as Dot returned with a tray with the coffee, a long neck bottle of beer, and a glass filled with a greenish slush, salt around the rim.
I had followed her with my eyes as she moved around her kitchen, and had noticed her firm butt in the tight pants. As she turned in profile and stretched to reach something on an upper shelf, her breasts lifted, she was not wearing a bra under the sweater.
"I know you will take good care of the truck, Harri, it is a reminder of a trip I made some time ago, a very pleasant and good reminder. I just feel you two can enjoy it as much as I have."
There was a look of longing, and loss in her eyes. I leaned over, took her hand in mine and kissed her cheek
Harri moved to her and hugged her in a less than bone crushing embrace.
"Heavens, Harri. Do you always 'pack'?" asked a stunned Dot.
"Most always," was her reply.
I knew she had just her little vibrator in the pocket of her baggies when we left home. Now it was obvious she had my favorite nine incher from the outline on her thigh.
"Well, point that thing someplace else, Dot said, "I am not much for penetration. And I really was not prepared to 'entertain'. Though I must say I really find you both attractive. Especially Claudia."
Harri did not blink at the little snub, she simply said, "Awwwww, Honey, I am not comin' on to you. I'm a one woman gal. Claud is my one and only, but I know she is not getting the lovin' she really enjoys."
I gulped when my girlfriend said this, how could she think I was unsatisfied? She is a tremendous kisser, and even if she doesn't really care for oral, I am very satisfied, extremely satisfied.
I invited her to my home, soon after deciding we would date. My refrigerator actually has lettuce, salads, yogurt, and other real food. I had ascertained she enjoys hamburgers and had the butcher prepare three sirloin patties. As I had never actually boiled potatoes in hot oil, I determined to give it a try and bought peanut oil to refill the fryer in my stovetop. This in response to my query about her favorite meal being, "Burgers and fries, yah Baby!"
I also asked at the bottle store where I usually buy my wines what was the best imported beer, and had a case delivered. I did not think this would be the last time Harri would enjoy my hospitality. Sandra stopped by the afternoon I was expecting Harri and I thought she would have apoplexia when she saw the beer case in the corner of my pantry.
I had left the garage door open and the connecting door propped open as well. When I heard the unmistakeable 'potato-potato-potato' of her Harley-Davidson Nighthawk I pressed the remote to close the garage door behind her.
I turned to the door and shivered when I saw her. Dressed in leather jacket, jeans and chaps, those outrageous sandals. She unbuckled and unsnapped the chaps and I was able to see the long bulge along her right thigh. I went to her and withdrew her jacket, disappointed that I found the binding holding her breasts in place tightly to her chest under a denim sleeveless men's shirt. Would I be able to unbutton the thing with the buttons on the wrong side?
She took me in her arms and greedily kissed me, thrusting her tongue into my mouth, leaving it deep until I understood to suck and chew her flesh. She slid her hands along my nylon running shorts covered asscheeks, my breasts in a matching nylon top. I had slipped out of my shoes when I heard her approach,.
Harri stepped back and laughed, saying, "Babe, do you really think you would go out dressed like that? I mean, stockings?" She burst out in a loud guffaw.
"Of course not. It is just that I appreciate how nylons enhance my legs. I wanted to look especially good for you, Sweetheart."
"Babe, you don't need anything to enhance you. GAWD, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever fucked."
A steely look brought us back to our conversation about 'cheap pickups" and she actually turned a little red before saying, "I mean.....I....I.....dayum, why do you make me all flustered?"
As she was saying this I worked on the intricacies of buttons on the wrong side of a shirt. I now fumbled, but succeeded to reveal her binding from underarms to diaphragm.
"Oh, Darling, why do you do this to yourself?"
"It is just the way I am. Can't compete feeling the way I do and lookin' all girly."
As she said this I released the velcro closing at the side and told her, "When you are with me, this thing stays off. Do you understand?"
