Author's note: this piece was suggested to me as a challenge as a straight woman to open my mind, any mistakes in it are completely my own. Thank You, Alan, for the idea. I would very much like to thank Hymir and angellove for their help with editing. I would also like to thank barby, Hymir and realmacdaddy for their help with the construction itself.
"So? Where's Mr. Train schedule man?" Sue asked.
"Probably still counting his receipts or tying his shoelaces," I responded.
Sue chuckled, "So he's history then?"
"Yep," I rolled my eyes. "What was I thinking?"
"Honey, you weren't thinking, or wasn't that the point?"
"Well he did have nice legs . . . "
Sue put her drink down to keep from sputtering. She joined me laughing over that one. I smiled to myself. He did have nice legs. Our waiter was long in coming with lunch so our gossip continued.
"So this means you are free Saturday night?" she asked.
"Looks it," I said. "Unless you think our waiter is free . . . "
Sue shook her head wryly. As if on cue the fourteen-year-old refugee from the mall dropped off our waters as he wandered off in what I could only hope was in search of our food.
"Saturday night, eight, and . . . ," she screwed me with her no nonsense look until she had my complete attention, "No jeans and those T-shirts that say, 'I would rather have my microscope'."
Grumbling, "Sure, whatever." I liked my T-shirt thank you very much. "And," I sighed. "Yes I'll bring the fudge," I offered before she could ask.
Rattling glasses was the only warning I had before Sue emitted an ear piercing squeal, and hugging me, "You're the best."
The meal was rather lackluster. Kind of like our waiter. "
Isn't it against the law to hire those who still belong in diapers,"
I wondered.
Saturday came quickly, as it had been one of those crazy-hectic six day weeks that always seemed to happen right before Christmas. On my drive home, I checked the voice mails on my mobile that had collected during the day. A cheery voice threatened, "Eight o'clock, and oh don't be late. I still remember why your dad's twenty-year-old scotch went missing. See ye." Click.
I had forgotten about the party. I groaned. I had not asked Sue just what kind of party she had planned. I groaned again. Sue liked to push the envelope with her parties. One year she actually staged a robbery. Right in the middle of prime rib, several men broke in with guns. After several tense moments and the sound of Velcro, they began to striptease.
Hmm, good party,
I remembered.
Thankfully the ride home was short, unusual for a Saturday. It was a bit of a rush job but I got the fudge going and slipped into the shower while it set. Thankfully my on-going chocolate addiction meant I always had ingredients for fudge in the house. Stepping out of the shower I browsed through my closet. Sue's digs about my wardrobe hit a little close to home. Feeling devilish, I grinned to my self as I dragged out my slacks. Sleek and black, they clung to my hips like leather, riding so low that my tattoo was visible. Deciding to mess with Sue's head a bit, (sometime I think she believed that my jeans and lab coat were fused to my skin), I grabbed some black gauze, thick but still transparent, I had left over from a previous sewing project. With a quick hem and the addition of a couple of silk ties, I had a simple top. I donned a lacy black bra, just barely visible through the screen and I was dressed to kill.
I hated to leave my running shoes behind, as they were comfortable. I sighed as it looked like tonight I would miss my evening run. It was time to be bold, so I dragged my black heels out of the back of the closet. I slipped on the strappy, black velvet, two inch heels and made for the kitchen.
The blinking on the clock showed I was running late, so without even bothering to cut the fudge I grabbed the pan and my keys and headed out the door. The drive was just long enough to make my palms clammy as I realized
, "Yep, my bra really was visible through my shirt. Gulp. Well Sue had something in her closet I am sure, I could just nip in and grab
."
I was late. The noise from her house was audible even over the din of my
Nine Inch Nails
CD. A quick shake of my head to resettle my hair and in the door I walked. Her kitchen was empty. Quickly, I grabbed a knife and borrowed one of her plates arranging the fudge in bite size pieces. I grabbed a piece of fudge and started my dash for the back stairs to Sue's bedroom.
The kitchen door slammed before I finished my getaway. In walked Sue and another woman, whom I thought perhaps vaguely I had met before. Chattering as she usually does, Sue directed the other woman, "Ok let me grab the punch. Can you grab the serving spoon and oh more napkins out of the closet right next…?" Sue's voice trailed off as she finally spied me.
"Wow," she whistled, "hot damn!" She surveyed me like meat on a platter. I think I almost punched her right then and there. Noticing the fudge in my hand, she barked, "Hey save some of the fudge for the rest of us."
"Sue, do you mind if . . . "
"No," she interrupted. "You are not raiding my closet. Get out there, girl."
Groaning, I appealed to the other woman, "She's crazy, you know."
Sue laughed. The woman smiled confidently, "Grab the napkins, will you, and the fudge while I help Sue find her spoon."
Sue interrupted the woman telling her, "Better grab that fudge before she takes it in there, you know this crowd.'
A soft chuckle and the woman smiled. She grabbed a piece of fudge, her long fingers gracefully lifting one off the plate when I offered it to her. With my escape now firmly cut off, I gritted my teeth and firmly resolved to have a drink as soon as possible. Liquid courage would have to do when there was none other to be had. So sliding out Sue's kitchen door, a smile plastered on my face and the plate of fudge blandished high, I entered the living room.
In the corner was a lovely buffet table already filled with many dessert options. Looking for an open spot, I moved over to place the plate down.
"Hmm, now where was the bar?"
Ahh, there it was right behind the gentleman with the pipe in his pocket. Smiling, I asked him, "What's looking good tonight?"
He mentioned the scotch was good. Not even bothering with the water, I poured some straight on the rocks and took a swallow. After the first burning bite, I settled down and sipped it like any sane person. I took a moment to survey the room. A few faces I recognized, but most were new to me. Not unusual considering Sue was one of those people whom an hour delay on the bus meant she had twelve new friends and a date for Thursday night. A slight shifting to my left and a tall gentleman appeared at my side.
He put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Hey little lady. Who might you be?"
"John," a voice chastised, "Give her some space before you find yourself kneed to the floor."
"Ahh Lara, do you always have to claim the pretty ones for yourself?" he chuckled.
Ignoring him, Lara turned to me. "Never mind him. John's a big flirt," she smiled.
"I'm Lara. I work with Sue on occasion when she books travel stuff for my firm. This here is John."
Extending his hand he said, "A pleasure to meet you."
I grasped his hand, shook it and replied, "Likewise."
"Would you like to meet some of the other guests?" Lara asked. "Now," she continued as she turned and starting pointing out guests, "as you know Rachel here just accepted Tony's collar last week. Sue was a dream to host their party here . . . "
The introductions took a while, but Lara stayed with me, and we slowly got to know one another. Apparently Sue had asked her to show me around a bit, knowing that with my vanilla background and a tendency to be shy I might be a little uncomfortable with this open and slightly raucous group.
Lara filled me on some more details about what most at the party referred to as the, "lifestyle." Most of it was familiar to me as one can't hang out long with Sue without being open minded. I quickly found myself comfortable and learned new tricks to do with my silk ties at home and some more fantasies for my nights. Lara left me as I talked with Rachel and learned about her lovely new Rottweiler puppy, her first date with Tony and about what the lifestyle meant to her. When I left Rachel, I had her phone number and plans for a movie in couple weeks.
I mingled at the party, enjoying myself. I would catch occasional whiffs of Lara's perfume as she passed by or the sound of musical laughter ringing in the room. Magically, I kept finding my glass refilled as the night went on. I still don't remember how that happened. The gentleman at the table, Lane as I later learned his name was right, it was good scotch. Puppy stories changed to house stories to the occasional sex stories.
It was after midnight when I walked over to the buffet table hoping to get another bite of fudge, but the plate was empty, as were most of the plates on the table. A whiff of that perfume caught my nose again. I turned and there was Lara, smiling. I still am not sure how she did it, but when she opened her hand there were two pieces of my fudge. Gently she lifted a piece and brought it to my mouth. She laid it smoothly on my tongue, and I got a taste of her fingers, warm and lightly salty.
Blushing I said, "Thank you," mumbling a bit as the chocolate melted in my mouth. She chuckled at my reaction and slipped the other piece into her own mouth.
