Sometimes, you just know something will happen. Sometimes you don't have a clue. And sometimes, you are afraid to hope so as not to ruin anything.
We'd been friends for months – and getting closer all the time. She read my writing, watched me in the room with a special girl friend and who knew what went on in her mind – none of us do.
The idea was planted in the chatroom, we teased each other and all the other chatters about what we'd do. They knew my reputation and assumed. We allowed it. But the ideas were in both of our heads – we laughed at first, then like women, we talked about it.
At first the idea of a threesome was appealing. We had a man in mind, but even before we knew he wasn't going to join us, we no longer wanted the company.
There really is nothing like anticipating something all day. It's the most delicious feeling. I was so excited to meet this woman who's been so special in my life already – no matter WHAT happened. I just knew that we'd have fun and laugh and enjoy each other. I also knew that despite what we decided to do or not do, our time would end far too soon.
I put the key lime bars in the fridge – the hotel didn't have a freezer. They'd be gooey – but oh well. Little did I know...
I only had one experience with a woman. She was wonderful and taught me that although I was straight, that women can touch you in a way that's different from men. And she helped me embrace that you shouldn't pick who you loved just by their sex – but by who they are. I'm lucky in that experience – not many people have had that opportunity.
Now while Kirsten hadn't been with a woman and said to herself and others that it probably wouldn't happen, she'd always been a woman who thrived on self discovery. She is sexy and sassy and smart as a whip... and tall.
She knocked on my door and we hugged for about 2 minutes – laughing and just hanging on tight. She smelled so fresh and light – a scent I was familiar with. It was so good to meet. She's so much more beautiful than her pictures. These green eyes that are filled with intelligence and humor just pop off her face. Her smile lights up her face. Her hair was about the same as mine, a dark auburn – almost a chestnut color. We were both in black – her in a very revealing black tank top showing her pale skin and great chest. She wore blue jeans that enhanced her long legs. I was in heels and still needed to look up.
She came inside the hotel room and I gathered my things, blew out my scented candle and we went off to dinner. Conversation flowed easily, we laughed in the car, at the restaurant, at the newbie waitress that was fairly clueless. We said a mini laughing prayer over the ribs hoping it wasn't our friend – then laughing a lot about that. Our phones were both ringing and we talked to a few people. But our focus was on each other and the fact that we were finally together having a great time.
We drank throughout our meal and our inhibitions were dropping. We went to a local bar where she knew the bartender. He flirted heavily and so did all the men at the bar. Maybe it was the chemistry, maybe the alcohol, or maybe just the devilish side of both of us, but we decided to have some fun with the men at the bar. Nothing was said, mind you, just some looks to each other and casual touches between us and we immediately had the entire bar's attention.
When something funny was said, in my laugh I leaned in closer to her... looking up in to her eyes. Sometimes when I whispered in her ear, I'd stroke a finger up her arm. The response from the men at the bar was more and more intense. They stopped watching whatever game was playing on the TV and were watching us. JT, the bartender, loved it – more and more people were coming over to the bar getting drinks and he was giving us the attention we were craving.
We kept touching each other and the men who came over and flirted with us. We gave the impression that we'd been intimate and the men were all over that. The drinks kept flowing – we hadn't paid for any of them. The inhibitions were gone and the touching got more intimate. My nails scraping down her jean-clad leg, her finger taking the caramel from the martini glass and letting me taste it off her finger. The men at the bar were almost drooling.