After two years of community college in my home town I moved 150 miles away to attend a large university. I'd been busy settling in and getting started in my classes and hadn't really had a chance to meet anybody. It made for some lonely times. Rather than sit around and feel sorry for myself, I flipped through the yellow pages determined to find something fun to do on a Saturday night. An ad for a bar that featured country music and dancing caught my eye. I had only been old enough to go to bars for a couple of months and my experiences so far had been disappointing. Guys seemed to hit on me the moment I arrived and many of them acted like I was a prick teaser when I politely refused their offers of drinks and their company. But I loved country dancing and I decided to take a chance that the cowboy types would be secure enough to handle a mild rejection.
I put on my best western shirt, which had pink and white stripes and closed with pearly snaps, then slipped into a pair of soft, comfortably snug jeans. My favorite dancing boots finished the outfit. I did a happy little shuffle and smiled at myself in the mirror. "Looking good, Blondie," I told myself and went off, planning to dance the night away.
As I opened the door to enter the bar I was hoping that if I met some cute guys, they wouldn't turn out to be creeps. To tell the truth, I was beginning to be horny enough to lower my standards a bit. My ex-boyfriend (and one and only lover) was nothing much between the sheets, but nobody touching me intimately except myself was getting old.
The first person I saw when I went in wasn't a guy, cute or otherwise. It was a stunningly beautiful woman. Now, I've always admired the female body in painting and sculpture and I had taken my share of sneak-peeks at my classmates attributes in the locker room, but I had always considered myself strictly hetero. So I was surprised to find myself holding my breath and getting warm all over at the sight of this glorious creature.
She was very tall (5 foot 10 and a half, I later discovered) with creamy skin, long silky black hair, huge eyes the color of melting chocolate, and a killer smile that lit up the whole room. When I could tear myself away from that amazing face I found that the rest of her was just as amazing. Her black silk cowboy shirt outlined a fine pair of lush, full tits and her tight black jeans caressed a perfect peach-shaped bottom. And then there were her legs. Her thighs seemed to go on forever! "I bet SHE has guys standing in line to go down on her," I thought. It still pissed me off that my ex-boyfriend wouldn't do that for me. But a man would have to be crazy or gay not to want to bury himself between those long, sexy legs and give her whatever she craved.
Before I could embarrass myself by gaping at her any longer, a guy came up and asked me to dance. I gratefully got out onto the floor with him and kept dancing for most of the next couple of hours, with various partners. Finally I had to take a break and rest up. Several men offered to buy me a drink as I made my way off the floor. They let me go without comment when I refused as sweetly as I could, but I could tell they were annoyed. At least they weren't as rude as the guys at the rock clubs.
I got a drink at the bar and flopped down at a table where I could watch the dancing. A short while later the beauty I had seen when I came in made her way over to my table.
"Are you buying your own drinks because you want to be alone," she asked, flashing a blinding smile, "or are you just trying to avoid those cowboys who want to get in your pants?"
"Something like that," I said, smiling back. "Please, sit down."
"First I need to warn you that I'd also like to get in your pants, but I'm not so arrogant to think you'd owe me that for the price of a drink."
The flush of heat I'd felt when I first saw her was nothing compared to the hot flood that passed through my body now and concentrated in a burning scald between my legs.
"So, you're a lesbian?" I haltingly asked.
"Well, since I just admitted I'd like to make love to you and since you are clearly a woman, I guess that makes me a lesbian. Would you like me to move on?"
"No, no," I said, in way too much of a hurry. "Please, I'd really like to talk to you, but I'm not ..."
"Into women? That's OK. I'm capable of just being friends with girls I find attractive, believe it or not." She sat down next to me, facing the dance floor as I was. Just two gals resting and watching the dancing. Except the only thing on my mind was the thought I'd had earlier about how great it would be to lay down between those long, elegant legs of hers.
We introduced ourselves. "I'm Lacey," she told me.
"My name is Allison."
We chatted about our backgrounds and I discovered she was a farm girl from an adjoining state, now in her first year of veterinary school at my university. Her eyes really lit up when she talked about growing up in the country and how much she was looking forward to the day she could go home and open her practice. The local vet, who had known her all her life, had already promised to hire her and eventually retire and leave the business to her. Her enthusiasm really touched me and I found myself liking her very much.
We got up to dance again when a couple of guys approached us and both of us stayed out on the floor for better than an hour. Just as I was ready for another rest, she came up to me and asked if I'd like to come to her place for a drink.
"Just to talk," she said with a smile. "After all, we out-of-town girls need all the friends we can get."
