Shit!!! Twenty nine frigging years old, and I find out 24 hours ago I am going to be a free woman, a divorcee, a soon to be spinster. That rat bastard husband of eight years needed some younger pussy did he? Well fuck it! I hate men and the stubby little membranes between their legs they use to think with. I would just bury myself in my work, and forget about romance and any kind of a social life. Men! Scumbags!
Shit. What was I thinking? I love the stupid prick of a husband, and without him, I didn't have a clue as to where I would turn or what I would do.
Right now it was year- end closing at Georgetown University and I had a pile of spreadsheets to finish up for the boss, so I had to try and shove the dickhead from my mind. At least Mr. Fuckwad had the decency to tell me he was getting a motel room until he could find a new place to buy, so I wouldn't have to see him when I went home.
It was hard as Hell to concentrate with the anger spewing venom and making my blood boil, but I did manage to get the reports and spreadsheets done for my boss, Jo, short for Josephine, a no nonsense, rough but fair bull dyke lesbian. Many a macho male had had his balls served to him on a silver platter when they tried to cross her, and I so admired her for that. She was no nonsense when it came to work, but adored her sexy femme wife to death and treated her with the utmost love which I admired.
In addition to being a kick ass woman and super accountant, Jo was incredibly intuitive and knew something was wrong with me. After looking over the papers, she leaned back in her leather chair, pushed a hand through her short spiked hair and with a sigh said, "The work looks great. Now tell me what the Hell is eating at you."
I had been quiet all day, but had no idea I had been wearing my 'world hates me' feelings on my sleeve and was that obvious, so I was a little surprised.
"What do you mean Boss?"
"What I mean Adams is that you've produced great work as usual, but you've been moping around all day, so I want to know what's up."
That's my name....Adams....Soon to be Jenkins, my maiden name. I think Rachel goes better with Jenkins than Adams anyway. So take that my dearly beloved. You can have your lousy name back. The thought of the lowlife however brought tears to my eyes for the first time that day, so I guess the protective instinct in Jo got her up from her large oak desk and come around to put her strong hands on my shoulders and say "What is it Adams?"
The bottled up tears really began to flow at that point. It felt strange to be taken in the arms of your boss, and a woman on top of that, but I didn't give a damn. Right now I took comfort in her arms and as the tears just flowed, I whimpered, "The Son-of-a-bitch left me last night."
I think Jo read between the lines and all she did for a silent 30 seconds was just rock me and rub up and down my back, giving me some time to let the gusher flow. Finally I was able to stop sobbing and Jo held me by the shoulders at arm length and calmly said, "So you want me to kick his ass for you Blondie?"
It was the first time I had laughed in probably a week.... I take that back...first time I had laughed in the past year of marriage. I knew the marriage had died out and last night was just the culmination of growing apart. But at 29, I still felt lost. I was no glamour girl at 5'4" 153 pounds, but was always told I had a pretty face with big almond collard eyes and full pouty lips. I did have some pretty massive breast cycles and a big round bubble butt ass that shook a bit. Right now I was feeling ugly and overweight and that those pouty lips would never suck another man's cock, and I would be a celibate spinster for the rest of my life.
"Thanks for the offer Jo. I appreciate it, but I want the rat bastard to live long enough for some slimy lawyer to take every penny he has."
That made Jo chuckle and she added "That's the spirit. I've tried to tell you Pussy is better than Weenies any day, but you just never would listen."
That brought another laugh from me. Jo was incredible at knowing just the right thing to say and solving personal as well as business problems. I had no problems with gay sex, and even experimented a few times in High School and College, but I know I am 99.9% hetero, even though I always get my heart broken by dumbass inconsiderate Pricks. I just thought my husband was different and it would last forever, and I wouldn't be so easily replaced by a younger skinny Minnie.
"My wife and one of her friends are joining me here and we are going out for some entertainment and a few drinks." DC recently passed same sex marriage, and Jo and her "wife" were the first in line, though they had lived together for 7 years previously.
I was in no mood to party, so I told her 'no' but she wouldn't let it rest and finally convinced me to join them around 8:30 pm, a half hour before her lover and friend would arrive. I had some last minute things to clean up, so I returned to my cubicle and began tidying up.
By the time I was finishing up, I heard Stacy, Jo's wife, and their friend enter the office. I looked over, and immediately did a double take. The woman entering with Stacy had an uncanny resemblance to my idiot husband. Same height at around 5'9", same buff build, only her face had softer features and her short black hair hung below her ears. It was like seeing a ghost and I know she must have thought I was crazy for blatantly staring at her.
Stacy introduced her as Dennie (short for Denise) and I shook her large strong hand and looked into her piercing blue eyes. She was dressed in skin tight jeans which accentuated her round muscular ass, and she looked to be about my age, though I later found out she was 36. It was a hot and humid summer night in Washington, so she was wearing a sleeveless muscle shirt, and although she didn't have the beef of Jo, her arms were tanned and toned and it was very evident that she worked out. I learned that she was a Prosecutor in the Obama administration, so it was evident that this handsome woman had looks, brawn, AND brains.
When she smiled with glorious perfect, white teeth I felt something stir in me, which scared the Hell out of me. I'm a woman who adores and worships cocks, penises, dicks, phallic devices of all kinds as long as they are blood filling flesh and not dangling plastic. I AM NOT GAY....So why did I feel a strange tingle in my pussy in the presence of this fascinating woman?
I turned away from her and tried to find some busy work at my cube just to buy time, collect my thoughts and try and catch my breath. Maybe it was just that I adored my husband, and the two of them could have been fraternal twins. Why did she have to be a freakin' woman? God she was hot! 'What the Hell was I saying? Come on Rachel, get a grip. You're NOT Les. You're NOT Les. You're NOT Les.'
After Jo did some last minute work on the files, we were ready to go and headed to one of their favorite lesbian clubs called Phaze 1. I have the admit as we entered, the place was incredible at first glance. Beautiful chandeliers and red curtains hung with a soft light and the place was packed with every assortment of woman, some making out, some sharing a drink and getting to know each other, some having dinner, and some dancing to a hard beating hip hop.
It felt nice but strange to be there and even stranger when Dennie put her hand in the small of my back to lead me to our booth as we followed Jo and Stacy. The waitress showed us to our booth and Jo and Stacy took one side, and Dennie waited for me to enter the other side, then slid in... a little too close beside me.
Having a gay boss and living in DC should have prepared me for what was happening all around me, but seeing every size, shape and color of woman 'on the make' just blew my mind, yet I found myself loosening up and enjoying it...a little more than I would have liked to admit to myself.
After Leslie, our pretty waitress disappeared for our drinks, Jo took Stacy's hand and led her to the dance floor, leaving me alone with Dennie, and my strange feelings I was experiencing around her. We smiled at each other as we watched Jo and Stacy tear up the dance floor. I had no idea my big tough boss could move like she did.
After three dances, Jo and Stacy returned to our booth, and I was somewhat sorry, because in the brief moment that they were away, Dennie was making me laugh and have an incredible time just listening to her wonderful stories and wit about her job, her hobbies and yes, her lifestyle.
After all of us finished two drinks I was feeling a little buzz, which probably explains why I didn't say 'no' when Dennie asked me to dance a slow dance. The DJ announced "The Moment" by Framing Hanley. I had never heard the song, but it was beautiful, and when Dennie took me in her arms to lead, I felt that same strange twinge in my chest and crotch that I felt when I met her. I hated to admit to myself but Dennie was better company and more intelligent than my stupid husband ever could wish to be, and I was beginning to thoroughly enjoy my time with her. I repeat...'God, why couldn't she be a man?'
We had been at the club for 2 ½ hours and being held firmly in Dennie's arms was the highlight of the evening, as much as I hate to admit it. I don't know if it was the beers or my horniness of having a sexless marriage for the past 6 months, but I found myself almost melting into her arms as she led me around the dance floor. Her hands seemed to move a little lower to the top of my ass as I locked my fingers around the back of her neck and just glided effortlessly with her lead.
I didn't realize I had closed my eyes until I felt Dennie's warm breath as she whispered in my ear that she really enjoyed the evening and didn't want it to end. My heart began to pound 100 beats a minute when she surprised me and asked if I would like to leave and go to her place.
Scared to death, I broke our embrace and excused myself as I almost ran to the ladies room to escape. I quickly entered the first available stall and although I didn't have to pee, I sat on the toilet to try and get my bearings. What the Hell was happening? I was a smart woman. Moral. Semi -Christian. And Hetero Hetero Hetero. No matter how many times I told myself that, I still couldn't deny that Dennie was showing me the time of my life, and I had never met anyone as remarkable as her.
I came to no conclusions, but realized I couldn't hide in the stall until closing and somehow sneak home without Jo, Stacy and Dennie seeing me. I took a huge breath, plastered on my best smile and exited the ladies room and headed back to our booth. Dennie got up; looking concerned and allowed me to slide in, then sat beside me.
