This story, and all my stories, contain fictionalized characters from memories of my life.
I am a 60+ year old BI woman. My stories are memoirs spiced with kinky imagination. I am submissive by natural inclination in most relationships. If you like kinky mature bi women I hope you will like my stories.
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I love the new ride, black, fast, sexy and goes topless. Me in automobile form. Unfortunately, with the new car comes the inevitable trip to the DMV. The dreaded Department of Motor Vehicles. I had a plan, I'll get there early and beat the inevitable lines. Of course I arrive only ten minutes after they open and the parking lot is already nearly full. Oh well, I brought along a book to read so I'll live through it.
As almost everyone in the United States knows going to the DMV is running a gauntlet. First there is the desk to prequalify you for their attention. A usually, in my experience, rude, or at best curt, person who checks your paperwork and gives you a number, a number that is always seemingly impossibly far from the number flashing in the "currently serving" overhead sign. But before you can even get a number there is of course a line of people waiting to be granted an audience.
When I walked in there were already four people waiting so I got in line, number five waiting for a number. The fellow in front of me smelled like he had not bathed in weeks except maybe in bourbon. I backed away. A moment later a new arrival tapped me on the shoulder and said: "Excuse me, are you in line?" I guess I backed away a little more than I thought. I turned, smiled and nodded yes. Our eyes met momentarily. Beautiful green eyes. I turned and resumed my wait thinking about the woman, those amazing eyes, standing behind me. What I might not have actually seen my mind filled in. My height, younger at about 35 years old, very curly mid length red hair, pretty with a great smile, lots of freckles on her face.
I heard her talking on her phone. Some not happy conversation about something being inevitable, how it was not the first time. When Rude Lady behind the desk told her cell phone use was not allowed she simply said to her caller. "Thanks for coming, I'll see you when you arrive." I imagine she then, as instructed by Rude Lady, turned the phone off.
My turn at the Rude Lady desk. I give her all my paperwork and tell her I am here to get plates and registration for my new car. She says: "I can see that." She looks over the bill of sale, tax payment receipt and registration application and hands me back all my paperwork and a slip of paper with a number and tells me to have a seat. I'm now number 421. 399 is "currently being served."
I have a seat and take out my book and begin to read. Not four pages in the woman who was behind me in line sits beside me. I say hello just casually and she says: "Hi, I'm Lara. Welcome to the DMV."
"Nice to meet you Lara, I'm Robin." Now I can look at her without being a gawker. As I thought she looks to be about 30 - 35. Interesting mix of red hair, green eyes and lots of freckles. Very sexy. She is well dressed in navy blue skirt and a white top with nice casual white flats. As I look at her I can see she is a big woman, not fat just large. Her choice of outfit gives away a lot. Her sleeveless top reveals bra straps digging into her shoulder a bit to hold up her rather ample breasts.
Lara starts a conversation by saying: "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I heard to have a new car." She continues: "I have an old car I love and can't seem to part with but I did see a beautiful little BMW convertible in the parking lot that made me think maybe it was time."
"Black one?" I ask.
She replies: "Yes, a black one with a black top."
I tell her "that's mine" and the conversation shifts quickly like we had now linked on the car conversation and now we could talk. She tells me she hopes she was not too loud on the phone. It was embarrassing when the woman told her to turn off her phone.
I told her I could hear her but I doubt others could and it sounded like a conversation she didn't want to be having anyway. Lara replied: "Yes it was my sister, going through a bad time with her creep husband." I could see freckles and cleavage between the buttons of her top.
I want to shift the conversation so I mention that it must be nice to have a sister to talk to and that I don't have any siblings. That's it, we'll talk about family, not "creep husbands."
Lara replies: "It really is nice. She is my twin and we talk every day." She adds: "Thank god for unlimited cell phone minutes." She smiles and I see she has beautiful white teeth.
I'm curious. "Your twin? Identical?"
Almost before I finish, as though she had anticipated the question she says: "Very much identical. Even today at 32 if we dressed the same and did our hair the same we are identical." I can see freckles on the tops of her thighs just below the lower edge of her skirt. As Lara shifts position in her seat more and more is visible.
Conversation with Lara was easy. It's almost as if we were old friends who had not seen each other in a while and were catching up. I learned that she was single, had never married and now that her sister was having all this trouble she was glad.
I thought I might test her. I told her she was a very attractive woman and I imagined she had many opportunities. I think she knew what I was looking to find out and didn't hesitate to fill in the answer when she said: "Oh yes but the one 'person' I thought I loved preferred another. She touches my hand almost signaling but not saying: "I prefer women."
Without even an awkward moment she shifted the conversation to me and my life. I filled in background without giving away any details of my current situation. She asked if I was married. I replied that long ago I was but that it had ended badly.
