There’s something about having a drink after a long day that always feels soothing.
This time, Rena and I stopped at the local Manhattan pub, “Lush”. It was happy hour and I intended on getting happy. After working a long and very busy nine hours in a law office paraded by arrogant male attorneys, I was through. When asked to work over-time on a long civil suit, I was convinced we’d lose, I’d abruptly answered “No!”
“Ms. Sanders, you’re our best legal aid and I see bright stars in your future.”
That’s exactly what he, my boss Mr. Finestein, said eight years ago when he hired me. I was over-worked, under paid, and tired. It was precisely why I was still single. My lover had been my career, with little benefits and no four-play. I told him “bye” and walked through the door.
If it hadn’t been for the fact that I was, in fact, his best aid, I’m sure he would have given me a harder time.
“Dasia, you want another drink?”
Rena was our office assistant. Although she was nine years my junior I had grown fond of her. She reminded me of a younger version of myself. So full of life, a great sense of humor and driven. She was finishing up her junior year in college with high hopes of becoming a criminal prosecutor. I just hope she knows “Finestein & Co.” wasn’t gonna help her get there.
“Why so down Dasia? Even after three Long Islands you still have that grim look on your face.”
Before I could answer she interjected, “Don’t tell me, I know. You need a man.”
Usually I would dispel her accusations, but, I left it alone. Deep down I knew she was right. It wasn’t so much I needed a man but I wanted one. I wanted to be loved. To be hugged, or even just someone to talk to. I needed a boo.
The last time I went on a date was six months ago. I spent the entire night staring at his yellow stained teeth, wide gap and atrocious laughter. His name was Gary, I think.
Whatever. But, I knew one thing, Gary wasn’t it. Whatever that it was, I wasn’t sure, but Gary just wasn’t it.
The bar was full of middle-aged men checking out the ladies, all seven of us. I hadn’t noticed when a group of, what I thought, were five men strolled in looking for a vacant table.
Almost immediately the smallest, standing at a mere 5 “6”, approached the bar.
“Can I have three rum and cokes and two coronas please?”
Even with the dimmed lighting it didn’t take long to realize I knew this person. A voice I was all too familiar with. She’d been my college roommate. As if she too had noticed a familiar figure in her presence she turned to her left to see me sitting there. She greeted me with a smile and I stared blankly in her almond eyes, full lips, smooth honey caramel complexion and heart-shaped faced. She’d grown locks and had dyed them a light auburn.
“Dasia, is that you?”
All I could do was nod. This run in had caught me by surprise. Somehow I was able to conjure up a “Hi Stevie. What a surprise it is to see you.”
I’d almost forgotten Rena was sitting there. A flash of memory from my school days came flooding through my mind almost all at once. I took a quick glimpse back at the party she traveled with. They were all women! I tried to stifle a small chuckle but erupted in a loud boisterous laughter. I must have had a few too many drinks after all.
They both stared at me suspiciously. Still laughing I tried to explain. “I thought, I thought you were all, you were all men (erupts in more laughter).”
They couldn’t help but join in too, laughing along with me.
Rena and I had already been at the bar for about two hours and I knew we should be going but something kept me sitting there.
“Dasia who’s your friend?” Rena wanted to know.
“Oh I’m sorry this is Stevie. My old college roommate.”
The entire time since her gaze met mine she hadn’t blinked. It was almost intimidating. I was nervous but didn’t want to show it. She always made me nervous. Which lesbian could make a straight women wet her draws in mere seconds?
I introduced the two. Rena, somehow, sensed the tension and suggested we leave. After all, it was only Wednesday.
“Maybe we should get going Dasia. We might have another long day tomorrow.”
“Oh no, you can go ahead,” I said.
Rena gathered her purse, gulped down the last of her drink, stopped for a moment and stared with a concerned look on her face before asking, “You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Just make sure to hail a cab home. It’s too late to commute with those four drinks you just had.”
She laughed half-heartedly, “No need to worry. You know I’m straight. I should be worried about you.”
Stevie, standing there listening to our exchanges, answered before I could.
“Oh don’t worry about her. She’s fine. I’ll make sure she gets home alright. You have my word on that,” still staring.
I don’t know why I sat there but I did.
Rena proceeded to leave and my gaze met Stevie’s. Everything was just still and silent for what seemed like forever. No words spoken; just a million and one thoughts and emotions running through my mind and body.
I took her in for the first time. It had been eight years. She looked good. I mean, good in the sense that perhaps life hadn’t been too harsh these last several years. But she looked good too.
I remember she was always into eating healthy and working out so it didn’t come as a surprise there was some definition under a fitted white tee and unbuttoned blue and white stripe button up.
I came to when someone from her party suddenly yelled out, “Hey Stevie, where’s the drinks?”
She excused herself, brought the drinks over to her friends and came back almost immediately.
“Dasia, wow how long has it been? What, almost eight years ago right? What have you been up to?”
I didn’t answer but began to nod all the while still staring.
Although we shared a dorm all four years while attending college it wasn’t until senior year it happened.
One night. Another lonely Friday night, while all my friends were out I was in my dorm studying for an exam two weeks away. I figured I had nothing eventful going on so I might as well get an early start.
She burst through the door and startled me. I hadn’t expected her back so soon. Last I heard she was going to a dorm-room party just down the hall. A “lesbian affair”. I wasn’t interested.
She was openly gay and I openly didn’t care. It was one of the things she liked about me.
“Why are you back so early?”
“Ah nothing. Just wanted to make sure you were alright. Why don’t you come hang with us for a little while? You’re always here, alone, studying. You need some fun in your life.”
“I like fun just not that kind of fun.”
“What kind of fun are you referring to,” she asked.
“You know. What you all like I don’t.”
She chuckled a bit and I quickly changed the subject. But something was odd. Her eyes looked glassy and I noticed she couldn’t stand straight without wobbling.
“Are you drunk?”
“Who me? Nah.”
She started to chuckle again and looked as if, this time, she would pass out at any moment so I hopped off the bed in time to hold her up. Her dead weight was too much for my small frame and we landed on the bed.
Again, I noticed, something was odd.
Before I could react she kissed me. And in a state of shock I jumped up frantically and began pacing.
“What was that?! What’s wrong with you?”
She didn’t hear a thing. She got up backed me up against the wall, the one between the door and twin bed, and began kissing me again.
This time harder. Faster. And while I tried to push her away and refuse her advances I quickly realized, I liked it.
Her left hand moved up my thigh grabbing my very round and firm ass while the right caressed my breast.
My kittie was on fire. Pulsating, throbbing, yearning for a touch, any touch. It needed to be pet and she was willing, almost too eager, to stroke the cat.
For a moment, I forgot it wasn’t a man who was touching me. She was attentive, and even through her anxiousness she was careful not to rush things, but didn’t hesitate for too long either. Her kisses were easy. Not like a man, too impatient to get things going while my needs were left unattended to.
Her left hand had somehow slide between my legs and grazed my lips, slide up and penetrated my cat. Her finger, then two, then three began to thrust in a rhythmic fashion.
I was drenched in my own nectar. So much so, I was a little embarrassed by the small puddle on the floor.
How did we even get on the floor?
Before I could figure out what was happening she kissed my lips, sucked on the bottom and slid down. She began kissing my neck, breasts, belly button until she had reached her destination.
Stroke, smooch, pet the kittie. She did this three times. Stroke, smooch, pet the kittie. By the third time I was almost yelling for more. My moans became louder, more intense, more urgent. “Don’t stop,” I said.
She whispered, “I won’t”.
The more I moaned and louder I became she moved with more vigor.
Stroke, smooch, pet the kittie. I climaxed.
“Dasia, you okay?”
“Oh yes, yes, I’m fine. Just reminiscing.”
“Oh really, about what?”
We both laughed.
We talked for what seemed like hours. We talked about college, our fondest moments, moments we’d like to forget but never about our night together. By the time I looked at my watch it was ten thirty.
“Wow Stevie, I have to go. I have an early start tomorrow. It was nice seeing you and everything but I really should get going.”
Her party had left an hour ago. They’d grown impatient and decided to leave her with me still sitting at the bar.
“Wait, I can take you home. I actually drove to the city tonight. Don’t worry about it. I got you.”
Something about the way she said that last comment made me nervous.
We walked out the pub. Two more Long Islands in I was, let’s just say, very happy. She actually hadn’t had anything other than the corona she ordered at the bar and she held my hand as she assisted me to the car.
When we got there, I practically threw myself at the passenger door. I was fully intoxicated. Still very much aware of what was happening but intoxicated.
It was dark no one was around and she came closer until her lips grazed mine. We kissed intensely, slowly and passionately. She fondled my breasts, caressed my things until she found the cat. Her touch was still the same; eager, precise and yet gentle.
I heard moans that sounded like mine but wasn’t sure who the owner had been. She kissed me again, longer this time and held me close.
She opened the door, we slid in and preceded to devour each other.
Something told me this would be part two. A tale of two kitties, hers and mine.