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The lakeside restaurant has a good reputation for its wine cellar, its original food creations, its spectacular view, its conviviality.
‘It’s been over a year. She knows everything about me. There’s nothing to worry about.’ Aida tells herself. ‘I’m only meeting a friend, a good friend… My therapist says I should stop spinning everything and look at life squarely. So… All right! I hope we can be more. So much more.’
She sits in her car, staring at the entrance, watching couples walk in and out, hand in hand, arms around waists, wondering if choosing a gay friendly place was the right thing to do for their first meeting.
‘What if she’s shy about being a lesbian?’ She cringes at the thought. ‘What if she never shows up? What if she lied in all those emails?’
Her youth has been long years of living in fear that her brother or father would discover she was gay, a sin punishable by stoning in her Muslim country. She worked hard at getting a medical degree she could parley into immigration to the United States where her difference is accepted… in some parts of the country at least.
Unconsciously, she rubs her thighs together as she grips the steering wheel, white-knuckled. She feels the heat rise and closes her eyes tightly, visualizing the last picture Hope sent her. She moans softly at the mental construct she built of the body under the severe business suit.
She may be a tough VP of Project Management, but the woman couldn’t disguise the tender look in her eyes as she posed for Aida.
Since they made the date, a week earlier, Hope has gone through a plethora of emotions, most of which are foreign to her make-up.
She is assertive, bossy even. She sets goals for herself and nothing stands in her way for long. She knows who she is, what she wants… Yet she is scared silly of meeting this woman who she feels, in her heart of hearts, is The One.
It took months of emails before Aida dared confess to having feelings for women. Even more for her to admit to being a virgin, one eager to change that status, but waiting for the right woman to give herself to.
They laughed together as she recounted her forays into the lesbian culture, her timid ventures in gay bars. Her love of dancing opened doors to friendships, but she never found Ms. Right.
Fearing she would scare her friend away, Hope never revealed her own special place in the lifestyle, though she confessed to being a lesbian at the onset. She never hid from who she was in her life and she certainly didn’t with Aida. It paid off big time. They’ve become the very best of friends. She’s her only true friend, if truth be told.
Hope drives past the restaurant over and over. She has to make her mind up before someone calls the cops.
In the last week, she has gone through her entire wardrobe, trying to decide on how to present herself to the woman who haunted her dreams for so long. Both of her wardrobes, in fact.
That morning, she took a leisurely scented bath, spent an hour applying the perfect make-up… then broke down crying.
She returned to the bathroom, took a hot shower, scrubbing all traces of the fake persona she created to make her place in the business jungle.
Her decision made, she went to the drawer holding her ‘real’ clothes.
Still panting from the orgasm she has just given herself practically with the sole power of the fantasy about the body Hope kept so carefully hidden under tailored clothes, Aida is startled when a motorcycle pulls in, not ten feet from her car. The others already parked there look like toys beside it. A classic chopper such as she’s seen in movies, it exudes power. It sure is loud.
The driver, in black leather from head to toe, sits back after cutting off the engine. He takes off his black military-looking helmet, runs his hands in his short-cropped sandy blonde hair and stretches the kinks of the road away.
He gets up to store his headgear in a saddlebag, opens his jacket and looks around.
Aida gasps out loud, bringing the… woman’s attention in her direction, but she doesn’t see her so she can take in the black muscle tank showing a red sports bra, the form-fitted black leather pants. The two inch heeled biker boots must make her at least six foot tall. But what really gets her blood boiling are the familiar features, emphasized by the absence of the wavy golden locks she has only seen once out of a severe bun.
The woman takes off her jacket, revealing well-muscled arms to go with the wide shoulders and buff torso. The strong thighs should have been an indication by themselves.
A fresh flow of cream makes itself known. She’s glad she decided to wear a light cotton white flowing skirt with a flower pattern embroidered in white thread to go with her brown understated paisley pattern top. The crochet work under the bust accents her C-cups which she now wishes she had covered with a bra. Her large nipples stand out visibly, not the first impression she was looking for. The second one, well…
The biker casually flips her jacket over Demetevler Rus Escort her shoulder. As soon as the restaurant door closes behind her, Aida is running toward it, her mind made up. As if there had been any other option once the woman turned in her direction.
Her confidence restored once she decided to be herself, Hope drives in the parking lot without hesitation… eventually.
She kicks out the stand and sits back for a moment, savoring the memory of the ride to the restaurant. She loves to hit the road on her powerful hog. As she brushes her crewcut with her fingers, sweat flies from the bristles. Opening her coat, she lets the light breeze dry her body. The sun has sure beat down on her that afternoon.
A familiar noise pulls her attention toward the parking, though nothing catches her eye.
She takes off her jacket and pulls her sweat-soaked top from her back. With a last smile at the blazing sun, she walks to the restaurant.
Jackie is at the hostess stand, as usual. They smile at each other. Years earlier, they had a brief fling and stayed friends after coming to the mutual conclusion that, aside from a fantastic sexual connection, they had little in common.
“Hey, Hope. How are things?”
“Fine, Jayjay. How’s business?”
“Half full, but it’s still early. As you expected. It’s your favorite time to come over, after all.”
“You know it. I made a reservation earlier this week. I’m waiting for someone.”
“I see your packing for action, babe. Does she know…?”
“I’m with her.”
A petite woman presses herself against Hope’s arm, slipping a soft hand in her callused one, interlacing their fingers. The top of her head barely reaches Hope’s shoulder so she has no choice but to look down… into burning dark eyes. If she happens to notice a magnificent pair of breasts, she blames the neckline open to the base of those firm mounds.
“Hello, Aida. You’re right on time. Jackie here has a table for us on the terrace overlooking the water. Or would you prefer to stay inside where it’s cooler?”
“Remember my country of origin?” Her giggle sends shivers down Hope’s spine. “I can stand the heat if you can.”
The tall woman looks at her curiously, wondering if she realizes what she just said. She knows Aida sometimes has trouble with American colloquialisms.
Jackie clears her throat politely, looking at the two women, so different from each other, yet…
“We’ll take the heat, then. Lead the way, Jayjay.”
She doesn’t miss Aida’s raised eyebrow at her use of a familiar nickname. The woman will have to get used to her ways if there is to be any future for them.
At the table, she reaches before Jackie to pull Aida’s chair and push it behind her knees when she sits. The gentlewomanly thing to do would have been to sit across the table, but she wants to enjoy the view too, so she takes the chair at ninety degrees.
She is pleasantly surprised when Aida gets back up and gestures at her to follow suit. Turning the table forty-five degrees, she sits again.
“This way we both will enjoy the scenery.” Her tinkling laugh reaches Hope’s core.
“Thank you. It’s the reason I eat here so often. One of the reasons.” She laughs too. “If you feel adventurous, you should try the chef’s suggestions. He experiments on us with new ones every week.”
“I’m feeling very adventurous today. I thought I would be eating with a business tycoon and I find myself sitting beside a biker. I expected to be grossly underdressed for the sophisticated high-power woman, but I wanted her to see the real me.” She reaches to take Hope’s hand. “Did we have the same idea?”
“We did.” Hope squeezes her fingers. “I was all decked up in my business disguise when I decided that you deserved to know the truth about me. This fancy restaurant with its beautiful view is not where I’m most comfortable. Don’t get me wrong, I love the great food and I’m friends with the owner, but I’d be just as happy at a local diner eating the plate of the day.”
“I could see that. You watched the hostess’ bottom while we followed her. Don’t bristle, dear. I did the same thing. It is a thing of beauty.”
“And she knows it too. She doesn’t sashay that way for every client. We were together for a short time when we were younger and still searching for who we were. It didn’t last.”
“You’re still friends? How do you say it? Friends with benefits?”
“You’re a pistol, you know? I’m beginning to think that your difficulties with our idioms is a coy ploy. To answer your question, as much as we had great sex together, that’s all we had and I don’t want to muddy the waters of a good friendship with false emotions solely based on mutual satisfaction. As much as I disliked her as a girlfriend, I like her as a friend.”
Reaching to cup Hope’s cheek, Aida brings her close to kiss the other one.
“You’re a good woman, Hope. But I knew that. I’ve known it for a long time.” Aida says quietly as she rests her head against Hope’s chest. Otele Gelen Rus Escort “Do you want to blow this joint and hit the road?”
Hope chuckles softly, running her fingers through the woman’s long silky black hair, her hand coming to rest at the back of her heck.
“Please admit that you know exactly what you’re saying and you’re not just quoting random expressions.”
Before she answers, Hope sees the petite woman discreetly take a deep breath. She feels the short hair under her palm rise.
“Remember all the fantasies we shared? There’s one I never wrote. Last month, I went to a club I had heard about. A friend from work took me. It was a rough kind of place. There were these tough women and others I would never have expected to see there. My friend explained that they were butches and their femmes. Since then, I did a lot of research on this social phenomena, but that night I observed attentively. Very attentively. When we danced, a few butches gravitated toward us. We told them we weren’t interested. I lied. One in particular caught my fancy in a big way. We danced together for a bit. When the music switched to a slow number, she pulled me against her.” Aida gulped. “I could feel… She was tall. My face pressed against her breasts. My stomach… It… I wanted her very much at that moment.”
“Did you go with her?” Hope asks softly.
“I could feel cream running down my thighs. It had soaked through my panties.” Without a care about who might be looking their way, she takes the hand Hope has on her knee and brings it higher so she can feel her heat. She knows very well that the wetness will soak through her skirt as it’s pushed against her dripping pussy.
“Did you go with her?” Hope asks again, dreading the answer.
“I wanted to so badly, I almost climaxed on the dance floor when I felt… But I couldn’t. I had to rush to the bathroom, first to masturbate until I regained some control, then to wipe myself to the knees.”
“Why didn’t you let her take you to bed? You clearly wanted it.”
“Because…” She breathes huskily, aroused almost beyond her ability to function rationally. Aida locks gazes with Hope, trying desperately to project the emotions holding her in thrall. She puts her hand squarely on the shape she saw in Hope’s leather pants. “I didn’t go with her because she wasn’t… you.”
Aida comes very close to fainting when Hope claims her lips. She expected a rough possessive kiss. What she gets is all the tenderness she read between the lines over the months of their virtual courtship.
She moans deeply when Hope’s hand brushes the side of her breast through the diaphanous material of her top. She strokes Hope in response.
“You were right.” Hope’s voice is rough with desire. “Let’s blow this joint.”
She has to help Aida to her feet and steady her faltering steps as they walk out. She slips a tip to Jackie for holding the table and squeezes her hand, hard, frowning. The hostess’ smirk vanishes instantly. She knows her former lover is not someone she wants to dislike her in whichever aspects she presents.
When they arrive at her wheels, Hope hesitates. Aida is still glaze-eyed and is hanging on to her arm, caressing her bulging bicep.
“Are you okay to drive, honey?”
“I suppose I have to. I can’t leave my car here.”
“Yes, you can. There’s security for the patrons who drink too much and have to leave their vehicle. Which one is it?” Hope smiles when Aida points to the grey Civic in the front row. That’s the direction the gasp she heard earlier came from. “Stay here. I’ll let the people inside know you’ll be leaving it here for the night.” She easily picks Aida off the ground with both hands at her waist and sits her in the passenger saddle.
Coming back out, she sees three women crowding Aida who looks afraid until she sees her coming. Hope returns her smile. One of the women notices Aida looking behind them and turns. She grabs her friend’s arm and tries to pull her away only to be shrugged off. She and the other woman who had looked over her shoulder take a step back, then another before walking away quickly.
“So, babee, you’re new around here. I’ve never seen you or I’d remember you for sure.” The inebriated woman is telling Aida, invading her personal space.
“I’m here with my girlfriend. You really should leave me alone.” Aida warns her.
The drunk’s hand is nearly on Aida’s thigh when its movement is halted by a steel-like grip as another circles her neck, both squeezing firmly. She tries to get away. To no avail.
“Carmela, what did I tell you about hitting on other women’s squeezes? The last time, you moved in on my friend’s now you try your luck with mine. Bad idea.”
The woman blanches as she feels the bones in her wrist grind together.
“I didn’t know, querida. She was just sitting here, all alone. I was welcoming the señora to our fair city, that’s all. I swear.”
Hope tightens her grip on the woman’s neck and lifts her to the tip of her toes.
“I Balgat Rus Escort have better things to do than to play with you, chica. Get lost.” She throws her away and Carmela uses to momentum to run toward her friends who are waiting for her on the sidewalk.
Aida smiles dreamily at her savior. Hope recognizes the gasp when the petite woman slips her hands under her top and runs them over her chiseled six-pack. With a grin, she reaches around Hope and grabs her ass.
“Is this what you meant when you wrote about ‘buns of steel’?”
They laugh together as Aida holds her close. She pulls back, startled, after putting her head on Hope’s chest. Without thinking, she slips her hands higher and fondles her breasts. Reaching under the sports bra, she gasps again.
“Why do you hide those beauties? I can’t wait to see them.”
“It’s a butch thing. I have to do it at work anyway if I want anyone to look me in the eye and take me seriously.”
“Well, this femme likes her butch full-breasted. It can’t be comfortable for you to squash them like that.”
“I’ve been doing it for so long that I’m used to it. It’s when I leave them free at home that they feel funny.”
“I promise to love them, to kiss them, to caress them all the time if you don’t hide them anymore. Will that help? And if anyone stares at them, I will poke their eyes out. So there.”
Hope laughs good-naturedly, holding the fierce woman who just claimed her with both hands on her cheeks, looking deep in eyes so dark they looked black. She sees the same burning desire she saw earlier and knows it mirrors hers.
Their kiss is electric as their lips part and their tongues join in the timeless dance of love. Aida can’t get enough of running her hands over Hope’s body. This is so much better than any fantasy she ever dreamed up. The butch at the club was puny compared to the woman in her arms.
“Either you take me to your home or I will rape you right here, right now.” Aida pants when they come up for air. To make her point, she lifts her skirt, grabs Hope’s hand and pushes it against her wetness.
“Gotcha. I’m pretty much in the same state.”
Hope pulls two helmets from her saddlebags. Aida’s is too big for her, but she promises to get her a better fitting one. She gives her passenger her leather jacket too and wraps her skirt around her legs to form pantaloons before climbing in front of her. She doesn’t have to tell her to hang on tight. Aida immediately slipped her hands under her muscle top and is hanging on to her breasts.
With a wide smile, she turns on the engine and engages the first gear.
Hope enjoys the ride immensely. It’s been a long time since she had a beautiful woman molded at her back.
Aida enjoys the experience too. She promises herself to ask Hope to take her for a long trip after she slakes her lust for her. She can’t wait to have her behind closed doors. She hopes the tall woman remembers a certain fantasy of hers. In the meantime, she enjoys fondling her breasts, freed from the constraining garment she pushed out of the way early on.
As they take the on-ramp for the short ride on the highway, she pinches Hope’s belly to make her pull it in. When she realizes there’s nothing to pull in, only solid muscle, she unsnaps the pants and pulls the zipper down halfway to give her hand room to reach her goal. She fondles the lifelike shaft along the way, but doesn’t stop until she feels the wet heat she craves. Although she can’t reach very far because of the awkward position and the harness, she crows in triumph when she touches the erect nubbin peeking out of its hood. As advertised, the whole area is soaking wet. She dips her fingers as much as she can and brings them to her mouth. It’s everything she dreamed of and more.
Inspired, she reaches under her skirt and coats her hand liberally with her own essence. Hope can smell the cream on the hand in front of her face because the wind blows its scent directly at her. She opens her mouth wide and takes in as much as she can, licking it clean.
She wonders if they’ll make it to her house. First Aida fingered her clit, now this. She thinks of all the isolated places where they could stop to take the edge off, but she resists. As hot for it as Aida is, she wants her first time to be special. She pushes to the limits of what the highway patrol tolerates. She doesn’t want them to spend their first night together in jail either.
Aida is shivering when Hope pulls in her driveway and uses the remote to open the garage door. It’s still going down when she takes off the leather jacket to drop it on the sissy bar. In a flash, her top is off and she’s pushing Hope’s up, out the way, so she can press her chest on the butch’s skin. Her hands are back on Hope’s breasts, kneading them, pinching the hard nipples between eager fingers.
She whines when Hope takes her hands away to kiss her fingers. With a deft twist, she slips the helmet strap off. She gets up to do the same for her passenger.
As soon as they’re free of the headgear, Aida runs her hands in what little hair Hope has, massaging her scalp, pulling her mouth to hers. Since Hope is so much taller, Aida has her sit on the chopper so she can walk between her legs to press their breasts together. She groans at the feeling of her smaller, firmer ones encased in Hope’s soft flesh, their nipples crushed together. She rubs herself against the hardness in the leather pants, imagining herself impaled on it… Later.
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