Page 02
"Here, honey...take it."
The next moment, Sylvia's mouth was full of luscious tit. She moaned, sucking greedily on her friend's breast. She'd never encountered a nipple so big.
Sweet Jesus, this feels so good in my mouth. I could suck on this forever.
Bobbie read her thoughts and responded.
"Yes, my love, suck it...harder...yesss! It's been too long since I've had a hungry mouth on my tits. Please don't stop."
Sylvia closed her eyes, and the next moment, she felt mouths on both of her breasts.
Ohhh, fuck! How can this be happening?
She gazed down to see her son latched to one breast while Bobbie fed on the other. Both moaned together as they devoured her succulent tit flesh, hungry mouths working her sensitive nipples to new heights of ecstasy.
Then she felt fingers slipping into her wetness.
Ohhh, fuck!
Sylvia couldn't tell if it was her son or Bobbie doing the work, but she didn't care. God, it felt so good! With mouths sucking her tits and fingers slapping inside her wet pussy, not much time passed before the wave started to build.
She spoke aloud to the ceiling.
"God, I surrender! I don't care if it's incest, or if I'm a dyke! It feels so good and so right. I need sex! I need love!"
Sylvia released herself from all guilt and let it happen. Soon, her body convulsed in orgasm.
"Yes, god...yes!!! Ohhh!!!"
Sylvia shook uncontrollably, rendered helpless by pleasure surging through her body. As she crested another wave, Bobbie's velvet voice came from somewhere above.
"That's it, honey, come...come for me. Come for your boy. Let's take care of our needs. There's nothing wrong with that. We must all stick together."
Sylvia bucked herself awake, unintentionally tossing the pillow between her legs and most of the bedclothes on the floor. She lie there for what seemed an eternity, panting through her open mouth, eyes wide open, savoring images of the fresh, vivid dream and trying to will it back.
But no. She was now in the real world where rules abounded.
Fuck. Here I am again. How long can this go on?
A dense shaft of moonlight had snuck around the windowshade, piercing the darkness, filling the bedroom with a silver-blue glow as Sylvia put the bed back in order. The pale, yellow face of the electric Westclox showed two o'clock. She clamped her thighs around the pillow again and rubbed her face back and forth against the cotton blanket, imagining Bobbie's big, soft breasts.
Mmmm...those tits. Those beautiful tits.
Minutes passed as she tried desperately to get back to sleep, but couldn't help squirming against the dense pillow. She couldn't stop thinking about those sweet mounds!
Goddamn, girl, you must get back to sleep. What the fuck is wrong with you?
Her soaked pussy and erect clit tormented her, and she had to have relief. Grasping the pillow, she found the right position and rhythm and kept at it, her buttocks tensing repeatedly as she sought completion. In short order, she gritted her teeth as a quick jab of pleasure arced through her body. Not one of her best efforts.
Son of a bitch. That's about par for the course.
Within the hour, she reluctantly slipped back under.
Part Two -- Sylvia Gets Out of Her Rut
"Goddammit, Neil, I'm coming in!"
"Mom, I'm almost done! Hold on!"
"Nonsense! You said that five minutes ago!"
Sylvia had banged on the door enough. Not only was she angry at her son for hogging the shower yet again, the frustration of last night's dreams lingered on.
Fuck this shit.
She burst into the steamy bathroom and pulled the shower curtain aside, exposing her wet, naked son. Her mind clouded by emotion and need, she suddenly realized the result of her emotional impulse and ended up seeing more of her son than she intended.
Dammit, what have I done?
His fully erect cock bobbed up and down as he reacted to the surprise intrusion. Sylvia couldn't help but look.
God, my kid has some nice equipment, and so help me it's ready for action.
In a heartbeat, Neil whirled away from her, reaching back to grab a towel and wrap it around himself.
"Mom, no!" Neil wailed. "What are you doing?"
"Getting your ass out of the shower is what I'm doing," Sylvia said forcefully. Still, she couldn't help but savor the sight of her son's wet, nude body. "Now GO!"
Jesus Christ, he's completely naked! Such a handsome boy, and such a nice cock. Now I know what it looks like, for better or for worse. Dammit, now I gotta masturbate before going to work!
Neil retreated, whimpering in protest and embarrassed beyond belief, but his mother didn't care. Disrobing, she stepped into the shower, again water surrounding her feet. She looked down.
More of his come in the drain, I see.
She bent over, digging the fresh glop out of the drain screen, rubbing the sticky goo between her index and forefinger. A grin forced its way onto her face.
So beautiful to behold, my boy's come. It looks so clean, fresh and pure. Pearlescent. And nourishing, I'll bet.
Another impulse overtook her and she popped her son's ejaculate in her mouth. Sylvia's lips smacked as she licked her fingers. Her skin blazed hot with both arousal and shame at the action. She swirled the come around her mouth, like a fine Burgundy, tasting it and marveling at its consistency.
God, Sylvia, you filthy woman. But I love come in my mouth, even if I have to resort to tasting my own son's.
But there was no going back with her, no spitting it out. Never in her life had she spat out a man's seed and she wasn't about to start now. With the spray of the showerhead hitting her breasts, she pondered for a second longer.
Mmmm...a familiar taste. I want more, but isn't tasting my son's come incest by proxy?
With a gulp, she swallowed all of it with a naughty smile, knowing she had crossed a small barrier.
As it should be. He'll never know.
Sylvia managed to wash up and masturbate herself to completion, mouth agape, panting with release as she pressed her face against the tiles before flying out of the house to work. With a firm grip on the Falcon's steering wheel, she kept a close eye on traffic, the aftertaste of her son's come still in her mouth. She couldn't stop debating whether or not her simple act constituted an unnatural relation with her boy.
"Coffee, dear?" Bobbie asked, smirking at Sylvia's disheveled appearance.
"Yes, Bobbie." She pushed her hair back, shaking her head somewhat, as if to brush away the mental cobwebs. "Thank you a million times."
Bobbie smiled. "Anything for you, honey."
That comment made Sylvia take pause, but like the cobwebs, she also brushed it away.
Sylvia, stop letting your horniness misinterpret her words. She's just a good friend getting coffee for you.
She sat at her desk, sipping the steaming, hot liquid and gathering herself together, trying not to look over to Bobbie sitting at her own desk only ten feet away. This particular morning, Bobbie wore a tasteful silk blouse with a dark paisley pattern, one that may have been just a little too snug. Sylvia marveled at how the straining buttons managed to hold tight under the pressure of her impressive bounty.
I'd love to meet those tits in person someday and see if my dreams are accurate. Fuck, I don't care if it's right or wrong.
She looked up one more time to her friend and, like her son the night before, their eyes met. Bobbie smiled, briefly returning the gaze, then returned to her papers. Sylvia shook her head unconsciously, slightly embarrassed but happy and warm.
Jesus, what is going on here?
Hours oozed by sluggishly until the sun reached its peak, although inside the office, far from a window, the only indicator was a large electric clock on the wall. At lunchtime, Bobbie pulled Sylvia away from her desk.
"Let me show you something."
"What is it?"
"You'll see."
The two women took the elevator to the seventh floor of the nine-story office building. When the doors opened, they stepped out into the middle of a long, vacant hallway.
"Come with me," Bobbie said, taking Sylvia by the arm.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"Be patient, girlfriend."
They walked the length of the hallway, silent except for the sound of their shoes on the marble floor, passing opaque windows and closed doors on either side until they reached the end and a large window which looked down on the parking lot below. Turning, Bobbie put her arm around Sylvia's waist as they both looked back down the corridor.
"Since the typing school relocated to the Glen Cove Shopping Mall last year, this floor has been just about empty as can be," Bobbie smiled. "Nothing left but an old, deaf jeweler in his tiny office, probably napping most of the time." She pointed to the window on the far, opposite end. "L. Strunk Jeweler" was stenciled in archaic, black lettering on the time-worn glass.
"Okay." Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "So?"
"One word," Bobbie smiled, mischief in her eyes. "Privacy."
Sylvia thought she knew where her friend was going with this, but wasn't one-hundred-percent positive.
"Spell it out for me." Now it was Sylvia who had mischief in her eyes. She felt like a child sneaking around where she shouldn't be, and it made her slightly giddy.
"Honey, over the years, I've visited every ladies room in this building in order to get some privacy, if you know what I mean."
Sylvia nodded as her friend continued.
"Each bathroom has a certain amount of traffic. Some more, some less."
"Okay."
Bobbie led Sylvia to a large, ornate door with a sign above it marked "Ladies". At one time the sign had been internally lit, but either the bulb had blown out, or the power to it had been shut off.
"Come." Bobbie pushed the door open, pulling Sylvia close behind.
Beyond the door lay a tiny entryway which opened to the right, proceeding to an attractive, Art Deco style bathroom. Dark, wood-paneled stalls lined one side of the room while regal beige sinks topped with artful chrome fixtures lined the other. A ribbon of decorous, connected mirrors occupied the area above the sinks, which made the room look larger than it really was. The bathroom was obviously designed and built for a high-end clientele of decades past.
Sylvia sniffed, crinkling her nose from the mustiness in the air. By all appearances, the area hadn't been used recently.
"Wow, I didn't know this was here." Sylvia heard her voice echo from the tiles. "It's much nicer than the ladies' room on our floor."
Bobbie stood next to her and slightly behind, her hand returning to Sylvia's waist.
"I've known about this for a long time," Bobbie said in a hushed tone, as if in reverence of the quiet space. "I'm guessing this little hideaway has remained unaltered since they erected the building back in the twenties. It was used quite a lot when the typing school was active, but now..."
Bobbie stood so close, Sylvia could feel her friend's breath on her neck, making that warm feeling return. Aside from her son's hugs, human contact was something she didn't experience often.
I like when she puts her hand on my waist. So casual, but so satisfying.
Like most things built with pride, then neglected over the years, the bathroom exuded a faded glamor, like some beauty queen past her prime -- a few sags, lines and wrinkles, but still holding an appeal, an echo of what was. Attractive, colorful tilework covered the walls, and elaborate light fixtures hung from above. High, opaque windows covered with years of grime lined the far wall. Sylvia noticed a large brown water stain in a dark corner of the plastered ceiling.
"There's more."
Bobbie led her by the hand to another door in the far left-hand corner of the bathroom. Dressing Room was crudely stenciled in black over the old, flaking battleship-grey paint. She turned the rusted knob and pushed to reveal another chamber festooned with dusty cobwebs in the corners of the high ceiling.
"These haven't been used for god knows how long," Bobbie said. "At least not for dressing."
It was Sylvia who snorted this time as her friend gave her a sidelong glance. Full windows lined the right wall, their dirty panes allowing dull light to filter into the space. Sylvia couldn't help but sigh as Bobbie once again squeezed her waist.
God, this touching is getting me hot.
The room contained three compartments to the left, a pair of louvered half-doors fronting each one. Bobbie pushed one of the stiff, creaking doors aside to reveal a tiny dressing room with a miniscule table built into the wall, a stool tucked underneath. Hooks for hanging wardrobes protruded from either side.
"The whole floor was once a television station," Bobbie said. "Matter of fact, it was the city's first experimental station after the war. Some local guy with money saw the future and got a head start on it."
"How do you know all this?" Reciprocating Bobbie's gesture, Sylvia boldly placed her hand around her friend's hip, pulling their bodies together. There was no resistance.
If she can do it, then so can I. Damn, this feels good.
"The public library, girlfriend." Bobbie turned to her friend, smiling. Their noses almost touched. "Sometimes things get lonesome when I'm at home by myself. I need to get out and do something." Bobbie gazed deeply into Sylvia's eyes.
If I moved just one inch forward, our lips would meet.
But Sylvia refrained from acting on that particular impulse. Still, she felt a familiar throbbing in her pussy. Bobbie led her by the hand to another grimy door at the opposite end of the room.
"God, this is like a maze," Sylvia brushed a cobweb aside.
"And the piece de resistance." Bobbie pushed the door open with a flourish, reaching to the side to flip a pair of light switches. After several seconds of buzzing, several fluorescent tubes ensconced in more ornate fixtures popped and flickered to life, creating a gentle, yellow glow from above.
"Oh, my!" Sylvia whispered.
Before them was a decent-sized room, dotted with several ragged but comfortable-looking black-and-white Naugahyde reclining chairs and a sofa on the opposite wall. It was lined with mirrors, just like the bathroom. In the center was a long, solid wooden table on sturdy legs. A large, empty clay pot in the corner suggested there had once been some type of decorative foliage. For a moment, all Sylvia could hear was her heart beating and the hum of the lights. Her lips curled upward in a girlish grin.
This would be a great place to make out.
She squeezed her friend's hand. Bobbie squeezed back.
"This is what used to be the green room, where people would relax when not performing."
"Looks like it used to be pretty posh back in the day," Sylvia said, feeling her friend's breasts pressing against her side.
"I started to make use of it for my lunchtime diversion." Bobbie's eyes turned to look at the side of Sylvia's face.
"You mean?" Sylvia turned to meet her friend's gaze. Bobbie smiled and nodded.
"Yep."
Sweet Jesus! She's taken me to the place where she masturbates!
"Let me explain the point of this long, drawn-out tour," Bobbie said. "Here, sit down."
Sylvia obeyed, slipping into one of the easy chairs, looking up at her friend.
"This door..." Bobbie pointed to a large, wooden door on the opposite side of the room, "...is locked. On the other side is the main hallway." She looked at Sylvia, her hands on her hips. "Never in all of my time here, since the Eisenhower administration, have I seen this door opened. As a matter of fact, I don't know if anyone has the key to it."
Bobbie slid into another easy chair several feet from Sylvia, slightly facing her.
"This is the result of years of study," Bobbie said facetiously, raising an eyebrow. She held her index finger in the air. "When anyone enters the bathroom, and that's almost never these days, I feel the change in air pressure. It's subtle, but noticeable. If it's quiet enough, you can actually hear the air whistle underneath the dressing room door."
"You've spent a lot of time up here." Sylvia noticed one of the buttons on her friend's blouse had popped open. She wondered if it was intentional.
"Yes, honey, I have." Bobbie smiled, her eyes gleaming. "Anyway, once someone enters the bathroom, they have to make it through the dressing room to get into here."
Sylvia kept pace with Bobbie's reasoning and completed her friend's line of thought.
"So you would have enough time to get decent before someone came in here."
"Exactly!" Bobbie nodded, touching her nose.
"Oh, my!" Sylvia repeated herself, an impish grin on her face. Unconsciously, she started rubbing her hands up and down the insides of her thighs.
"Oh, my, indeed! I can take care of business and not worry about getting caught."
"Oh, Jesus," Sylvia giggled. "It's so naughty, but so perfect!"
"Isn't it?" Bobbie's gaze lingered on her friend's face.
Heat rose in Sylvia's cheeks and she realized her hands were up under her skirt, busy rubbing the insides of her pantyhose-encased thighs. All of the touching and talk of masturbation had made Sylvia horny as hell and feeling bold.
"Well, what do we do now?" She asked.
There was a moment of silence as the women eyed each another. It dawned on Bobbie that things had accelerated faster than expected and, in an attempt to defuse the situation, she started backpedaling.
"Oh, Sylvia, honey, I didn't mean we had to..."
"Why not?" Sylvia interrupted, realizing the tables had turned, at least for a moment, and she was leading the situation. "You've gone to all the trouble to show me this little hideaway."
"Oh, my God." Bobbie shuddered, eyes pleading.
Sylvia wondered if the look meant her friend was trying to find a way out, or if she wanted them to masturbate together all along. This moment would either push their relationship to the next level, or break it apart. Bobbie finally relented, her voice quivering.
"I'm game," she squeaked.
With those words, Sylvia spread her legs on the comfortable chair, her hands drawing up her thighs to cup her pussy. "We can stop anytime you want," she said, popping open a few buttons on her blouse. Her friend did the same.
"I'm not backing down, sweetheart." Bobbie's voice steadied itself as her confidence started to return. She pulled her top open to reveal a magical valley of flesh.
Breathing audibly by now, both women felt the silent, stale air pressing in on them. They both slipped one hand into their panties while the other hand disappeared underneath their blouses. Within moments, they were lost in the mutual bliss of self-pleasure, mouths agape, as they tried not to look at each other.
Sylvia closed her eyes and, tugging on her sensitive nipple, blurred her fingers against her erect clit. She filled her head with images, her son in the shower, his cute butt and bobbing cock, the prince from her romance novel, then at last Bobbie. She envisioned Bobbie's bra falling loose and those immense breasts tumbling out to be caressed and suckled.
Oh, God, I'd love to suck those tits all day long.
With Bobbie's panting in the background, Sylvia slipped deeper and deeper into her fantasy world. The sensation in her pussy increased as she worked her way toward orgasm.
Oh, Bobbie, honey, let me suck those tits. Let me suck them, then suck mine! Oh, please!
Sylvia sank deeper and deeper into erotic bliss. Her lips started moving, random whispers falling out. She moved closer to the edge, her finger now slipping deep inside her wetness. Suddenly, coherent words popped out of her mouth.
"Oh, God! Those big, sweet tits!" She yelped. Her words echoed from the walls.
The sound of her own voice jolted her out of her reverie. Sylvia opened her eyes to see Bobbie gazing at her. She didn't stop masturbating. She wasn't going to let that slip destroy the pleasure she was giving herself.
Also teetering on the edge, Bobbie let out a big, beautiful smile. She tugged at her bra, and the next moment, her big tit flopped out for Sylvia to behold.
She gazed at Bobbie's luscious breast, her mouth agape, her pussy about to burst. It was exactly as she envisioned, with its big, dark areola and unspeakably huge, pointed nipple.
"Uh huh! Uh huh!" Sylvia managed to gasp, nodding her head, eyes wide.
The next moment, Bobbie's face contorted, her body jerking as she climaxed. Still, she never broke her gaze from Sylvia's eyes.
The next moment, Sylvia followed suit, her body spasming as both women fought to keep from crying out. Bobbie nodded her head, the smile returning to her face as both women massaged out wave after wave of pleasure.
"Goddamnit, honey!" Bobbie rasped. "That's what I'm talking about."
All Sylvia could do is let out a loud sigh, savoring the elation of sweet release.
Jesus fucking Christ, that was incredible, but what have we done?
For several minutes, their hands remained on their pussies, fingers dipping into their slick, wet vaginas, as they luxuriated in sweet afterglow. It was Sylvia who withdrew her hand first. Boldly, she licked her juices from her fingers, keeping watch on Bobbie as her friend followed suit.
Goddamn, this is so kinky. But I want to do it again and again. So very sweet and sexy.
After a moment, Bobbie reluctantly broke the spell.
"I think lunchtime is over, honey," she smiled with sadness in her eyes.
"Oh, no."
Sylvia started getting to her feet, but stumbled. Bobbie was there to catch her.
"Steady, girl." Bobbie couldn't help but press her mounds against her friend's shoulder as she helped Sylvia gain balance. Neither one of them had buttoned their blouses yet and Bobbie's breast was still exposed.
Oh, God, what is wrong with me? I can't stand on my own! Bobbie feels so good, so warm and soft. And those tits!
Fighting to gain her balance, and to overcome her desire, and failing, Sylvia pressed her face into Bobbie's breasts, quickly finding a nipple.
Goddammit, I can't help myself! This is so good, I can't let it slip away!
Bobbie didn't resist as her friend began sucking, her lips curled back, whimpering with need.
"Ohhh..." She exhaled, pressing her pillowy breast against Sylvia's face, "GodDAMN...YES!"
Bobbie held her friend steady as she nursed, nuzzling the top of her head, kissing it.
Fuck, this is insane, but it feels so good. I haven't had a hungry mouth on my tits in years. But we have to get back to the office!
With great reluctance, Bobbie whispered.
"Honey, pull yourself together." She kissed Sylvia's hair again, hating the words that fell from her mouth. "As much as I love this, we must get back."
Sylvia, nodding, released her friend's breast, now glistening with saliva. She couldn't look up, feeling deeply ashamed for losing control. She couldn't look into Bobbie's eyes.
"Oh, my god, Bobbie." Her voice quivered with embarrassment. "What have I done?"
Bobbie took Sylvia's chin and, lifting her face to meet her gaze, kissed her on the mouth. Sylvia jumped slightly, unsure of how to respond, but let Bobbie kiss her just the same.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of, honey." Bobbie tucked her breast away, straightening her blouse and fastening the buttons. Then she did the same for her friend. "We can talk later, but..." She gripped Sylvia's hand and pulled her out of their secret lair, back through the dusty dressing room and murky bathroom, back into the filtered sunlight of the main hallway.
The elevator hummed in the background during their short ride down. Both of them gazed vacantly at the patinaed Art Deco metalwork lining the ceiling of the elevator car, silent. Shortly before the doors opened, Bobbie spoke.
"It's Friday, and I think we need to have a drink after work."
Sylvia nodded, still unable to look her friend in the eyes.
"Because it's Friday, yes," she parroted Bobbie's words, her mind churning with other thoughts.
My God, am I now a lesbian? A dyke?
Sylvia cleared her throat self-consciously, focusing her thoughts more.
Bobbie's right, girl. Pull yourself together.
"We can go to that quiet bar across the street." She finally looked into Bobbie's eyes. "Nothing wrong with two friends having a drink after work."
Bobbie returned her nervous friend's gaze and smiled.
"Nothing wrong with that at all, my love."
Sylvia couldn't help but smile and snicker, placing her hand on her mouth.
The remainder of the work day, although lasting only a few hours in real time, lingered on for several weeks in both women's minds. As five o'clock neared, people started putting things away and locking up for the weekend, rising from their desks and shuffling out the door. Sylvia looked toward Bobbie's desk. Bobbie was already looking back at her friend as she rose from her chair, placing the plastic dust cover over her IBM Selectric and switching off the fluorescent desk lamp.
They stood together in the packed elevator, side by side, looking at nothing in particular as the car made its way down, but feeling the nearness and heat of each other's bodies. Bobbie surreptitiously interlaced her fingers with Sylvia's, squeezing her hand. Sylvia squeezed back until the elevator door opened.
A light rain had started to fall, making everything glisten wetly as the women scurried to their destination.
Il Mandolino had existed on the corner of Green and Lampson since the First World War. Through its many incarnations over the years, it remained a dark and smoky chamber divided into two halves -- a bar area with enough light to facilitate drinking and conversation, and the opposite wall, lined with plush leather booths lit only by a single candle in a red, opaque glass holder, for patrons desiring privacy. The two women had to focus on the bar side until their eyes became accustomed to the dim surroundings. Sylvia fished around in her purse.
"Oh, shit." She furrowed her brow, turning to Bobbie. "Do you have a dime for the pay phone? I should call Neil and let him know I'll be a little late."
Bobbie reached into her coin purse and produced a silver dime.
"Thanks." Sylvia disappeared into the rear area, where a wooden phone booth hid in a dark corner. A small light inside the booth illuminated her face as Bobbie watched her feed the dime into the slot, dial a number, then speak.
A stout but solid-looking bartender with thinning hair leaned over the counter, distracting Bobbie.
"What'll you ladies have?"
"I'll have an Old Fashioned," Bobbie said, noticing his pencil-thin moustache and dark eyes. She glanced back to her friend in the phone booth. "And she'll have a dry white wine." "Coming right up," the bartender smiled. Bobbie returned the smile, noticing his rolled-up sleeves, and wondered for a moment what it would feel like to be held in his burly arms. He reminded her of a younger, handsomer Broderick Crawford.
Sylvia returned, eyes gleaming. Her nervousness had dissipated for the moment.
"Okay, I'm free for awhile."
"Good." Bobbie motioned to the bartender, pointing to a booth in the back corner. He nodded. She placed her hand around Sylvia's waist as they made their way into the darkness.
"Do you think this is secluded enough?" Sylvia giggled, unsure of what to say as the bartender placed their drinks on the round table. Bobbie didn't answer, but pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. She extracted one and placed it between her lips.
"Need a light?" He asked.
She nodded, watching the bartender's arms as he reached into his apron pocket to produce an ornate matchbox. He pulled out a long match and struck it on the side of the box. A burst of light illuminated Bobbie's face as the sulfur tip crackled to life. She drew on the cigarette, making the tip sizzle a bright, yellowish red. Sylvia watched as she blew a cloud of smoke into the air.
"Anything else, ladies?" He purred, looking directly at Bobbie.
"Uh...no, thank you!" Bobbie, transfixed by his gaze, managed to respond. She noted that he chose to deliver the drinks himself instead of passing them along to the girl waiting on the other tables.
"See what I mean?" Sylvia whispered as he walked away. "Men want you!
"Oh, please." Bobbie felt her cheeks flush, grateful for the dim light. She took another drag on the cigarette. "He's just doing his job." Still, she glanced over to the bar and saw that he was looking back. Quickly, she averted her gaze.
God, he could manhandle me any damn time.
Sylvia's hand caressing her arm returned Bobbie's thoughts to the moment. She looked at her friend's face in the flickering candlelight. What would she say next?
Oh, what the hell. Go for it!
"How about you drop by my place for a late lunch tomorrow?" Bobbie said, feeling her chest flutter as she forced out the words. She flicked her cigarette in the boomerang-shaped Bakelite ashtray in front of her. "We have a lot to talk about."
"Oh, my!" Sylvia's pearlescent teeth glinted as her lips curled up in a grin. She paused for a moment, stroking the stem of her wineglass. "Why, of course! That would be wonderful!"
Jesus, what mischief we could get into all by ourselves and with some privacy. Shit, I can't help but think about it. It might turn out to be nothing, but still...
"You're not obligated to," Bobbie backtracked a bit, wondering if she had been too forward.
Sylvia's eyes reflected the wavering light.
"I know that, yes, but you're right. We have a lot to talk about."
Talk and maybe who knows what else?
Sylvia's pupils had dilated, her face relaxing since those uncertain moments in the green room. Bobbie wanted to kiss her right there and then, but instead took a long sip from her drink. Her friend did the same, downing half her glass of wine.
"That's good," Bobbie nodded, feeling the alcohol's effect, unsure of how to continue the conversation. She hadn't been in this position for years, especially with a woman. She felt like she was on a romantic date, traveling back through the years, before her marriage, half-expecting to hear big band music in the background, gazing into the eyes of a young lover.
She took a hungry drag on her cigarette.
"I'll make some salmon croquettes with dill sauce?" She found her hand resting on Sylvia's thigh. "A green salad, too, with croutons?"
"Mmmm, yes on both counts!" Sylvia's voice and gaze reflected the passion smoldering in both of them. "What shall I bring?"
"Nothing but yourself." Bobbie fought for control. Her pussy throbbed as she marveled at the softness of her friend's thigh. "I have a fully stocked bar, and sodas, if that's more to your liking."
"Hmmm, we'll see." Sylvia raised an eyebrow, placing her hand on top of Bobbie's, pressing it down.
They laughed, gazing into each other's eyes, both feeling giddy and naughty as they crossed into unknown territory. The next moment, Sylvia glanced over her friend's shoulder. Her brow furrowed.
"What is it?" Bobbie asked. Sylvia looked at her friend's face.
"Don't react, but a couple of guys are checking us out."
"Oh, really?" Bobbie didn't move her head.
"Believe me, I don't think we want these two." She downed the remainder of her wine. "Oh, shit."
"What, are they coming this way?"
"Of course." There was no mistaking the annoyance in Sylvia's voice.
"It can't be that bad," Bobbie whispered, then turned to gaze at the unsavory duo standing immediately behind her.
"Oh, yes it is!" Bobbie added, her eyes widening in surprise and thinly-veiled disgust.
Although clad in business suits and ties, it took Bobbie and Sylvia less than two seconds to size up the men, and they were not impressed. One was fat and balding, with a rumpled suit and reddened cheeks. The other looked like a scarecrow, gaunt with eyes bulging. Fatso sported the expression of a stud on the prowl, while Scarecrow merely stared at them with his headlight eyes.
"Hellooo, ladies!" Fatso crooned, his head nodding with approval as he made a show of inspecting them. Scarecrow remained silent.
"Hello." Bobbie managed to push the word out of her mouth without grimacing. Sylvia merely nodded once, her brow still furrowed.
"I see you two are alone," Fatso grinned with uneven teeth. Sylvia mentally completed his next sentence.
May we join you?
"May we join you?" He echoed a second later.
Bobbie was speechless. In spite of her need for human companionship, there was no way she'd stoop so low. She wondered if the overpowering stench of Aqua Velva and stale cigarette smoke came from the fat one or the beanpole, who still hadn't said a word.
Sweet Jesus, thank you for reminding me why I haven't been dating!
Sylvia piped up.
"Oh, we're sorry," she feigned regret, but not too much. "We're just having a chat about work. You know, really confidential stuff." She almost added that they worked for a legal firm, but caught herself, not wanting to give them any leads.
Fatso wasn't having any of that.
"Oh, come on." His oily face reflected the candlelight, making him look even more repugnant. "You can talk about that later. Maybe we can get acquainted."
He started to grab a chair, but Bobbie stopped him.
"No, this is serious business we're discussing," she puffed on her smoke, hand shaking somewhat. "I'm afraid we don't have time for fun."
Fatso's face registered the rejection, the sleazy glint leaving his eyes. Scarecrow still didn't utter a word, but kept staring at them, his eyes about to pop out of his skull. The mood quickly went south.
"Well, pardon us!" Fatso said in an overstated manner. He might have been Jackie Gleason's ne'er-do-well brother, what with his emoting. "I guess we're..."
"Hey!" Bobbie blurted out, cutting him off. "You don't get it, huh?" With that, she crushed out her cigarette angrily, sparks flying all around the table. She fixed her eyes on him, voice quivering with rage. "We're lesbians, okay? Homosexuals! Dykes!"
THAT will get rid of these bastards!
Now it was Sylvia's eyes that bugged out as she choked on her saliva. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Now fuck off!" Bobbie's words raised a few faces in the distance, barely visible in the low light.
Suddenly, the bartender loomed behind the two would-be suitors.
"Hey," he said and, with a stern glare, made a single sweep of his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the men should leave the premises. "No trouble here. Hit the road!"
"Okay, okay!" Fatso backed off, putting his hands up in surrender. He looked at the women, then back at the bartender. "We don't want anything to do with these..." He paused a second to search for his next words. "...muff divers anyway!"
The bartender stepped between them and the women, his face only inches from Fatso's. Clearly intimidated, Fatso backed up, sweat beading on his shiny brow, but managed to squeeze off one more shot.
"What kind of place lets dykes inside?" He was speaking more to the room, making a show of things, than the bartender in front of him. "What if the police knew about this? This is an outrage!"
Suddenly, the pile of slime developed a twisted sense of morality. The bartender quivered, hands by his side, clenching his fists. In spite of her anger, Bobbie drank in the sight of his flexing muscles.
Oh, honey, just mop up the floor with this jerk and then Ra*e me again and again!
"Five seconds, big boy." The bartender gave his final warning.
Fatso turned and scuttled away, followed closely by the silent Scarecrow, as if they were attached by a short rope. A smattering of light applause sounded in the room.
Once they had exited, the bartender turned back toward Bobbie and Sylvia. Bobbie immediately began talking a mile a minute.
"I didn't mean what I said!" She was beside herself, trying to explain the outburst. "We're not dykes! We were just trying..."
"Hey, it's okay." The bartender placed a strong hand on her shoulder. The pressure felt good. Bobbie fell into silence. "You don't have to explain anything to me, honey."
Sylvia watched as her friend's mouth fell open, still silent. She also realized Bobbie's trembling hand, cold and sweaty, was about to crush hers.
"It's the Age of Aquarius and I don't judge people that way."
"But really..." Bobbie couldn't help but get lost in his eyes, letting his silky voice wash over her. Her voice relaxed. "We're not."
The next moment, Bobbie found her hand grasping his forearm, something that didn't go unnoticed by him.
"Dykes, indeed." He raised an eyebrow and straightened, gently removing Bobbie's hand from his arm and squeezing it. "You two have another round on me."
As they nursed their second round of drinks, recovering from the bad experience, Bobbie mumbled, mostly to herself.
"Why did I think we could have a decent conversation at a bar?"
