Author’s note: this piece was suggested to me as a challenge as a straight woman to open my mind, any mistakes in it are completely my own. Thank You, Alan, for the idea. I would very much like to thank Hymir and angellove for their help with editing. I would also like to thank barby, Hymir and realmacdaddy for their help with the construction itself.

“So? Where’s Mr. Train schedule man?” Sue asked.

“Probably still counting his receipts or tying his shoelaces,” I responded.

Sue chuckled, “So he’s history then?”

“Yep,” I rolled my eyes. “What was I thinking?”

“Honey, you weren’t thinking, or wasn’t that the point?”

“Well he did have nice legs . . . “

Sue put her drink down to keep from sputtering. She joined me laughing over that one. I smiled to myself. He did have nice legs. Our waiter was long in coming with lunch so our gossip continued.

“So this means you are free Saturday night?” she asked.

“Looks it,” I said. “Unless you think our waiter is free . . . ”

Sue shook her head wryly. As if on cue the fourteen-year-old refugee from the mall dropped off our waters as he wandered off in what I could only hope was in search of our food.

“Saturday night, eight, and . . . ,” she screwed me with her no nonsense look until she had my complete attention, “No jeans and those T-shirts that say, ‘I would rather have my microscope’.”

Grumbling, “Sure, whatever.” I liked my T-shirt thank you very much. “And,” I sighed. “Yes I’ll bring the fudge,” I offered before she could ask.

Rattling glasses was the only warning I had before Sue emitted an ear piercing squeal, and hugging me, “You’re the best.”

The meal was rather lackluster. Kind of like our waiter. “Isn’t it against the law to hire those who still belong in diapers,” I wondered.

Saturday came quickly, as it had been one of those crazy-hectic six day weeks that always seemed to happen right before Christmas. On my drive home, I checked the voice mails on my mobile that had collected during the day. A cheery voice threatened, “Eight o’clock, and oh don’t be late. I still remember why your dad’s twenty-year-old scotch went missing. See ye.” Click.

I had forgotten about the party. I groaned. I had not asked Sue just what kind of party she had planned. I groaned again. Sue liked to push the envelope with her parties. One year she actually staged a robbery. Right in the middle of prime rib, several men broke in with guns. After several tense moments and the sound of Velcro, they began to striptease. Hmm, good party, I remembered.

Thankfully the ride home was short, unusual for a Saturday. It was a bit of a rush job but I got the fudge going and slipped into the shower while it set. Thankfully my on-going chocolate addiction meant I always had ingredients for fudge in the house. Stepping out of the shower I browsed through my closet. Sue’s digs about my wardrobe hit a little close to home. Feeling devilish, I grinned to my self as I dragged out my slacks. Sleek and black, they clung to my hips like leather, riding so low that my tattoo was visible. Deciding to mess with Sue’s head a bit, (sometime I think she believed that my jeans and lab coat were fused to my skin), I grabbed some black gauze, thick but still transparent, I had left over from a previous sewing project. With a quick hem and the addition of a couple of silk ties, I had a simple top. I donned a lacy black bra, just barely visible through the screen and I was dressed to kill.

I hated to leave my running shoes behind, as they were comfortable. I sighed as it looked like tonight I would miss my evening run. It was time to be bold, so I dragged my black heels out of the back of the closet. I slipped on the strappy, black velvet, two inch heels and made for the kitchen.

The blinking on the clock showed I was running late, so without even bothering to cut the fudge I grabbed the pan and my keys and headed out the door. The drive was just long enough to make my palms clammy as I realized, “Yep, my bra really was visible through my shirt. Gulp. Well Sue had something in her closet I am sure, I could just nip in and grab.”

I was late. The noise from her house was audible even over the din of my Nine Inch Nails CD. A quick shake of my head to resettle my hair and in the door I walked. Her kitchen was empty. Quickly, I grabbed a knife and borrowed one of her plates arranging the fudge in bite size pieces. I grabbed a piece of fudge and started my dash for the back stairs to Sue’s bedroom.

The kitchen door slammed before I finished my getaway. In walked Sue and another woman, whom I thought perhaps vaguely I had met before. Chattering as she usually does, Sue directed the other woman, “Ok let me grab the punch. Can you grab the serving spoon and oh more napkins out of the closet right next…?” Sue’s voice trailed off as she finally spied me.

“Wow,” she whistled, “hot damn!” She surveyed me like meat on a platter. I think I almost punched her right then and there. Noticing the fudge in Eskort Kız my hand, she barked, “Hey save some of the fudge for the rest of us.”

“Sue, do you mind if . . . “

“No,” she interrupted. “You are not raiding my closet. Get out there, girl.”

Groaning, I appealed to the other woman, “She’s crazy, you know.”

Sue laughed. The woman smiled confidently, “Grab the napkins, will you, and the fudge while I help Sue find her spoon.”

Sue interrupted the woman telling her, “Better grab that fudge before she takes it in there, you know this crowd.’

A soft chuckle and the woman smiled. She grabbed a piece of fudge, her long fingers gracefully lifting one off the plate when I offered it to her. With my escape now firmly cut off, I gritted my teeth and firmly resolved to have a drink as soon as possible. Liquid courage would have to do when there was none other to be had. So sliding out Sue’s kitchen door, a smile plastered on my face and the plate of fudge blandished high, I entered the living room.

In the corner was a lovely buffet table already filled with many dessert options. Looking for an open spot, I moved over to place the plate down. “Hmm, now where was the bar?” Ahh, there it was right behind the gentleman with the pipe in his pocket. Smiling, I asked him, “What’s looking good tonight?”

He mentioned the scotch was good. Not even bothering with the water, I poured some straight on the rocks and took a swallow. After the first burning bite, I settled down and sipped it like any sane person. I took a moment to survey the room. A few faces I recognized, but most were new to me. Not unusual considering Sue was one of those people whom an hour delay on the bus meant she had twelve new friends and a date for Thursday night. A slight shifting to my left and a tall gentleman appeared at my side.

He put a hand on my shoulder and said, “Hey little lady. Who might you be?”

“John,” a voice chastised, “Give her some space before you find yourself kneed to the floor.”

“Ahh Lara, do you always have to claim the pretty ones for yourself?” he chuckled.

Ignoring him, Lara turned to me. “Never mind him. John’s a big flirt,” she smiled.

“I’m Lara. I work with Sue on occasion when she books travel stuff for my firm. This here is John.”

Extending his hand he said, “A pleasure to meet you.”

I grasped his hand, shook it and replied, “Likewise.”

“Would you like to meet some of the other guests?” Lara asked. “Now,” she continued as she turned and starting pointing out guests, “as you know Rachel here just accepted Tony’s collar last week. Sue was a dream to host their party here . . . “

The introductions took a while, but Lara stayed with me, and we slowly got to know one another. Apparently Sue had asked her to show me around a bit, knowing that with my vanilla background and a tendency to be shy I might be a little uncomfortable with this open and slightly raucous group.

Lara filled me on some more details about what most at the party referred to as the, “lifestyle.” Most of it was familiar to me as one can’t hang out long with Sue without being open minded. I quickly found myself comfortable and learned new tricks to do with my silk ties at home and some more fantasies for my nights. Lara left me as I talked with Rachel and learned about her lovely new Rottweiler puppy, her first date with Tony and about what the lifestyle meant to her. When I left Rachel, I had her phone number and plans for a movie in couple weeks.

I mingled at the party, enjoying myself. I would catch occasional whiffs of Lara’s perfume as she passed by or the sound of musical laughter ringing in the room. Magically, I kept finding my glass refilled as the night went on. I still don’t remember how that happened. The gentleman at the table, Lane as I later learned his name was right, it was good scotch. Puppy stories changed to house stories to the occasional sex stories.

It was after midnight when I walked over to the buffet table hoping to get another bite of fudge, but the plate was empty, as were most of the plates on the table. A whiff of that perfume caught my nose again. I turned and there was Lara, smiling. I still am not sure how she did it, but when she opened her hand there were two pieces of my fudge. Gently she lifted a piece and brought it to my mouth. She laid it smoothly on my tongue, and I got a taste of her fingers, warm and lightly salty.

Blushing I said, “Thank you,” mumbling a bit as the chocolate melted in my mouth. She chuckled at my reaction and slipped the other piece into her own mouth.

“See didn’t I tell you, Lara, the fudge would be all gone? Hmm?” mumbled Sue looking over the dessert table “Looks like everything took a hit tonight. Even if I do say so myself, I think Rachel and Tony’s party went well.”

“It was a lovely evening,” Lara responded.

Two warms hands wrapped around my shoulders as Sue gave me hug. “Glad you came knucklehead.” She smiled at me, and punched my arm a bit.

I staggered. “Yep, one too many Scotches for me tonight,” I thought.

“Sue, you mind if borrow a bed?” I asked. “I think perhaps I have drunk too much to drive.”

Sue chuckled, “So that’s why my Macallan’s is all gone? Let me think a moment. John and Lily have the rose room and Michelle and . . . “

Before Sue could finish rattling off the next spate of names that I would never remember, Lara offered, “How about I drive you home?”

As it appeared, Sue had a houseful. I said, “Yes,” to Lara.

Reaching over and giving me another hug Sue said, “Call me tomorrow to come get your car, ‘k?”

“Thanks Sue.”

She winked at me, “So better than counting receipts?”

“Yes, even without the legs.”

“Legs?” chuckled Lara, “I think I better get you home before this crowd hears that.”

Laughing, Sue said, “See you two later.”

I don’t remember much of the drive home as I was pretty tired. Lara talked a bit of what she does as an attorney and of how she and Rachel met. I learned that Lara was a Domme and was a very close friend of Rachel’s. It was nice just listening to Lara’s voice, as a bit of Scottish accent occasionally peeped through when she smiled. I fell asleep listening to her. A soft touch on my shoulder woke me when we had reached my house. Lara surprised me by getting out of the car and opening the door for me. I was grateful that she did so, as with the ice on the ground, it was treacherous. It had snowed during the party and I was unaccustomed to walking in heels.

As we reached my door, she waited with me as I fumbled through my keys to find the right one to unlock it. As I removed my key from the door, I dropped the set. Lara bent over and picked them up for me. As she rose up to hand me my keys she was just inches away from my face. I couldn’t help but notice the trace of glitter that laced her eyelashes, and seemed to add extra sparkle to her green eyes. She brushed a hand against my cheek and at the softness I leaned forward. She took the invitation in my eyes and tenderly kissed me, a whisper of the fudge still tracing her lips as I felt her tongue lightly playing against mine. She broke the kiss with a soft smile.

“You are so sweet. Sleep well.” She placed my keys in my hand and walked away. I closed the door behind me and went to sleep. It wasn’t till morning that I would deal with the complications of my first kiss with Lara and a blistering headache. Just how many glasses of scotch did I have?

Some friends should be shot on sight. Sue showed up at my door and let herself in at 7:30 the following morning, belting out, “Let It Snow,” at the top of her lungs. I think I might have thrown my shoe at her. I’m not sure as I

“Come on sleepy-head,” she yelled. “We’re late, hurry it up!”

I rushed through my morning shower, grumbling the whole time. I was definitely going to shoot Sue as soon as I could find my caffeine . . . As if on cue Sue handed me my cup of tea as I stumbled into the kitchen, my hair still wet from my shower. She took one look at my jeans and shook her head.

“Well,” she said, “you will blend in.”

“Blend in?”

“Come on! We’re late.”

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” I said grabbing my hairbrush and I finished getting ready while Sue drove. Once my hair was brushed and braided and I was a bit settled in, I turned and asked Sue, “Now, why the rush? You do realize it’s not even eight on a Sunday morning?”

Sue chuckled as she pulled into the drive of a blue Colonial and parked. A deafening slew of barking ensued. Sure enough when Sue and I reached the door two Scottish Deerhounds were there to greet us, along with a whiff of perfume I couldn’t help but recognize. It was a good thing Sue was busy apologizing for us being late, as my face was redder than Rudolph’s nose.

Lara stepped out, wearing one of those three piece suits that looked like Tiffany’s. The soft rose of her camisole was like the dusky softness of her lips. The morning sun burnished her silken hair with warmth. Her gaze was sharp and clear, the laughter peeking out of her sparkling emerald eyes. “Glad you guys could come, after my clients canceled this morning. I couldn’t dream of letting these tickets go to waste. Game’s at one, so it’s going to be a bit of a tight go to get there.”

At my confused look, Lara’s shoulders shrugged a moment, “You do like football, right?” she asked plaintively.

My jaw dropped again. This was getting to be a bad habit. Sue broke out laughing, and with her thumb pointing at me exclaimed, “This one? Like football? Ugh. Oh please, you’re killing me. You have any idea how many Sundays I have spent listening to her moan and groan her way through every game?”

Punching my arm, Sue admonished, “Close your mouth Dearie and let’s not be late!!”

Lara took her keys out and unlocked the Accord, opening Sue’s and my doors before opening her own. Not quite sure where to sit, I stood in the drive a bit waiting. Lara’s skirt caught a little on the leather as she slid into the driver’s seat, pulling tight against her hip. Her muscles tensed as she stretched her legs to the pedals her calves tightening and sculpting like a dancer’s leg. I smiled when I saw that even through her hose, the light dusting of the occasional freckle showed through.

Sue called from the back seat, “Well aren’t you going to get in Dufus? What’s wrong with you today?” Blinking back to reality and blushing beat red, I sank into the front passenger seat.

It was a long drive. The conversation flowed smoothly despite my occasional embarrassment as I remembered the feel of Lara’s lips across mine last night. “Did I really do that?” Lara drove like a speed commando, taking charge of the road in an unflappable calm that it was easy to forget we were driving in Massachusetts and on our way to Foxboro. Our drive was interrupted by a couple of quick calls on Lara’s mobile. Though I tried not to eavesdrop, the soft Scottish lilt to her voice made me smile.

The throng was tight and the excitement high after last week’s win over the Chicago Bears. As we made our way to our seats, Lara found our row and gestured for us to sit down. Her hand rested briefly on my elbow as she waited for Sue to find her seat. The opening drive by the Patriots was a disappointment, another failure to convert a 3rd down. The second drive down the field ended in a Stephen Gotskowski field goal and the Patriots were up by three. After that it was downhill despite being ahead 13-10 at the half. A sack, a fumble, several penalties and the Detroit hLions took the lead. The game was getting tight. I was off my seat when Vrable picked the ball; so I think was half our row. Lara was knocked into me, and I couldn’t help the shivers that ran through my body when I felt her soft chest pressed against my shoulder.

I perhaps stayed a little longer next to her than necessary as she looked down at me and smiled a bit, “Nice move there, don’t you think?”

I nodded, “Let’s hope they do something with it this time.”

A turnover by Watson just a few minutes later had me gritting my teeth, but a loose ball grabbed by Mike Wright after that and the Patriots were back in business. Lara gave my thigh a tight squeeze after that one. The game had turned into a nail-biter. After every play I found myself nodding to Lara, our faces mimicking each other in pain or pleasure in reflection of the moves on the field.

Even the sight of all those wonderfully masculine butts in spandex couldn’t distract me from the soft smell of Lara’s perfume, or the curve of her calf. As the ball passed into the end zone . . . Touchdown Patriots! I gave Lara a hug. Her full lips inches from mine and I hesitated to let go before turning to give Sue a hug too as the Patriots were now ahead in the final seconds of the game. In that brief moment, though I had never before considered a relationship with a woman, I knew I wanted Lara.

The Patriots left the field in victory; 28-21. Lara directed us through the busy crowd and with little confusion we found ourselves back at the car. Traffic was slow leaving the game, but with the after game show on the radio, conversation was never dull. Sue seemed to disagree and had fallen asleep before we even made it to route 128 north.

Maybe because it was dark or perhaps it was the adrenaline still left over from the game, but as we crossed the bridge heading into Maine, I found the courage to ask, “Would you like to go out sometime?”

Lara reached over and put her hand on my thigh. “Pick you up Wednesday, six o’clock?”

In the darkness I nodded my assent.

“Wear something nice. A friend of mine is doing a seminar.” She left her hand on my thigh for the rest of the drive. Her delicate fingers were luminescent against my jeans.

From the seminar, to darts at the pub, to a pick up game of street hockey my December was magical. Her kisses seared my toes, her lively debates kept me hopping and my nights were filled with dreams of her. Naughty dreams plagued my days and most especially those hours at dawn when I couldn’t sleep, as I waited those long hours till I could see her smile again.

The planned movie with Rachel turned into a matinee foursome. We went to see Eragon, its opening weekend, two weeks before Christmas, as Tony was a fan of Paulolini. Dinner afterwards was a small Italian style bistro. As we left the bistro with Rachel and Tony the argument over the Patriots last weekend’s loss to the Miami Dolphins was getting more heated.

Tony gloated in his Dolphins jacket. “Four sacks and two fumbles the Patriots so don’t have a chance at Superbowl this year.”

Rachel just rolled her eyes at Lara. “Tony, enough! I don’t want to hear one more time about the shut out, or that it’s the first time since 1972!”

Rachel put her hand on Tony’s arm. He stopped and looked her. The heat from the look I think might have melted the sidewalk. With a tip of his hat to Lara and me, Tony said, “See you ladies later. I think I have plans with my girl tonight.” With a saucy wink and a squeeze to Rachel’s ass the two of them walked laughing to their car.

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