Out and Proud

by Lisa Young

  However, Linda visibly shrivelled as she caught the eye of Ann who was mouthing silently at her. “Sixteen calls waiting!” She pointedly directed Linda’s attention to the mounting tower of lights blinking frantically on the wall.

  Alicia, who was sitting opposite Lottie gave her a concerned look. “Lottie, you do know that woman wouldn’t know tasteful if she had an unlimited credit facility at Laura Ashley, don’t you?”

  Lottie sighed with resignation.

  “What can I do, Alicia? The woman is on a mission, and Alice told me that I should relax and go with the flow.”

  Alicia smiled in appreciation of Alice’s ever-optimistic advice. “Well, I suppose she’s right. After all what could possibly be that bad?”

  Lottie scowled in return. “What indeed?” she mumbled sarcastically before losing herself in an unusual situations vacant advert for a free-thinking individual, must be vegan.

  THE DAY OF the non-hen do arrived, and Lottie applied hair dye. Determined to look her best that night, she didn’t want Alice to regret combining their hen dos. After dispatching the boys to their father’s house for the weekend, Lottie set about analysing the contents of her wardrobe.

  A small glimmer of doubt slipped into her thoughts as she momentarily wondered whether she’d done the right thing in avoiding the purchase of a new outfit. Abandoning her task, she sat idly on the bed while the hair dye took, wondering what Alice would wear—something simple and classy she concluded glumly.

  Sitting up straight, she readjusted her left breast which was trying to escape the bra she now knew to be too small. She glanced across at Alice’s compact wardrobe and tentatively pulled open the firmly closed door.

  An oohh escaped her pursued lips as she appraised the contents. So much choice! She casually fingered a delicate cotton top, black with a shimmer of silver dancing around the collar. Glancing furtively over her shoulder, half expecting Alice to appear and admonish her for her snooping, she snuck the top from its safe position in the wardrobe and tucked it neatly into the chaos of her own. Well, if she doesn’t want to wear it then what would be the harm?

  Lottie hurried to the bathroom realising the black slime skidding towards her chest was a reminder that her dye had gone well past its allotted cooking time of thirty minutes.

  Rushing to remove the pungent gloop, she mentally put together her outfit. Casual Levis, the new Converse trainers that she’d added to her emergency credit card, and of course the now perfect top—hopefully on loan from her beloved.

  Eager to put it on in the hope that Alice would agree to the loan, she dropped her towel and rummaged for a clean pair of knickers before sliding into the outfit, careful not to let it touch her still wet hair.

  Pausing to admire her reflection in the full-length mirror she caught sight of her newly dyed hair. Gasping in horror, she clutched at the frazzled ginger strands which protruded provocatively from above her ears.

  “No. No. No!” she screeched, stumbling towards the mirror. A closer view did little to soothe her angst. She had been so engrossed in snooping, that she had managed to infuse her newly cut hair with a golden ginger hue.

  Slumping onto the bed, she sighed. “Why is this such hard work?”

  “What is such hard work?” came a voice from behind the door and Alice appeared looking delightful in a red T-shirt and low-ride hipster jeans.

  Lottie sighed loudly, feeling the inevitable pre-going-out meltdown approaching.

  Alice smiled. “You look fabulous.” She said—without conviction—Lottie thought.

  Lottie responded with a steely silence as Alice collapsed on the bed beside her.

  “Well, Annie, the Musical. We’re going to have a fine old time regardless!” she stated with a sure determination.

  Suddenly, she pulled Lottie roughly towards her and muttered throatily. “You haven’t got time to worry about your hair, there’s a pre-hen do tradition that we’ve only just got time to complete before we need to catch that train.”

  Gently caressing her lips against Lottie’s, she cupped her nipple before tenderly addressing its needs.

  After a welcome distraction, Lottie—feeling much more positive—hurried to apply her usual sweep of make-up and the two caught the later train to Aberdeen.

  FOLLOWING A BRISK walk from the station, Lottie held her breath as she entered the Rainbow Bar. The premises were dimly lit, and she adjusted her eyes to the low light, grateful for the lack of any mirrors, which could draw attention to her hair disaster. A squeal alerted them to the presence of Linda, proudly sporting a T-shirt commanding everyone to Keep Calm and Love a Lesbian. Minus her notebook, she rushed them efficiently into the bosom of their waiting entourage, all of whom blew on whistles, clearly mistaking the hen do for the pride parade. Linda bustled forward officiously waving two additional T-shirts which she thrust into their unsuspecting hands. Shaking open the first of the gaudy pink T-shirts, Lottie noted the logo—She’s with me! Alice chuckled and they both decided to embrace the gesture hastily pulling on the garments.

  When Alice went to the bar under the supervision of Virginia—who smiled resignedly at Lottie and studiously avoided being within speaking distance—Lottie took a moment to take in the scene before her. Her best efforts to play down the event and the banning of all things penis had clearly led the group in a different direction, as adorning the head of each party goer was a pert pair of tits.

  Alicia met her, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, Hen, check out the titty hats! Well, you did say no to the male genitalia!”

  Lottie hugged her. God love these crazy people and their complete inability to do anything by halves, she thought.

  Mel approached her, clearly already having sampled the delights of the cocktail menu. Roughly sloshing a glass of something welcome into Lottie’s outstretched hand, she tapped at the bottom of the glass, indicating the need for Lottie to catch up. Welcoming the warm glow associated with the frosty beverage, Lottie downed the cocktail and found herself slipping into the inevitable pink sash entitled, Gay Hen. Glancing over her shoulder, she briefly caught sight of Alice, guarded by Linda as her own sash was secured against her T-shirt.

  Catching her eye, Alice silently mouthed, “See? Fun!” before disappearing into the dance floor area, where she had spied her decidedly normal friends.

  Turning her attention back to her group, Lottie allowed herself to relax a little. It wasn’t quite as bad as she’d imagined, and a tingle of anticipation of the fun of the night to come tickled its way up her spine.

  SEVERAL MOJITOS LATER, Lottie found herself on the dance floor feeling more than a little relaxed and was delighted to catch sight of baby-dykes, Davina and Trina, as they ran towards her, dressed identically in black logo emblazoned T-shirts and jeans. Lottie shrieked with alcohol-fuelled delight and planted a kiss on the cheek of Trina. Hugging Davina, she came face-to-face with a disapproving Pru.

  Unlike the majority of her lesbian crew, Pru was wearing a shapeless navy linen smock. Her hands were clasped anxiously towards her chest as she studiously tried to avoid bodily contact with the crowd who was surging enthusiastically towards her, to the tune of “True Blue.” Just behind her, the mousy Mim gave a timid wave and Lottie smiled in return, noting the duffle bag hooked over Mim’s bony shoulder.

  Gratitude flooded Lottie for a second time, as she couldn’t believe that Pru and Mim had come to her non-hen do! Pru being so clearly out of her comfort zone, Lottie made a mental pact to ensure that she had a good time. Mutinously, Pru muttered about sexual looseness before she was swept to the centre of the dance floor by the baby-dykes. Lost in the darkness at the centre of the group, as she allowed herself a moment to readjust her view, Lottie caught sight of Pru’s giant arm waving to the beat of the music.

  Alice slid her arm around Lottie’s waist and spun her away from the spectacle of Pru and into a lingering kiss. Whispering in her ear something Lottie couldn’t quite make out, she hooked her thumb through
the belt loop of Lottie’s jeans and steered her towards the ladies’ room.

  With the door shut, the throb of the music persisted, but both were lost in the moment as Lottie fumbled for Alice’s zipper. Their lips pressed together, Lottie could taste the bitterness of Alice’s indulgence, Jack Daniels. Not a Scottish tipple but definitely something they had indulged in on their earlier dates, when Jack had provided Lottie with the courage she was lacking in order to progress their relationship to a sexual level.

  Giddy with the kiss and the gentle caress, Lottie felt a hot rush to her head and realised she’d accidentally activated the hand dryer which was uncomfortably hot to the back of her neck. Giggling, Alice spun her, placing her against the cool tile of the washroom. Sliding her hand into the warmest part of Lottie, Alice was breathless as Lottie cupped her chin before hungrily kissing her in return.

  A sharp rapping on the door interrupted their moment. Alice paused, her hand still in the warmth of Lottie’s deepest recesses and called out throatily. “Be out in a minute!”

  Lottie giggled, the rush of the alcohol fuelling her own inebriation. Alice held a finger to her lips, quietening her. The rapping continued more insistently.

  Sighing, Lottie readjusted her trousers and Alice hurried to straighten her T-shirt before boldly opening the door to challenge the intruder.

  “Surprise!” shouted a chorus of voices. A woman wearing only a showgirl thong and a workman’s tool belt containing a variety of lesbian paraphernalia, including a giant fake dildo and a spanking paddle, shimmied provocatively towards them.

  Lottie’s eyes widened in horror as the stripper, aptly named Trixie, entered the bathroom to perform what turned out to be a very sensual routine. Alice, on the other hand, fuelled by their tantalising encounter, hand on hip, appraised the sight of the nubile female with a more welcoming approach. Amused by her fiancée’s lack of embarrassment, Lottie couldn’t help but be enthralled as the woman sashayed around her future wife, egged on by the raucous crowd of onlookers. Alice needed no encouragement to enter into the spirit of things and was soon wielding the spanking paddle towards the waiting naked buttocks of the flexible Trixie.

  Virginia pushed her way to the front to get a better look before being dragged back into the crowd by her exasperated partner, Jess. Lottie looked at Alicia who was leading the whoops of delight, as she mouthed at her. “Only fifty quid. Bargain!”

  Flushed from the encounter, Alice and Lottie eventually stumbled back along the corridor giving up on the idea of an illicit encounter, for now, anyway.

  As they reached the end of the corridor, Lottie caught sight of Mim secreted in a dimly lit corner surrounded by a group of scantily-clad males who were clutching what looked like tenpound notes. Spotting Lottie, she thrust a package into the outstretched hands of the nearest male before melting into the shadows.

  Alice leaned in and whispered to her. “Mim is never one to miss a business opportunity! Forget it, Lots, it’s not our problem tonight.” Clutching her hand, she pulled Lottie back towards the dance floor where their friends were waiting.

  Lottie struggled to see any members of their group. Pushing her way through the scantily-clad men and the assortment of dykes, she finally reached the front of the crowd.

  In the inner circle Lottie met with a sight that she could barely believe. Struggling to catch up with her, Alice arrived at her side and voiced the thought that was struggling to make its way out of her mind,

  “Holy Shit!”

  They looked at one another in disbelief and slowly Lottie’s gaze returned to the sight before her. Trixie the stripper was unrecognisable, wearing the same shapeless smock that had previously done a good job of covering Pru’s hefty frame.

  Pru, now stripped naked with the exception of a gray hammock-like bra, which was fighting a losing battle to contain the mountain of flesh, was wobbling to the tune of Prince’s “Purple Rain”, her hands perched provocatively on her swaying hips. Lottie was powerless to stop her eyes wandering down the gelatinous shape towards her groin, where Pru was sporting a sparkly thong—presumably the previous property of the less than demure Trixie. Pru shimmied, her hips out of time to the music, her inner thighs rubbing furiously together working some seconds behind her buttocks which swung to curve her body.

  Beside her the baby-dykes clapped in unison, their eyes sparkling with sheer delight at the spectacle Pru was providing.

  Casting her eye around the inner circle, she caught sight of an anxious-looking Mim. How did that woman seem to be everywhere? A loud whoop from Mel brought her attention back to the dilemma before her.

  Alice leaned in. “Spiked, Lots! Her drink has got to have been spiked!”

  Galvanised into action as the reality of the situation hit her, Lottie dived forward, and grabbing a nearby rainbow flag she dived onto Prudence intent on protecting her modesty.

  A groan went up from the crowd and Lottie noticed a man discretely switching off his mobile phone camera and tucking it safely back into his top pocket. Lottie did not have time to process the implications of photographic evidence as she hustled the reluctant Pru towards the foyer.

  “Time to go home everyone, time to go home!”

  The male scrabbled to keep up with them. “Can I get a name, love? YouTube sensation this one is, for sure!”

  Pru shrieked with drug-induced delight. “The name’s Pru, my dear, do have a look at my blog!”

  Alice clamped her hand firmly over Pru’s gaping mouth and, hastily redressing her in her smock and a coat, produced by Mim, they hustled her out of the club and headed for the station.

  Suits You Sir!

  A GROAN FROM under the duvet confirmed to Lottie that Alice was suffering more than she was after their eventful night out. Smiling, she recalled Alice’s unexpected enthusiasm for the stripper routine and she couldn’t help but think that there were some aspects of Alice that she did not always fully understand. Generally the quieter of the two, Alice appeared to have revelled in her excitement at being a hen and had wholeheartedly embraced the evening arranged by their friends.

  Rolling, she reached for her phone and logged onto Facebook, where a variety of pictures had already made their way onto people’s timelines with comments such as: Top night. Lottie was satisfied that everyone had enjoyed the evening. She jumped as the phone rang, and she quickly answered, creeping out of the bedroom to avoid waking Alice.

  “Hello?” she whispered.

  A high-pitched squealing pierced her eardrums, followed by snuffling, and then the sound of someone blowing their nose.

  “Hello?” she asked again, struggling to identify the unexpected caller.

  “Charlotte!” This was followed by a pitiful mewling sound. “Pru?” Lottie replied.

  More snuffling followed.

  Finally, the caller identified herself. “Yes, it’s me, Charlotte. What shall I do?”

  Struggling to find a context for the conversation, Lottie waited for further qualifying information.

  Finally, Pru pulled herself together and recounted her tale of woe. Alice’s suspicion that her non-alcoholic drink had been spiked had been correct. This had led to a total loss of inhibition, culminating in a video of Pru’s raucous activities being posted on YouTube.

  Struggling to contain her amusement, Lottie attempted to placate the distraught Pru, promising that she would contact the website and have it removed.

  As soon as the call ended, Lottie logged on to watch the offending video. While feeling sorry for Pru, she was glad that, for once, she wasn’t the subject of internet humiliation.

  After locating the clip, titled Big Momma Gives It Large in Gay Club, Lottie was fully awake and highly amused. She decided she wouldn’t contact the help desk until Mel had time to view the clip, as a few more minutes surely wouldn’t matter. Lottie abandoned her phone and headed for the kitchen, where she made some fresh coffee for Alice, intent on reviving her fiancée to begin their busy day.

>   THE REMOTE PART of Scotland where they had made their home had some limitations. Although gay marriage had been embraced by the citizens of Scotland, the church had some way to go to catch up with the more liberal views of the country.

  Shortly after their engagement, Lottie and Alice had quietly booked a registrar from Banff for their wedding, which was to be held in Pennan Village Hall, with its spectacular beach location. The finer details, including outfits, along with the food and entertainment had yet to be decided, and that was to be the focus of what remained of their Sunday.

  Determined to make the most of their child-free weekend, they had planned a full day of wedding prep. However, before they headed out on their trip, Lottie had the unfortunate task of trying to dispatch the kittens to the owners of a variety of enquiries she had received following the advert that she had placed the previous week. She sat patiently on the sofa as a steady procession of visitors came to appraise their potential new pets. In anticipation of some resistance, she had waited until Archie was with his dad, knowing he’d be furious on his return, but she felt it would be easier to face the fall-out after the event.

  Taking her rehoming duties seriously, she had a few questions for the intended adopters. The whole process proved to be remarkably unproblematic with the exception of Stripe who appeared to have anticipated her evil plan, and remained missing in action for the duration of the viewings.

  After the final visitors left, she had completed an unsuccessful sweep of the house but failed to locate him. With a sigh she resigned herself to being defeated, but not altogether surprised, by his deliberate intention to remain and torment her.