If the Shoe Fits

by E. J. Noyes

  Why now? And why had it hit me so suddenly? Like spending some time with her during the week plus some erotic dreams suddenly equals intense attraction? It was literally like someone had flipped a switch from “Dates guys” to “You think Brooke Donnelly is cute now.”

  Hormone weirdness?

  Early midlife crisis?

  Taken over by a Body Snatcher?

  I grabbed my personal laptop and hopped onto the couch with my legs crossed and it resting on my knees. I did searches for naked women, athletic women and on a whim naked breasts. After discarding gross and unsavory sites, I settled on a few tasteful images and steeled myself for the rush of arousal. But there was nothing. I could appreciate the aesthetics of the women, but aside from that, zip zero zilch.

  So, random images did nothing. Watching Brooke’s teammates had produced absolutely no response. Attractive women were attractive but that was it. So, the only time I got that feeling was looking at Brooke. Thinking of her. Scrunching my eyes closed, I tried to eliminate the memory of her sweaty, panting body. The curl and release of muscle as she sprinted across the field. The arc of her body as she leapt.

  It didn’t work.

  Instead, I got a bonus vision of Brooke working in her shed, the welding, her pleased grin whenever she saw me, the way she always lifted her shirt to wipe sweat from her face and how it exposed her belly. A low hum of arousal set up shop, refused to go away and only got worse the more I thought about Brooke…sweaty…panting. Oh God. Then my brain jumped to the thing I’d been trying not to think about. The Grape-Nuts dream. Help.

  My whole life, I’d liked men. Tall men. Brooke was obviously a woman, an incredibly pretty woman full of lovely muscular curves and barely an inch taller than me. I should not be feeling like this. No scratch that, not should not because there was nothing wrong with it, but why the sudden turnaround? Despite my feeble attempts at rationalization and explanation, no matter how hard I tried to shove her aside, she slid back to front and center.

  I closed down the browser and opened a blank document. My fingers took off, words filling the space.

  Why do I suddenly want to kiss (and more) Brooke Donnelly?

  -I like spending time with her—don’t like being away from her but not in a weird creepy way. More like being excited to see her, and when we do the goodbye thing it’s kind of hard because our things are always so short.

  -She’s so funny and gets my humor too.

  -Adorable with her kinda social anxieties and blushing and stuff.

  -Sometimes she looks at me and I feel like she’s having dirty thoughts and I like it.

  -She’s cute hot, pretty/beautiful, great body, oh her ass and legs. Ears…

  -She makes me feel comfortable and I hope vice versa.

  -I want to know more about her, but the things that are more than just what friends know.

  -Her lips look so soft.

  -Is it just because of those dreams? Don’t think so.

  -I care about her, care about her feelings and her hopes and dreams and that sounds SO lame but it’s true.

  -She gets how important family is to me.

  -I think about her a lot when we’re apart. Why? See above.

  -Sabs likes her. Not a reason, but helps if something happens between me and Brooke.

  -If (huge if) something happens (!!!) she’s someone I want my family to meet and vice versa.

  Brilliant list, Jana. That helps exactly…zero. All these things and I still couldn’t figure out the root cause of my sudden intense attraction. Basically all I had was I like her because I like her. Only one thing left to do. Shower and orgasm to clear my head. I stalked through my apartment, stripping off my clothes.

  My go-to fantasy for a fast climax was being lifted onto a table and fucked senseless. Leaning against the shower wall, with blissfully hot water cascading over my head, I closed my eyes and let my brain take over. A hand played over my breasts, lightly pinching my nipples before sliding down my stomach and slipping between my legs. Squeezing my clit lightly between thumb and forefinger, I jerked as a wave of fresh arousal overcame me.

  Unannounced, the fantasy took an abrupt turn. Hopping up onto the table, I opened my legs to Brooke and pulled her in. Her tongue made a wet path over my neck, licking and sucking and lightly biting, sending tingles of pleasure through my nipples. She yanked off my panties and thrust her hand between my thighs, stroking me firmly. Oh my fucking God. I opened my eyes again. My clit throbbed almost painfully, and I was so wet, I could feel it thick and hot against my fingers.

  In that instant, I decided to drop all pretenses, run with whatever my brain wanted and let the rest of the fantasy play out. There was no teasing myself, trying to draw my orgasm out. I wanted desperately to come, and I wanted to come hard. In my head, Brooke finger fucked me, curling forward to find that perfect spot before pounding me hard until I began to cry out. Then she withdrew, spread my legs and bent down to lick me, tongue stroking my clit and knowing fingers tweaking my nipples.

  My climax rose swift and hard, lingering with delicious heat until my knees almost gave way and I was left panting against the wall of my shower. And the whole thing was brought about by the image of Brooke’s head between my thighs. Fuck. As quickly as I could, I composed myself, finished my shower and dressed.

  I needed something to drink, smokes, and a sister.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hoping Sabine had meant it when she’d implied that she’d be home all night, I let myself in and quickly closed the door as Titus, their ginger and white cat, came sprinting toward me with his tail in the air. I picked him up, slung him over my shoulder and walked through the house. “Sabs?” I called in case she was in a compromising position.

  My sister’s response came from the den. “In here.”

  I bent down to drop her cat and my overnight bag on the floor at the entrance to the room. “Bec still at work?”

  “Yep, back in the morning.” Sabine rolled over on the couch and bookmarked her page. She was reading Kafka in original German, probably for the eleventh billion time, the fucking nerd. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” She glanced at the bottle of whiskey in my hand, a grin lighting her face. “I’ll get some glasses.”

  While she fiddled in the kitchen, I dropped onto the couch, rested my feet on their heavy wooden coffee table and opened the bottle of Redbreast I’d picked up on the way over. The name seemed appropriate. For a brief moment I considered just swigging from the bottle before I remembered that firstly I wasn’t at a college party and secondly my problem wasn’t actually that bad.

  From the kitchen, Sabs called, “Did you guys eat at the pub? Are you hungry?”

  “No, and yes.” Didn’t eat, been kind of preoccupied fantasizing about a woman, you know how it is.

  She returned with glasses, and a hastily assembled plate of cheese, salami, crackers, and dip. Best sister. I shoved a cracker and cheese in my mouth and lined up the glasses. My pour was long and I gulped down an eye-watering mouthful, sucking in a few breaths to quell the burning in my chest.

  “Like that is it?” Sabine stared first at me, then the single finger of whiskey I’d pushed over to her. She took a measured sip and made a sound of enjoyment. “What’s going on? You don’t seem like you’re about to drop a health bombshell on me, I talked to Mom an hour ago, and I know you’re kicking ass at work. So I have to assume this is about a guy.”

  “Not exactly.” After a much smaller swallow I mumbled, “A girl.”

  Sabine’s eyes went wide before she uttered a quiet, “Oh. Shit.”

  “Mhmm. Pretty much.”

  “Care to elaborate?” Her overly expressive hands were the stillest I’d ever seen them. Oh dear. I’d totally shell-shocked my sister.

  I shrugged. “I’m having lusty thoughts about Brooke. Actually, I think it might be more than just lust. I think there’s feelings in there too, like on top of the great friendship feelings I think maaaybe it could be a bit of plain old roma
nce as well.”

  “Shit,” she said again, this time drawn out and a touch incredulous. Sabine chewed the inside of her cheek, apparently trying to figure out how to best approach my revelation.

  I said nothing more, happy to drink and wait for her to tell me what to do. When I’d lowered the level in my glass by another wonderful burning spicy mouthful she said, “I was just teasing you about her but we’ve never really talked about this sort of stuff for you, have we? I mean I just assumed because you’ve always dated guys so…” Her eyes widened further. “Oh no, that conversation when we had coffee the other day. I totally missed the point, didn’t I? Fuck, sorry.”

  “’S’okay, I wasn’t exactly forthright. And yeah, I think the assumption about my sexuality thus far goes for you, me, and everyone else too.”

  “Mmm, yeah. I mean, it’s a surprise but honestly, not that it’s Brooke. I’ve never known you to spend this much time with anyone, or casually mention someone as often as you do with her. And watching you with her…” She made a you know gesture, not needing to say what I was well aware of.

  “You’re telling me. So what am I supposed to do about it?”

  She lifted her feet onto the couch, knees bent and an arm wrapped loosely around her shins. “First of all, are you bothered by it? By feeling this way?”

  “Bothered, no. Confused, yes. Very.” My ears heated as I confessed, “I’ve had dreams about her, like the other night it was one where she was going down on me in an aisle at the supermarket and I was eating Grape-Nuts the whole time. And you know I hate Grape-Nuts.”

  Sabs let out a low whistle. “Sexy.”

  Obviously it had been, if the benchmark for sexy was measured against the fact I’d woken up and climaxed almost immediately. I sliced off some more cheese, and carefully assembled a sandwich with crackers and salami. “I’ve honestly never really considered a woman romantically, Sabs. Like my whole life has been mapped out—find a guy I can actually stand being around for long periods of time, marry him, pop out a couple of kids, give them funny German names like Hubertus and Brigita and make them keep my last name to carry on the Fleischer line. Then give them to Aunt Sabine and Aunt Bec to babysit because you both love kids so much.”

  She flipped me the bird.

  I answered with one of my own. “I think my brain has always seen a guy as the path of least resistance to my end game. This…attraction to a woman was not part of my plan.”

  “So it’s physical as well then, not just like a personality or friend crush?”

  I thought about my orgasm in the shower, and my reply squeaked out. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s physical too.”

  “It’s no wonder you’re confused,” she said sweetly. It would have been so easy for her to be smug and superior, but she was gentle and methodical. Typical Sabine. There’d undoubtedly be teasing later, but for now she was in fix-it mode.

  “I’m just…how does…why? And it’s so fast, I’ve only known her for a month.”

  “True, but you’ve been doing a lot of activities with her, right? Your morning coffee, the Ultimate games, drinks and stuff. Kind of like going on dates with guys to test the waters. You either get a feeling or you don’t.”

  “Mmm, you’re right. I need a smoke.” I wanted more burning, more feeling, more…something. I wanted to be drunk and to wake up hungover and with all the answers magically in my head.

  Sabs grimaced, shuffling backward as if I’d lit up then and there in her house. “Really?”

  “Don’t be such a nag.” I very rarely smoked and only ever when I was drinking. I suspected Sabine’s hatred of smoking was partly because of the health thing and partly because she was jealous when our father and I snuck off for cognac and cigarillos. She shared the military with him. I shared a health vice or two.

  We sat together on her front step with glasses in hand while I sucked hungrily on my cigarette. Sabine made a show of leaning away or waving her hand whenever the smoke curled anywhere near her, until I twisted away, exasperated. “Your ex smoked, remember?”

  “Yes and I didn’t like it. It’s even worse when you do it. You know I hate you killing yourself with those things.”

  So dramatic. “They’re ultra lows and I haven’t smoked in months and then months before that.” After another deep inhalation, I quietly confessed, “Sabs, I’m terrified.”

  “Of what?” she asked.

  “Pretty much everything. I mean, what if I’m wrong about what I’m feeling? What if it’s just hormones, or an early midlife crisis or something? I’m so bad at relationships, what if I end up bailing on her and hurting her? What if I’m crap at sex with a woman? What if I don’t even like it? I’ve only kissed a woman once in college when we were both kinda wasted, and from what I remember, it was…not good.”

  The glass on its way to my sister’s mouth stopped immediately. “Whaaat? Fuck, I had no idea you’d even done that.” Both eyebrows lifted, she seemed to consider this as she sipped her drink. “Does it feel wrong thinking about Brooke as a potential partner or even…lover?”

  “Not at all. You know it’s not that I’ve got issues with it, but the opportunity never arose again after that one time and I never felt compelled to go chasing after it. I’ve never enjoyed spending time with, or been physically attracted enough to, any woman to want to deviate from my plan.” Somewhat embarrassed, I added, “I don’t even know what to expect.”

  “We aren’t mystical creatures, Jannie. You know we live just like other couples with jobs and bills and pets and arguments and vacations et cetera.”

  I attempted smoke rings. None of them worked. “I know that, obviously. It’s not that, it’s just that I can’t get past how did I get from never even considering it to this?” Frowning, I amended, “Or maybe I’ve always had those sorts of feelings but deep down, and I mistook them for just admiration or whatever because no woman has ever made me feel like Brooke does. Nobody’s ever uh, sparked me before. Only Brooke. One woman, Sabs. And I checked, like I went online and…looked at things. No reaction. At all.”

  Sabs looked like she was considering asking what things exactly I’d looked at, then changed her mind. “It wouldn’t be the first time. You know my friend Megan from med school? She only dated men before she met her partner at yoga. Same thing. She’d literally never thought of it until it was right there in front of her, a great ass in yoga pants. True love. And they’ve been together twelve years and she always says she doesn’t look at other women sexually. You don’t have to find every woman attractive to be admitted to the club, you can just be gay for one person. And you can change your mind later and date guys again. Or date another woman. The only rule in the Lady Love Club is don’t be an asshole.”

  I was pretty sure I could manage not to be an asshole. “Brooke has a great ass,” I admitted. I’d looked. A few times. Along with a few other parts of her. That now-familiar curl of heat flared again.

  Sabs clapped enthusiastically. “Jannie! Look at you, already checking out her assets!” She wiped fake tears. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. “I just don’t know how to approach it. How to approach her. Oh hi, I think I previously classified myself as pretty much straight but now I think I might be a little bit gay for you but I’m not sure and would you be willing to let me experiment a bit just in case? That hardly seems fair.”

  Sabine grinned. “I think something along those lines would be a start. Or you could do the classic scared gay crush thing.”

  “Which is?”

  “Get drunk with her, say some suggestive shit until it leads to making out. If it doesn’t go well then blame it on booze and feel like crap and mope for ages. If she’s into you then she’ll go for it regardless of how you put it to her, and if she’s not then problem solved anyway.”

  A new panic overtook my original panic. “Oh shit. I hadn’t even considered that the flirting and stuff wasn’t genuine. Fuck, what if she’s just playing around? I mean if she was into me,
shouldn’t she have made a move by now?”

  “Ehhyeah, I don’t think she is playing,” Sabs said carefully.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Part lust, part admiration, part awe, and part like she wants to hoist you over her shoulder and drag you back to her cave to have her way with you.”

  I relaxed by a micro-fraction, then imagined Sabs’s metaphorical cave scenario and tensed again. But it was a good kind of tension.

  Sabs bumped my knee with hers. “Trust me on this one. So when she says okay, and I’m ninety-nine point nine to the power of infinity percent sure she will say she wants to ravish you, where do you go from there? What do you want from it?”

  Ah, there was the problem. I really didn’t know. Usually I went on dates with men then said no thanks after a few. Sometimes they lasted more than five dates and sometimes there was some sex thrown in. Sometimes the sex was even passable. I’d had a couple of months-long relationships but I hadn’t had a long-term relationship since my second year of college and even then it’d only lasted eight months.

  But with Brooke, we were already good friends and enjoying each other’s company quite a bit throughout the week and on weekends. None of her quirks annoyed me, which was a goddamned miracle itself. Would we perhaps go on a few dates, add sex to it a couple of times and then I’d be done like I was with everyone else? What if she decided I was no good at sex with a woman? Fuck, what if I was bad at sex with a woman? Would that be the end of our friendship too because I’d ruined it by wanting to see if the reality of being with her matched up to my ever-increasing fantasies?

  I groaned, stubbed out my butt and drained the last mouthful of Redbreast.

  “What’s wrong?” Sabine stood and offered me her hand, hauling me to my feet. Those feet grew uncooperative as we walked back inside, with me repeating my inner ramblings for my sister.