by R. Gay
“Sometimes I’d love to be a guy,” Lauren says. “I’d love to hold a cock up to your eyes and soak them in cum. I would do so many things to your pretty, pretty face with a cock.”
After she comes, Lauren dresses immediately, back to business. I slide a finger inside my pussy and rub my clit gently with my thumb, wishing it was her fingers on my body, inside me, satisfying me.
She looks back at me. “Go home and let baldy get you off.”
That’s my cue. I limp back to my office. A few minutes later, behind a locked door, I stroke my clit hard, so hard I can feel my pelvic bone beneath my fingers. I come fiercely, disgusted and exhilarated by what I’ve become.
I TOLD A STRANGER ALL ABOUT YOU YESTERDAY
Vanessa Vaughn
I told a stranger all about you yesterday.
I told her everything. The way your bright lipstick sets off the soft brown of your hair. The way your adorable crooked tooth is visible, but only when you laugh. I told her how your delicate fingers fidgeted with your wedding ring when I hinted about my feelings. I also told her that, ever since, you’d acted as if I’d never even mentioned it.
The stranger looked me over as I talked. She crossed her legs and settled into her leather chair at the hotel bar, sparking a long menthol cigarette with a little silver lighter. She leaned her head back, blowing a plume of smoke into the air. I watched her fingers as she held the tip over the ashtray. I couldn’t help noticing they looked delicate, too—just like your hands, but without the wedding ring.
She listened intently. Of course, I was paying her by the hour. She was expected to listen. This woman analyzing my ramblings was no psychologist, but I knew somehow that a woman in her line of work could do more for my sanity than a member of any other profession.
She ran her fingers absentmindedly through her hair as I talked. It was long and black. I had requested a brunette. Her hair wasn’t exactly like yours, of course, not quite the right shade, slightly deeper in color. She didn’t have your lips or that quirky innocent smile. Still, there was something about her that was compelling. She was intense. She looked a little like you, but in a darker, less wholesome kind of way, her expression just slightly rougher around the edges. The woman sitting across from me now could never really be mistaken for your sweet suburban self. She seemed like you viewed through a warped lens.
I liked it. Something in her insisted I keep talking. Something told me this one wouldn’t fidget with her fingers and look away if I hinted at what I really wanted.
And what did I want? The truth was, even I wasn’t really sure. For once, I had another woman’s rapt attention, but I still didn’t know quite what to say. I was nervous.
Irritation started to creep into my voice as I spoke about you. I talked about the way you commanded attention every time you walked into a room. I didn’t mention it out loud, but I couldn’t help thinking about what a tease you were, how frustrating it was to want what I couldn’t have. After all, I was tired of always being the pursuer. No matter how delicious you were to look at, I was tired of always being the one watching you.
Even though I didn’t say all of this, somehow she still understood. “Follow me,” she said; without questioning, I did. She walked to the elevators, cruel heels clicking loudly against the marble floor, and waited. I walked up next to her, wondering why the button hadn’t been pressed. For a long moment, she didn’t move, so I pushed it for her.
The doors opened, and we both entered. “Four,” she insisted. I obeyed. Without a word, I reached out and touched the number quickly, watching it illuminate.
When we reached the door of the hotel room, my heart was pounding. Until now, this had all seemed theoretical, just a fantasy. Now I found myself assaulted by it from all sides. I smelled the fresh linens that had just been turned down. I noticed the slightly cooler air in the room, and the barely perceptible hum from the vents.
This hotel was nice, first-class. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that these walls had never witnessed a pairing quite like this before. I knew that was ridiculous, of course. This five-star hotel had seen its share of salacious encounters, like any other—maybe even more—but I felt self-conscious.
The stranger walked into the center of the room and turned. I felt my stomach roll as she said only one word. “Undress.”
It was a simple command, but it suddenly seemed complicated. I looked at the curve of her hips and her soft feminine lips and wanted to reach out to her, but she was watching me expectantly. Should I take off only my dress? Should I strip down to nothing? Should I do it seductively, watching her, or should I avert my eyes and obey?
In the end it didn’t matter, really. My dress found its way to the floor and I found my way onto the wide bed. “On all fours,” she said quietly. It took a moment to digest what she was saying. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I pictured my first night with a woman. I imagined you, of course—the blush of a first kiss, the slow awakening of passion. I pictured you finally noticing me as we sipped coffee together in your kitchen, or both of us overwhelmed by our desires as we rode together in your car during a storm.
What was happening here wasn’t like that. This was no date, and I didn’t really know this woman at all, but the strange anonymity I felt now was thrilling.
As I raised myself up on all fours, facing away from her, I wondered what she had in store. I wondered how I should react. Surely more was expected of me than just this. What would she think of me if I didn’t speak at least a little? I sat up and turned my head. “So what comes next?” I asked, trying to ease some of the tension. I was startled by her response.
“No questions,” she said firmly, sounding surprised I had dared to say a word. I sensed her stepping all too close to me. And then it happened. Somehow, I heard the sound before I felt it. It was a jarring noise that seemed out of place in the stillness of the room, like a book dropped in a quiet library. I jumped at the noise before I realized that her hand had connected with my backside to produce it.
I felt only a mild sting at first, but then she slapped me again, harder this time. “What are you…?” I started to ask, but she quickly cut me off.
“I told you,” she said with an air of finality, “no questions.” Her blows came faster. They were swift yet precise, and she struck only in two places, leaving an exact mark on the highest point of each cheek. All of this felt strange. I thought seriously about interrupting as she continued. But then I realized that not having to speak felt like a luxury. I didn’t need to be the aggressive one anymore. I didn’t need to work for this woman’s attention the way I always had to work for yours. I already had it. All I had to do now was obey.
I squirmed as she spanked me roughly, but I never really tried to get away. I didn’t want to. After a while, I couldn’t feel the sharp stings. Instead, a warm glow was taking over, the way a hand held against a cold window creates fog on the glass. A heat from inside me was creeping to the surface. I could picture my skin and the way it must look. I knew from the warmth that it was red and inflamed, but I loved the feeling. I gripped the bedsheets with my fingers. My eyes glazed over with a thin sheen of tears. But still I felt electrified by what she was doing to me.
When she stopped, it felt sudden. The blows had been so steady I was anticipating the next one with equal parts desire and dread. When it didn’t come, I felt almost empty. I was eager for something more.
I felt her hands against the sides of my face as she pulled a blindfold over my eyes. She ordered me down onto my back, and I obeyed almost without thinking. I could feel the hot flesh of my backside soothed by the cool sheets. I could feel my lashes blinking against the smooth fabric of my blindfold. And then I could feel her fingers.
Suddenly I belonged to someone. This woman was dominating me, and I felt no need to resist. I could simply give in. She would satisfy me.
Then I realized you had nothing to do with this. It didn’t matter if she had your precise shade of hair or your adorable cr
ooked tooth. This feeling was what I really wanted, not you. I realized I was finally letting it happen. I was finally letting another woman in.
I said very little about myself that day. I hardly spoke at all. But yesterday I suddenly realized I was telling this stranger all about me.
CUT AND DRY
Heidi Champa
My heart skipped as Ida slid into the shampoo chair. Her perfume hit my nose and made my toes curl. I saw her every month, but the butterflies never went away. Her eyes were closed and she exhaled a deep sigh, but, she didn’t seem to relax. The furrow between her brows told me something was wrong, just like last month. It was always something with Ida, but that was part of the fun.
“So, Ida, are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to guess?”
“How did you know? I haven’t said a word.”
I pressed my fingertip lightly against the crease in her forehead, right between her eyes. The wrinkle disappeared and I felt her tension ease a bit. My breath caught as I felt her soft skin, but I tried to hide it.
“God, you are good. You are never going to believe it. That bitch was cheating on me. I told her, flat out, she and I were through. You don’t think I made a mistake, do you, Karen?”
I shook my head no, like always. Each time she came in telling me she had dumped her latest conquest, I agreed with whatever she said. Ida treated me like most people treat their stylists. I was a confidante, priest and bartender all rolled into one. Most months, Ida sat in my chair, bemoaning her flat hair and unloading her emotional baggage. It seemed this month would be no exception. But each time she let a girl go I secretly said a prayer of thanks, a thank-you for making her single again.
“Anyway, that is the last time I let my sister fix me up. She wouldn’t know my type if it jumped up and bit her. I will miss that bitch’s tongue, though. She could make me come every time.”
I let the warm water wash over Ida’s hair. She sighed again and melted farther into the chair, her shoulders relaxing. Staring at her face as she enjoyed the sensations of the water made a moist heat start in my pussy. No other woman caused me to react that way. I always told myself I was as straight as an arrow, a perfect zero on the Kinsey scale. But something about Ida stirred my lust. I couldn’t explain it and, it seemed, I couldn’t control it. Pouring the shampoo into my hand, I paused for a moment before touching Ida again. I slid my hands into her hair, the lather foaming all over my fingers. I rubbed her scalp over and over, feeling her heat coming through against my skin. She moved again, this time uncrossing her lovely legs. Her skirt rose a bit, and her tanned knees peeped out from under the silky fabric.
“God, I should have you come to my house every morning. This is the only way to get your hair washed. Karen, you are magic.”
I didn’t answer; my voice was gone. Her lips were parted, and I could smell the sweet tang of cinnamon on her breath. I started the water again, washing away the sea of white foam. A stray drop of water moved over her forehead and slid down toward her neck. I watched intently as it rode a slow path over her skin. My mouth was overwhelmed by the urge to lick it away. The heat in the shampoo room was suddenly thick. I could barely breathe. Ida’s hand reached up and wiped the droplet away, but the trail of liquid remained, clinging to her soft flesh.
My mind wandered. I couldn’t help it. I fixated on her smooth, soft neck where the water had just been. My fingers ached to touch her, slide over her hot flesh. As I moved my hands mindlessly through her hair, my eyes traveled lower to her chest and the two tight buds gently poking against the clingy fabric of her blouse. I closed my eyes, picturing the color and shape of her nipples. My tongue moved involuntarily inside my mouth, desperate for the chance to lick the stiff peaks that teased me during every visit. My fingers stiffened as my pussy flooded with heat, my imagination thick with visions of my hands on her firm stomach as I sucked hungrily on her nipples. My mind filled with thoughts of Ida, head thrown back, moaning my name in ecstasy as I teased her mercilessly. I was enjoying my little fantasy, until Ida’s voice cut through my hot and hazy thoughts.
“You gonna wash all day, babe? I said I liked it, but this is a bit much.”
Reaching for a towel, I tried to refocus on the task at hand, but again I found the feel of Ida’s head under my hands distracting. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop envisioning her luscious breasts under my tongue. Again, her voice brought me back to reality.
“Earth to Karen. Where are you tonight? Don’t tell me. Were you fantasizing about a new guy? Not that I blame you. While you were working those magic fingers, I was still thinking about that bitch and her tongue. I know I said it before, but I will miss that. It’s such a shame she was crazy.”
Ida sat, fixing her smock as she flounced into my chair. I stamped my foot on the pedal of the chair, raising Ida up a bit. Mostly, I was trying to distract myself from thinking about Ida and her lover in bed together. My flushed face told me I wasn’t succeeding. Ida didn’t seem to notice, or she didn’t care. Ida wasn’t one to censor herself to protect anyone’s feelings. Many a customer was left blushing by her racy stories.
“So, what are we doing to your hair today, hon?”
“Oh, Karen. I don’t know. How about just a trim? What do you think? It just won’t cooperate lately.”
She looked absolutely beautiful with her wet, brown hair hanging around her face. Her blue eyes peeked through the fringe bangs I had given her three months ago. She stared at herself in the mirror as I let my eyes wander over her full mouth. Just as my gaze dipped, she licked her plump bottom lip. I forced my eyes back to hers, but she had caught me looking. A smirk of recognition crossed her face. She was used to getting looked at. I told myself my gaze didn’t mean anything; it was just a passing glance. But I feared we both knew better.
“Whatever you want, babe.”
“A trim it is. Why mess with perfection, right, Karen?”
Her last comment came with a wink, and I agreed. Perfection was the word for Ida. Ever since she first walked into my salon more than a year before, she had taken over my imagination. Every time I saw her name in the appointment book, my heart pounded. She showed up every month, always on time and always looking so beautiful. Her friendly nature made me like her immediately. She was one of the few clients who would ask me about myself. And while I wasn’t as forthcoming as she was, I enjoyed talking to her more than anything. Her stories always managed to make me laugh, and moisten my panties. Her effect on me was growing with every visit. My confusion was starting to overwhelm me. Could it really be that I was falling for this woman?
My hands moved through her thick chestnut tresses, always so silky. I ran my comb through her hair over and over, watching the wet strands ease apart. I picked up my scissors and made fast work of trimming her hair while Ida filled in the details of her breakup.
“I came home from work early. Such a cliché, I know. I heard that bitch moaning all the way downstairs. She always was a screamer. Well, I went straight upstairs and threw the door open. And, there she was, in bed with a dude. A dude! Do you believe that?”
“Nothing shocks me anymore. Especially when you’re doing the storytelling.”
She smiled at me and my insides melted a bit more. It was amazing how after all this time she could still make me feel like a silly schoolgirl with just a smile.
“Fair enough. But at least with me you are never bored. Come on, admit it. You live for our appointments, don’t you? You love me.”
My head snapped up and we locked eyes in the mirror. She hadn’t meant it to be a provocative statement, but as she stared at me, it sure felt provocative. Her left eye fluttered closed in a sensual wink, a trademark of hers I adored. I felt the jolt of it right through my cunt. The involuntary clench startled me with its intensity.
“You do tell some good stories, Ida.”
She smile again and picked up a magazine. I tried my best to go back to work, but her words stuck with me.
All too quickly, I f
inished with Ida’s hair and removed her smock.
“Well, what do you think, babe?”
“Oh, Karen. It looks beautiful. I love it. Once again, you have made me look fabulous. Hey, I have an event next week, would you be able to sneak me in first thing in the morning, just for a quick style?”
“Should be no problem. Just tell Angie at the desk what day.”
“Great. See you soon, Karen.”
With that, Ida walked out the door, pausing just long enough to give me a quick wave. As soon as she was gone, I ran up front to the appointment book to see what day Ida would be returning. Next Thursday. Just over a week and she would be back in my chair.
Thursday finally arrived. My week of waiting had driven me to distraction. I couldn’t get Ida out of my head. I got to the salon early, hoping to have some time before Ida arrived. When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw Ida’s black BMW waiting. Straightening myself as best I could in the car, I stepped out into the chilly morning air. Ida wore a business suit and big sunglasses. She walked toward me in very high heels that made her long legs look even longer.
“Thank you so much for doing this. We have this big presentation today, and I really want to look good.”
“Leave it all to me.”
I tried to keep my hands from shaking as I unlocked the door. Ida hung her coat on the hook and removed her suit jacket. The silk camisole she had on underneath clung to every inch of her. It was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples peaked in the cool air of the shop. I threw on the heat and she followed me into the shampoo room. I swallowed hard as she sat down, pushing her chest out slightly as she eased her head back in to the sink bowl.