by Anne Eton
“I think they heard me yell, and figured they’d check it out.”
Ricarda lowered her eyes to Margaret’s chest. “So, if you’d gotten that suit wet, would they have brought you another one?”
Margaret laughed. “They might have. They look like they’re that good.”
“Too bad. I was hoping you’d at least take the jacket off.”
Margaret looked at the table. “Can we… Kinda tone it down? Just a little, sorry. I’m really, I’m, it’s, I’m just kinda stressed.”
“Sure, sure. Sorry.”
Chang entered noiselessly, carrying full plates and bowls on a tray.
Ricarda raved about the food, and Margaret seemed to relax a little. They ordered another round of drinks. After the meal, on Margaret’s recommendation, Ricarda ordered cardamom ice cream.
“This is awesome,” Ricarda said as she scooped the green frozen dessert.
“Told you. Although I don’t think cardamom ice cream is Chinese. But, hey.”
“Wanna share?”
“That’s okay. It’s too far away.”
Ricarda rose, picked up her chair, and set it down next to Margaret. Retrieving her bowl and spoon, Ricarda sat and placed the bowl between them.
“Great idea,” Margaret said. She poked the ice cream with her own spoon and took a bite. “Oh my God,” she sighed. “It’s so, so good.”
“No kidding. You come here all the time though, right? Don’t you have this a lot?”
“I try not to eat a lot of sugar,” Margaret replied. “Keeps me in shape.”
“See, I could make a cute sexy remark, right there. But I won’t.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
They smiled at each other, a long, lingering look. Chang entered.
“May I interest you in anything else?” he asked. “A liqueur, perhaps?”
Ricarda raised her drink. “I could take another one of these.” She looked at Margaret.
Margaret hesitated. “Well… all right.”
Chang left and immediately returned with two full glasses.
“That guy would be the best flight attendant ever,” Ricarda said after he departed. “He’s so good, he’d double the route’s business in a week.”
“Yeah, but what if he took your job?”
“Good point.”
The ice cream bowl was empty. The women sat back, cradling their drinks. After talking a long time, they let a silence fill the air.
“So,” Margaret finally said. “What are your plans tonight?”
“Depends on you. Are you tired?”
Margaret shook her head.
“Well then,” Ricarda continued. “Offer me a plan, Stan.”
Margaret paused. “We could go see the city. It’s really beautiful at night.”
Ricarda’s nose wrinkled. “The traffic’s crazy. It scares me.”
“You’re right. Okay. I know a great all-night karaoke bar.”
Ricarda made an unexcited face.
“How about a boat ride? No traffic. Not as much, anyway.”
Ricarda made another face.
Margaret lowered her eyes. “We could just hang out in my suite. It’s got a great view of the city, and, like, ten thousand channels.”
When Margaret finally looked up, she saw Ricarda smiling. Ricarda nodded.
* * *
Margaret walked into the suite, holding the door open for Ricarda. The blonde rolled her carry-on inside, gazing around. “Wow!”
The living room could easily have fit all the passengers from the flight when Margaret and Ricarda first met. Striped red-and-gold wallpaper gave the accommodations a glitzy feel. Every object seemed to be gilded with gold paint. Numerous vases with fresh flowers filled the room. The plush sofa and chairs in the central area were upholstered with super-soft purple microfiber. An enormous flat-screen television took up almost an entire wall.
Ricarda took it all in, open-mouthed.
Margaret shut the door. “Pretty fancy, huh? For the record, I do not request these rooms. Murray puts me here.” She tossed her jacket on a chair.
Ricarda grinned. “Lady, you really are first-class.” A shooting beam of green light caught her eye. She released her carry-on and approached the sliding glass doors that opened to the balcony.
Margaret followed her. She laughed. “The light show.”
Outside, green laser beams shot into the sky from golden cupolas atop two very tall, narrow buildings in the near distance.
“C’mon,” Margaret said. She opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony. Ricarda followed.
“We sometimes see those lights at night, from the plane,” Ricarda said. “But I’ve never seen them up close.”
“It’s the Meteor Resort. They opened recently.” Margaret explained that the Meteor Hotel and Casino was owned by a Hong Kong firm, and that they were competitors with Murray, and that they drove Murray crazy…
The women stood side-by-side facing forward with their hands on the balcony rail. As her host talked, Ricarda’s hand slid slowly toward Margaret. Without looking, Ricarda reached with her little finger and touched Margaret’s hand, as light a touch as could be offered.
Margaret kept talking. Ricarda’s finger moved over Margaret’s knuckles, a caress. After some minutes, Ricarda’s hand slipped over Margaret’s, holding it.
Finally, Margaret’s information about the Meteor ran dry. Turning to Ricarda, she asked: “Do you…”
Ricarda’s lips were upon hers. Margaret’s eyelids closed. Ricarda snaked her arms around the taller woman, keeping her mouth pressed.
After some time, Ricarda broke off the kiss. Margaret opened her eyes.
“Well. That was handful of,” Margaret said.
Ricarda giggled. “What?”
“I mean, that, that was a handful. It was a handful.” Margaret flushed.
“Sounded like it was a handful of something.” Ricarda slid her palms down to hold Margaret’s hands. “Was it a handful of something?”
“Don’t tease me.”
“Sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
“Okay, I’m not. But c’mon, I’ve been waiting for this a long time.”
“Can we… talk?”
Ricarda’s face grew serious. She nodded. They walked back inside and sat on the sofa.
“Thanks,” Margaret said.
“Sure.” Ricarda brushed Margaret’s hair, running her fingers over her ear.
“So.” Margaret exhaled. “I’ve been thinking about this, and… I just don’t think we should.”
“We shouldn’t what?” Ricarda raised Margaret’s hand to kiss it.
“Don’t be like that.”
“No, really. We shouldn’t… what? Go to bed? Be friends? Hang out on this incredibly soft, comfy couch?” Ricarda stretched out luxuriously, like a cat. She smiled.
Margaret seemed near tears. “It’s just not something I’m ready for.”
Ricarda stopped smiling. She sat up. “Can you explain why? I think I deserve that, at least.”
“Of course you do… See, that’s the problem. You deserve more, a lot more.”
“Than you?”
“Yeah.” Margaret looked away.
“Don’t you think that’s something for me to decide?”
“Ricarda, I… I’m going to disappoint you. Wait, let me finish. I know you think I’m this person who will make you happy—maybe for a night, maybe longer. But I WON’T. I’m just… not good when it comes to this stuff.”
“I see,” Ricarda said softly. She lifted Margaret’s hand again, considering it. “Can I offer my thoughts?”
“I dunno,” Margaret replied, laughing nervously. “Every time you do, it seems I cave in.”
Ricarda looked into Margaret’s eyes and smiled. Then she returned her gaze to Margaret’s hand, holding it in front of her face. “I think… you’re saying I don’t deserve to go through whatever trauma I’ll go through, if we take this to your be
droom.”
Ricarda gently parted Margaret’s fingers one by one. “So,” she continued, “you’re making this more about you being concerned for me, than about you just being scared. Scared for yourself.” Ricarda kissed Margaret’s little finger. Margaret inhaled silently.
Ricarda moved the hand closer to her mouth. “See, I think… you’re used to being in control. And in a boardroom, that’s perfect. But in your personal life…” Ricarda kissed the next finger. “It’s not an asset. It’s a liability.”
“I know,” Margaret managed to say.
“And if you do this, with me, tonight, you don’t know what will happen.” Ricarda kissed Margaret’s middle digit with a slow, soft brush of her lips. “Want to know what else I think?”
Margaret did not answer. Her chest raised and lowered as she breathed.
“I think,” Ricarda continued, “you’re scared you’ll like it. That you’ll like me. So much that it’ll throw your life into turmoil if I leave this beautiful suite in the morning, and never see you again.”
Margaret started to cry.
“I promise that won’t happen,” Ricarda said. She reached and touched Margaret’s chin, raising her face. Margaret opened her eyes and looked at Ricarda. “I promise,” Ricarda repeated firmly.
“You can’t promise that,” Margaret said. Tears ran down her cheeks. “What if I’m horrible? What if—”
“Are you scared I’ll leave? Or are you scared I won’t leave, if you want me to?”
“I’m scared of everything,” Margaret shouted with a rare lack of self-control. “Can’t you see? I can’t do this. I just can’t!”
“Is there anything you’ve said,” Ricarda asked quietly, “that would be different if I was a man?”
Margaret looked at the couch. She finally shook her head, no.
“So this isn’t about me as a woman. It’s about relationships.”
“I don’t know,” Margaret whispered. “I’m so confused. I’ve never felt so…” She let it trail off. Looking up, Margaret stared into Ricarda’s eyes. “Sometimes I feel that us, sexually, would be amazing. You know? If it actually worked. But then I think, ‘It’s just not me.’”
Ricarda leaned forward; her face moved closer and closer to Margaret’s. They kissed. Ricarda touched Margaret’s lips with her finger. Margaret opened them. Ricarda’s tongue darted inside like a quick curious creature. They made out for over a minute.
“That seems like you,” Ricarda said, pulling away. She brushed tears from Margaret’s face.
“I…”
Ricarda reached again and held the other woman’s hand firmly. “No matter what, it’s a risk. If we do this, we might regret we did. But if I walk out, right now, we might regret it didn’t happen.”
“Yes.”
“So why don’t we decide the positive action, not the negative. Do, rather than not do. It may feel crazy, and reckless, but let’s take a chance. Let’s make tonight unforgettable.”
Margaret rubbed Ricarda’s hand, staring at it. Finally she whispered: “If it’s, do… I don’t know what to do.”
When she raised her face again, she saw Ricarda smiling. Touching Margaret’s cheek once more, Ricarda said: “Why don’t you let me pilot this flight?”
After a long pause, Margaret nodded.
Ricarda rose, holding her hand. She tugged. Margaret stood up, unresisting.
Ricarda turned, looked around, then led Margaret toward a massive doorway through which the corner of a bed could be seen. They walked into the bedroom.
An array of designer track lights across the ceiling had bathed the room in a golden hue. On the bed a blue silk comforter covered a California-King-sized mattress, its headboard nearly hidden by a mountain of puffy white pillows.
Ricarda stopped and closed the big double doors behind them. She turned to Margaret. “Where’s the light switch? I want it dark and romantic.” She grinned, a sassy smirk.
Margaret lifted both her hands and clapped twice. The entire suite went dark.
“Nice,” Ricarda said in the pitch black.
“It also can give dimmer light,” Margaret said. “There’s levels. But you have to clap once and then say a number, like, twenty. That’ll make it one-fifth of the full…”
Ricarda’s hand found Margaret’s arm in the darkness. She stepped close. Their shirts touched. Margaret kept talking a nervous babble as Ricarda’s hands crept up to her shoulders, then her neck. The smaller woman kissed her host, gently cutting off the conversation.
Margaret’s eyelids closed.
Ricarda finally broke off her kiss. When they both opened their eyes, their vision had adjusted to the darkened room. Some ambient light from outside gave the window a dull glow.
Looking down, Margaret saw Ricarda’s waist. Moving her hands carefully, she placed both palms on Ricarda’s hips before closing her eyes again.
Ricarda studied her. “How are you?” she asked.
“Okay,” Margaret said with a slight quaver.
“We can take this slow.”
“Thank you,” Margaret said. She exhaled and opened her eyes again.
“And if you want to stop or take a time out, just say something. I don’t want you to feel you’ve committed to anything. Honestly, I’d like to share your bed tonight, but even if we keep all our clothes on, it’ll make me happier than you know.”
Margaret smiled. “You’re so sweet. Thank you. Really.”
“You’re welcome,” Ricarda said. She then kissed Margaret with a hunger that belied her words. Margaret’s eyes widened, then closed once more.
Pulling back slightly while she kissed, Ricarda caressed Margaret’s throat. The fingers moved lower, until they touched the shirt. Moving her fingertips expertly, Ricarda popped open the first button.
Margaret stiffened. Ricarda paused. Margaret finally relaxed. Still kissing, Ricarda undid the remaining buttons one-by-one.
“Ah, yes,” Ricarda sighed as she pulled the bottom of Margaret’s shirt from the skirt’s waist with small tugs. “Brooks Brothers blouse, I assume?”
“Polo.” Margaret tried not to tremble as she allowed Ricarda to lift her arms over her head, like a child. With a fluid movement, Ricarda pulled the shirt up and over. It fluttered to the floor.
Stealing a quick kiss, Ricarda unhooked Margaret’s bra with a fast sneaky movement. It sagged, suddenly slack. Ricarda gently pulled the bra straps down the taller woman’s shoulders.
Margaret giggled with embarrassment, holding the cups close to her chest with folded arms.
“Ah, ah!” Ricarda said. “None of that, young lady.” Firmly, Ricarda lowered Margaret’s arms. The bra slid off them to the floor.
Ricarda moved in, snuggling close, kissing Margaret’s neck. Margaret gasped. “I know I said I’d go slow, but, God, honey,” Ricarda breathed. She slipped a hand under Margaret’s breast, staring at the aureole. “Big boobs. Oh, big boobs.”
Ricarda’s lips flew toward the nipple. Her mouth covered the breast’s peak with a smacking noise. Margaret cried out and instinctively tried to writhe away, but Ricarda’s arm pulled tight around her waist; there was no escape. Ricarda sucked hungrily.
“Yeow,” Margaret whispered. “Easy. Easy does it.”
Ricarda ignored her. She pushed her mouth harder into Margaret’s chest; the breast ballooned up all around her cheeks, hiding her face.
Margaret struggled, feebly trying to free herself. Holding her quarry, Ricarda’s hands snaked down to Margaret’s ass. Her fingers began bunching up the skirt fabric, raising the hem higher and higher.
Finally, the skirt was completely over Margaret’s waist. Still sucking the breast, Ricarda slipped both hands into Margaret’s panties, kneading her butt.
“God,” Margaret exclaimed softly.
Ricarda moaned, quickly sucking the other breast. Then she straightened and kissed Margaret aggressively, a loud smack of the lips.
“Oh, you do not disappoint me,” Ricarda whispered. Her finger
s darted around Margaret’s waist, finding the skirt’s zipper. “You do not disappoint me in the least.” Unzipping the skirt, Ricarda pushed it down to the floor. Dropping to one knee, she peeled Margaret’s plain white panties down. The thick brown bush revealed itself, a perfect triangle sloping between strong white thighs.
Ricarda stared, not moving. Margaret watched her, breathing heavily. Finally, Ricarda stood up again.
“Take off those shoes, sweetie,” Ricarda said, seeming to gain her poise once more. “And get on the bed.” Ricarda began undressing, glancing down as she unbuttoned her flight attendant’s vest.
Margaret slipped off her flats and smiled, turning to the bed. She climbed upon it, crawling toward the pillows. Her big breasts swung gently in the dark. She flipped herself over and sat up on the pillows, watching.
Ricarda pulled off her shirt. It fell to the floor. Reaching behind her back, she freed her small breasts from the bra. A few more movements, and she stood naked. Even in the dark her blonde bush shone like gold, reflecting the dim light. She stood motionless.
Margaret smiled again. “Well, are you going to stand there all night?”
“I’m just taking it in,” Ricarda said. “Lady, I’ve been dreaming of you, exactly like that, sitting up on a bed, naked. Waiting for me.”
Margaret opened her arms to her. Ricarda climbed onto the bed, kissing Margaret’s legs.
“Ah!” Margaret giggled. She jerked her legs away. “Tickles.”
Ricarda, heedless, kept kissing Margaret’s writhing body higher, until she had reached the neck. She kissed and licked the small depression within Margaret’s clavicle.
“How did you know I like that so much?” Margaret sighed. She moved her head, giving Ricarda better access. “That’s my favorite thing, ever.”
Ricarda did not respond, moving lower again. She kissed Margaret’s breasts before sucking the nipples once more.
“Oh, Ricarda,” Margaret gasped. “I want you. I mean it. I’ve been thinking of you, of us, like this…”
Ricarda began kissing her way down Margaret’s stomach, flicking her tongue in and out of her navel.
“…and I was so scared,” Margaret continued. “But really, I wanted this. You knew. You knew, my darling…”
Ricarda moved lower still, raising Margaret’s knee up and over her head. She settled down between the strong thighs.