by Olivia Myers
With this thought cemented in mind, she slipped out of the apartment, spotting the blonde from that very morning lingering at the elevators. Deciding to take the stairs, Katie went in the opposite direction and began the descent to the ground floor. As she stepped out into the cool night air, she was immediately assaulted by the pure noise that was the nightlife in Tribeca. Cars honking, songs with heavy bass thumping, the familiar shouts of road rage. She absorbed her environment, making her way to the crosswalk and crossing the road without waiting for the signal. Traffic was essentially at a standstill for the time being. She received a few whistles and approving honks, but she certainly wasn’t going to lower her standards to fucking some desperate housewife in the back of her SUV. The walk to her favorite club was short, and she stepped to the front of the line, flashing the bouncer her ID before being allowed inside. If the sound outside the club was loud, inside was deafening. Bodies on the dance floor moved in time with the steady thump of the music, and she made her way to the bar, taking her usual seat and smiling at the bartender. Friends were few and far between for Katie. The bartender was the only woman in the club she hadn't had a sexual encounter with, and that was on principal alone. It was undeniable that the bartender was a sexy young thing, but Katie had revealed far too much on many a stressful night to feel comfortable exposing any more of herself to the woman.
“Kayla,” she said with a smile, tapping her gloved fingers on the bar top. Kayla, the bartender, smiled cheerfully upon seeing her friend and edged over to her side of the bar.
“Hey sweetie. The usual?” she inquired, already reaching for the bottle of Hennessey.
“Of course,” Katie replied, sipping on the drink with a content smile. Another of her principals was to not get absolutely shit-faced drunk before taking some bar-hopping, floozy home. Her day, however, was almost enough to make her consider breaking that personal rule. She continued to sip her drink, feeling a tap on her shoulder. She turned to face whoever was interrupting her short personal time, letting out a low appreciative whistle upon facing the other woman. She was slender, blonde, and if Katie were honest with herself, she reminded her a bit of Wendy Walsh. She wasn’t sure why her thoughts kept returning to the blonde from work, but she decided it was something to consider at a later point in time. She downed the remainder of her drink, smiling toothily at the blonde who had approached her.
“W--anna dance?” the younger girl asked shyly. Katie mused that the girl was probably only just old enough to even get in a bar, and likely in way over her head.
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Katie purred, rising from her seat and taking the blonde by the hand, guiding her out to the dance floor. She could hear cheers, likely from the blonde’s friends, she realized when the young girl blushed at the sound. “Haven’t seen you around here before,” Katie said conversationally, resting her hand on the blonde girl’s hips and guiding her into facing the same direction as Katie.
“I, ah…” The blonde hesitated as Katie began to grind against her. It took a few moments, but she soon gave into the groove of the music. Before long she was following Katie’s lead in rubbing and grinding lewdly. “I just turned 21. I’ve never been to any bar, let alone a gay bar.” The blonde giggled, pressing her ass to Katie’s crotch. Katie swallowed a groan, running her hands up and down the other girl’s sides. She would be lying if she said she didn’t cop a slight feel, but the younger woman didn’t seem to be complaining. If anything, the blonde began to rub more fervently against Katie’s thigh, all but dry humping her in the middle of the dance floor.
“Damn, Billi!” one of the girl’s friends called, and the blonde seemed to regain her sense of shame, pulling away from Katie with an embarrassed look.
“I… I’m sorry," the girl offered awkwardly, looking as if she were ready to burst into tears. Katie shushed her soothingly, removing her glove just long enough to stroke a hand along the girl’s jawline. Katie’s mind was flooded with images of herself pounding into the girl’s ass with a ten inch strap-on. Billi blushed, both at Katie’s touch, and the hungry way the older woman was looking at her.
“Listen. I know this is new for you but… wanna go somewhere more private? Your ass is out of this world, and I’m going crazy thinking of all the things I want to do it,” Katie murmured, tracing a hand along Billi’s side and settling her hand on her perfect ass. She knew it was forward, but hell, for every success there was bound to be a few rejections.
“Yes. Oh… yes, please,” Billi whined, lacing her fingers with Katie’s and leaning in to press a sloppy yet enthusiastic kiss to her lips. Katie moaned against her, losing herself in the kiss. It was almost as if she could forget the drama of the day. “Your hand is so soft. Why do you wear those gloves?” Billi inquired, pulling her from her thoughts. Katie’s eyes widened, and she quickly pulled her hand away. The crash in the back of the club seemed to indicate that she was too late. The workers in the kitchen came flooding out, some looking queasy, others looking as if they would faint. Katie slipped her glove on, grabbing Billi by the arm and following the crowd rushing out of the club. She could hear the murmurs, some cruder than others. The general consensus was that one of the cooks had ‘stuffed his cock’ with a cooking skewer. Katie cringed at the thought, the arousal brewing in her loins ebbing just a bit.
“I should… I should probably be getting home,” Billi muttered, glancing in the direction of the club with a queasy look of her own. She hesitated, turning back to Katie with a small smile. “I’m sorry. I’ll see you next time, maybe? I’ll hold you to your offer,” the younger woman murmured, leaning in to give Katie a far too sweet kiss. Just as quickly as it had started, it was over, and Billi was catching up to her friends. Katie stared after her, internally cursing her foul luck. Seemed her gift was both a blessing and a curse. Though, truth be told, she’d known that for a long time now. She exhaled slowly, ambling in the direction of her apartment. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she answered it with little thought.
“What up?” She said, popping the p. She was answered by an awkward clearing of the throat, and a vaguely familiar voice began to speak.
“Hello, Kate? Kate Brickmore? God, I hope I don’t have the wrong number again.” Wendy muttered, and Katie could hear the steady clacking of her keyboard keys.
“Oh, sorry, Miss Walsh. Yes, this is Katie—Kate. This is Kate,” she fumbled, walking in the direction of her apartment on instinct alone. “How can I, uh, help you?” Kate added after a moment of confusion. Wendy continued to mutter to herself for a moment, something about the stock trade, and Katie rolled her eyes. Why had the other woman even called her? “Wendy?” she inquired, wishing she could swallow back the name as soon as she spoke. God, who did she think she was, speaking on a first name basis with one of the hotel’s most prestigious customers. If Wendy Walsh reported her, she’d be dead meat.
“Oh yes, sorry. Miss Brickmore, I wanted to apologize for seeming as if I was blowing you off, earlier this afternoon. I have a desk full of work I have to complete… but, that’s beside the point. I wanted to know if you were interested in having lunch with me tomorrow. My treat,” Wendy rambled, the clacking of the keys pausing for half a second before continuing. Katie hesitated, stepping into the lobby of her apartment complex and heading for the elevators. Thank god busty blonde was nowhere to be seen.
“You don’t have to do that Wend—Miss Walsh,” she said carefully, stepping into the elevator as it arrived on the ground floor.
“Well, it has come to my attention, through engaging in business at your workplace, that the help likely isn’t paid enough to enjoy dining at work very often. Consider this an olive branch…” She paused, muttering under her breath some words Katie couldn’t hear. She swore, cleared her throat, and spoke again. “I implore you to consider my offer,” she said, sounding altogether too serious for a simple lunch date.
“Ok. Will do. I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Walsh,” Katie said awkwardly, unsure if she should be offended by the oth
er woman’s flagrant disregard for the people she considered ‘the help’. She hesitated when the clacking of the keyboard continued, listening and waiting for the other woman to hang up.
“Wendy. Call me Wendy. Miss Walsh makes me feel awfully old,” she said abruptly, then, the phone clicked, indicating she had hung up. Katie stared at her phone for a long moment, feeling utterly conflicted. The elevator dinged cheerfully, indicating she was on the correct floor, and she stepped out. She wondered if Jackie had dragged herself home yet, really needing someone to lend an ear. She unlocked her apartment door, stepping inside and cringing at the loud sounds of moaning coming from Jackie’s room. Well, there went the idea of a sympathetic ear. She sighed softly, careful not to make too much noise as she passed her roommate's room. It was a welcome relief to sink into the plush, pillow top mattress, and she closed her eyes, draping her arm over them to block out any light. She briefly considered changing into her pajamas, but quickly dismissed the thought as images of beautiful blondes filled her head and she fell into a peaceful slumber.
Katie rubbed her eyes wearily as her alarm sounded, and she kicked her legs over the side of the bed, fumbling around for her phone in order to dismiss the alarm. She had set it early in order to have some time to do research on her lunch date. She felt somewhat creepy web searching patrons of the hotel, truth be told, but this wasn’t your everyday situation. She propped her chin up in her hand, scanning over the first article that popped up on the search engine.
“Wendy Walsh, Heir to Walsh Fortune, Divorced at Nineteen” she muttered, reading the title aloud. She didn’t know what she expected, but she certainly didn’t expect this. Seems Wendy had started young, and had only stuck it out through the rocky marriage for three months before divorcing her then husband. Katie snorted, picturing the stiff and proper woman in a sexless marriage with some pot-bellied billionaire’s son. She continued to browse through the many articles. They all described Wendy as a devoted daughter, and a business woman first and foremost. Katie yawned, clicking over to the image search function. Among the dozens of well-planned photo opportunities there seemed to be a few photo manipulations of Wendy’s head on some too-pale woman’s nude body. Wendy bore the same expression in every photo: an obviously forced smile, eyes fixed straight ahead and hair brushed just so. She was pictured with dozens of silver spoon-fed rich boys, models, even the occasional actor. Straight. Completely, utterly straight. Instead of dissuading Katie, it only seemed to light a fire in her loins as she glanced over the poorly made photo manipulations. She knew that the images likely didn’t do the professional woman justice, the breasts too small, the hips too narrow. Pushing away from her computer desk, Katie slipped out of her room to get a shower before work. She smelled like old sweat, and she regretted not having showered the night before. As she walked through the apartment, she could hear Jackie’s uproarious laughter from their living area, and she peeked in to see some scrawny, white man with glasses seated on that sofa she hated so much. Jackie herself seemed to be in her element, all but draped over the man’s lap, telling stories about her job. Katie made a face, sneaking into the bathroom before she was caught eavesdropping. She wasn’t particularly worried about getting in trouble. She was more worried about being forced to sit and listen to a dozen of Jackie’s boring work stories. How interesting could working at a call center be?
Katie sighed, dismissing these thoughts as she stripped of her sweat-stained clothes from the night before. She tossed them in the clothes' hamper, silently praying that Jackie would do their laundry for once. She hesitated before stepping in the shower, looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She grabbed a pair of tweezers, plucking a few stray hairs from her brow and then grabbed her face wash to take into the shower with her. Recovering from last night would require a deep cleansing. She turned the water on, stepping into the shower while it was still cold and shivered before going about the process of washing her face. The water gradually warmed, and she rinsed, repeated, before setting the facial cleanser in one of the shower cubbies and grabbing her loofa. She cringed as her fingers brushed Jackie’s favorite loofa. She had told the other woman repeatedly that the damn things needed to be replaced every so often. Sighing, in what she would have admitted to being a somewhat melodramatic show, she grabbed her apple scented body wash, lathering up her loofa before beginning the tedious process of shaving and washing her legs. As she brought the loofa up her legs, she shuddered involuntarily, thoughts drifting to the woman she would be having lunch with. She examined herself for a moment, deciding it would be in good taste to make sure she was completely groomed. She liked to be smooth, as it tended to be her partner’s preference, as well as her own. Once she was finished shaving, she sighed, leaning against the back wall of the shower to slip her hand between her legs. She valued herself as being rather beautiful, knowing appearances were everything in her line of work. She also valued her stamina, though on this particular morning she just wanted to release some pent up stress. She made quick work of gently parting her outer lips, rubbing a finger along the length of her slit before pressing a finger into herself, rubbing herself until the intruding digit was coated with her own slick. It made it all the easier to rub her throbbing clit in quick, sweeping motions. The moisture that had gathered between her legs made it almost too easy. However, it was difficult to get enough friction. She drew her lip between her teeth, jerking her hips lewdly against her hand and cried out as she came. She stood beneath the stream of water, allowing the evidence of her personal encounter to be washed away before she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself and snuck back to her room.
If the laughter she heard in the living area was any indication, Jackie was still absorbed in entertaining her houseguest. She dried herself off thoroughly, pulling her hair into a ponytail once it was just damp, knowing it would be some time before it was dry enough for her to properly style. Finally, deciding that being personable was the polite thing to do, she pulled on her house clothes.. If Jackie really liked this guy, which she seemed to, she would likely be seeing her share of the man around the apartment. She threw her bedroom door open with a flourish, loudly enough to announce that she was, indeed, awake and present in the apartment. As she strode through the house she stopped to grab a mug of coffee. Thank god Jackie prepared it every morning. She leaned against the counter that separated the dining area from the living area, quirking a brow at Jackie who blushed in return. She was one hundred percent certain she had never seen Jackie blush before so she internally vowed to be on her best behavior with this particular fling.
“Hello. Looks like you two are having fun,” Katie said cheerfully. The man turned to face her, waving his free hand—his other hand was grasped in Jackie’s own.
“Kate, right? Jackie’s told me so much about you.” He smiled, giving Jackie’s hand a squeeze.
“Just call me Katie. You look really familiar…” Katie hummed, recognition dawning upon her now that she was close enough to make out the man’s features. He was one of the regulars at the hotel, and if she remembered correctly, his specific kink was aliens. Strange, though she tried really hard not to imagine the foreplay the two likely engaged in. She was pro-roleplaying but the thought of Jackie playing some intergalactic princess set her off in a fit of giggles.
“Oh, uhm,” the man hesitated, glancing from Jackie to Katie. “I tend to arrange most of my business meetings at the hotel you work at. I almost didn’t recognize you at first,” he said awkwardly, offering her a small smile. She smiled in return, touching her hair with a look of distaste.
“Yeah, I don’t leave the house without doing my hair,” she offered and he shook his head, holding up his hands as if to placate her.
“Oh, I didn’t mean—“ he started, swiftly interrupted by Jackie.
“He means you look dead sexy with that ponytail thing going on.” She smirked. The man began to sweat and Katie slowly raised a brow, touching a hand to her hair once more. She nodded, smil
ing to herself as she turned and strode back to her room.
“I’ll keep that in mind!” she called back, before going about the task of fixing her hair. It needed work, of course, but the ponytail did accentuate her cheekbones—one of her most flattering features. She was certain that straight, sour and prudish Wendy Walsh wouldn’t know what hit her. She took nearly half an hour to make sure her hair was just-so, then opened her wardrobe to grab her best suit. She got dressed quickly, checking her outfit for wrinkles, and flattening several imaginary ones. Moments later, her second alarm sounded, and she grabbed her phone, dismissing the notification before strutting through the house, turning in a circle in front of Jackie and shooting the new couple a smile. “What do you think?” She grinned.
“You look fabulous, girl. Whose pants are you trying to get into?” Jackie laughed, while her new beau reddened dramatically. Katie laughed as well, winking in the man’s direction before heading to the door.
“I’ll let you know once I’ve bagged her. This might be a tricky one,” Katie called as she stepped out the door, slamming it shut behind her and walking to the elevators with an obvious skip in her step. She pressed the down button, bouncing on her heels as she waited for the elevator to reach her floor.
“Why haven’t you called me!?” a voice demanded abruptly, and Katie cringed before turning to face the woman she had mentally dubbed ‘Busty B’. She cleared her throat, shrugging apologetically.