Willing

Willing 7

Willing, Ch. 7

By Lisa Summers

"Hey, wake up honey, it's time to go," I gently nudged Virginia. As my pregnant, lesbian lover, I naturally wanted her to experience a gentle awakening on her first day as my 'trucker helper'. As you know (if you've read the previous chapters), everything that happened previously on the truck, occurred before we discovered that we were in love with each other.

"Huh," she mumbled. "What?" She stirred in the crumpled bed sheets, her body warm next to mine.

"It's time to hit the road, sweetheart," I said, sitting up in bed next to her delightfully naked body. "You remember, we talked about it." My fingers toyed with her wavy, brown hair.

"But, it's so dark" she pleaded.

"Well, yeah....it's 2 AM," I said. "We've got a ten hour trip to Atlanta, and I want to miss the morning traffic here in Fort Smith, and the PM traffic in Atlanta." I hesitated. "You could stay here, if you'd like, this house is as much yours as it is mine as far as that goes." I hoped she'd say no. I didn't want to be separated from her, not even for a few minutes.

"No...no, I don't want to be away from you. And, my parents know I'm coming, and I don't want to disappoint them. I'm happy that you decided to rescue me, though, or I'd be forced to stay with them..." Virginia smiled a sleepy smile at me, and I kissed her warm, sweet lips.

"Okay," I said. "That's the choice I hoped you'd make, I don't want to be away from you, either...but it's business time now. So, let's shower." I gently patted her naked bottom as she was rising from the bed, and she wriggled it at me. Oh, how I wanted to pull her back into bed and make love to her, to hold her in my arms and never let her go. But, that don't butter the parsnips, as some writer from my high school English class said in some story.

We both stood in the hot water of the shower for a minute, clearing the cobwebs, then began soaping each other.

"Oooh," Virginia hissed, as she traced the purple bruises on my breast and under my ribs. "Does that hurt?" she said.

"Well, yeah, but probably not as much as your ex's leg, and pretty soon, his ass hole, feel," I said. He'd been shot after trying to get at Virginia to do something violent.

Virginia gave out a short laugh. "I'm sure his ass hole's gonna feel VERY sore over the next 30 years or so in - what did the deputy say?- oh, the Cummins Unit," (that being the Arkansas State Prison where he was likely to spend a deservedly long stretch for a lot of bad things he did, and for one bad thing he didn't actually do, that our sweet, elderly neighbor had framed him over.)

We were both rapidly coming awake, so we finished up our shower. I will admit that we did a little kissing and caressing during the shower, but nothing that would make either one of us cum. I try to be as professional as I can reasonably be, and I had to adhere to my schedule again, to get my load to a bunch of 'Starving Artists Sales' throughout North Carolina. We just didn't have enough time for fucking that morning, but I hoped that we would once we were in Atlanta for our layover.

We had packed our stuff the night before, and returned my two dogs and cat to Miz Smith, our neighbor, for safekeeping, so it was simply a matter of getting dressed and eating breakfast, and hitting the road.

Virginia had turned out to be an excellent cook, and she made a good, hearty trucker's breakfast of ham, eggs, hash browns, and lots and lots of coffee that I scarfed down. She ate too, but not very much.

"Feeling okay, babe?" I asked her, as she pushed a piece of potato around the plate.

"A little queasy," she said, but smiled anyway.

A light bulb went off in my head. "Your pregnancy..." I said.

"Yeah, I think so," she said.

"I'm sorry....is there anything I can do?" I asked. Just because I'm a woman, doesn't mean I always know what to do about every women's issue. She smiled - how I LOVE her smile

"Just be sweet to me, okay? And keep a trash can around....oops" she exclaimed, heading for the downstairs bathroom. I pretended not to hear anything.

When she came out, I said, "If you want to stay home, it's okay, really. And I can stop at your parents' and explain things to them..."

She smiled, her brown eyes warm with love. "That sounds really nice, darling, calling this 'home,' and it really is now, for me, but I want to spend more time with YOU, and get to know you better. Besides, I should be fine in a couple of hours, plus I'm pretty sure I'd better be there to introduce my lesbian girlfriend to my ex-Marine dad."

"Former Marine," I corrected her. "There ARE no 'ex-Marines.'" I grinned at her.

"Then you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about," she said.

"Okay....hey, I'll get the dishes done while you finish getting ready, okay?" I said. It doesn't do to leave dirty dishes around for a couple of days unless you like having all kinds of bugs around

We finally got going, right around 2:45, and Virginia actually dozed off in the sleeper after a while, then rejoined me later in the morning, just in time to stop at a Burger King for lunch at a truck stop along Rte 78, west of Birmingham, Alabama.

"Gosh, I'm famished," she said, a whole lot more awake this time, and with a lovely glow about her. I pulled the truck into a pull through slot.

As I set the brakes, I looked at her and said, "You know something? I think you're starting to get that 'mother-to-be' glow." I grinned at her. She looked like a work of art to me. Once in high school art class, we'd seen a series of paintings about 'Madonna and Child.' Without meaning to sound sacrilegious, Virginia had a lot of that Madonna in her - and I DON'T mean the one who was lucky enough to kiss Britney Spears

"Do you think so?" she said, beaming. "I kind of feel like, well, like I have a purpose now. Like WE have a purpose. Y'know?"

"Yeah, I think I do," I said. I leaned over and kissed her as she was perched in the passenger's seat. She kissed me back warmly.

"I love you," she said, her brown eyes soft and beautiful, a wisp of her hair partially over her forehead and one eye. I reached over and brushed it from over her eye.

"I love you, too," I said. "And little Virginia...or whatever." She looked confused, then giggled.

"Oh, the baby....at first I thought you were talking about my pussy"

"I think only guys name their thing 'Little' whatever," I chuckled. "And don't get me started on thinking about your body until we get to Atlanta. Normally I'd overnight in the sleeper on that part of the trip, but how about we get a motel room - and maybe go out somewhere? It's just for the required layover, and we'll get into Greensboro first thing tomorrow. That way we can have a nice, romantic night on the road."

Virginia nodded, and we got down from the cab and walked to the BK. We both decided to have salads, hers was with the grilled chicken, mine with fried. As we were eating and talking, to my surprise, I saw one of my brother drivers from Arcturus walk in. "Hey, look, it's Sam Watson," I said to Virginia. "I'm gonna call him over."

"Hey, Sam," I said loudly. He looked over to see who was calling his name.

"Linda" he exclaimed. He came over and eyed Virginia. As I said in the first part of my story, the boys know I'm a lesbian, but they're also smart enough to know that not every woman sitting next to me is automatically gonna be one, too.

"Virginia, this is Sam Watson, another driver at Arcturus," I said. "And Sam, this is Virginia, my girlfriend." His eyes brightened, I think for two reasons. One, he was happy for me, knowing that my love life hadn't exactly been busy over the last couple of years. Second, and more important, guys always seem to like looking at lesbians that are cute. I dunno why, lol.

"Pleased to meetcha," he said, taking her hand. Virginia returned his greeting.

"Hey, get your food and sit with us, okay?" I said. He nodded and went off to order. A few minutes later he came back with a tray holding two double Whoppers, a really large order of fries, a large chocolate milkshake and a small soda. He caught Virginia and I looking at his food.

"What?" he said defensively. We both looked at him, then his awesome pile of food, then back at him.

"Hey, I'm hungry," he said. "Besides, this is a diet Coke," he pointed at the cup. "And it's a small. Don't want to overdo things." Virginia looked at me in disbelief, her eyebrows raised.

"Hey Sam, have you seen the advertisements for that new gizmo that slows your truck down to a stop if you have a massive heart attack while you're driving?" I said with a straight face.

Sam looked at me, unaware. "No, where do you get it? How much does it go for?" he asked, as Virginia began giggling uncontrollably.

"Hey, is she okay?" he asked, looking at Virginia.

"I'm sorry," Virginia coughed out. "Something went down the wrong pipe."

"You be careful, young lady," Sam advised her gravely. "Eating can be very hazardous."

Virginia started laughing again, and covered up, getting up and choking out, 'Scuse me...gotta go to bathroom..." giggling the whole way. Sam, ever polite, halfway got up from his seat.

"I hope she'll be okay," Sam said, sitting back down.

"Yeah, I think she'll be okay," I said. Sam looked at me and then started grinning.

"Your GIRLFRIEND" he exclaimed. "You did REAL well for yourself, Linda. She's a REAL looker. And she seems like a nice girl."

"Thanks, Sam," I said. "There's a story to go with it, maybe I'll tell you about it sometime." I paused. "You know me, Sam, I haven't exactly been burning up the bed sheets lately..."

"Lately?" he snorted. "Linda, I've known you for eight years, and I can count the number of real girlfriends you've had in that time on my old hunting dog's right front paw...and he ain't got one" He slapped the table to emphasize his point, and his heap of fries collapsed, probably in fear.

"Well, anyway, what I wanted to say, Sam, is....I think she's the one." He looked confused, then he understood.

"This is your One True Love, Linda? Well, congratulations," he said. "I guess it was never fair that you escaped the torture us married men have to go through," he teased. "No, seriously, that's great news."

"Thanks," I said. "But I've been thinking, in the back of my mind, as soon as I realized Virginia was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, that being a trucker, at least a long haul trucker, was gonna create some problems. How do you handle it, with a wife and kids?" I asked him.

"Honestly?" he asked. I nodded.

He paused, then shook his head in disgust. "It's hell."

I had never before seen the expression of sadness that passed over Sam's face.

"I've been married twenty five years, got three fine kids, and I don't know any of them OR my wife. We tried having her come along with me on these trips, it didn't work, you can't build a life on a truck. And I COULD have cheated on her, you know how it is, but that wouldn't feed my hunger for real companionship. And besides, that's not the kind of person I am, or want to be." He paused again.

"Truth to tell, Linda, if you want to have a life with this woman, get out of the long haul business, I can't say it any plainer and up front than that."

His words depressed the hell out of me. Long haul trucking was pretty much all I knew. But I DID want a life with Virginia....and little Virginia. And I still don't mean her pussy.

"But hey, I didn't come over here to bring you down, honey," he said. "I came here to EAT." And Sam then tucked into that meal, and I could see it didn't stand a chance against HIM. Just then, Virginia came back from the ladies room.

"Hey hon," I said. "Everything okay?" I was wondering if she'd had another bout of morning sickness.

"Oh sure," she said. "So, what are you two talking about?" I looked at Sam, but he was busy inhaling half of a Double Whopper.

"Ahh, just the same old road stuff. Nothing important." Virginia snuggled next to me, and we finished our salads. We all finished our meals, and got ready to leave.

As we were walking out, Sam said, "By the way, Linda, Alex Arneson at Betelgeuse Trucking is opening up a division for truck rentals. It's supposed to compete with U-Haul, but for commercial use vehicles, not mom and pop rentals. He needs a general manager, and is looking for someone experienced with commercial trucking. It sounds like it would be perfect for you." He looked me in the eyes - I could see the conflict there.

"I thought you should know, what with your situation," he finished. Alex Arneson was a long time competitor to Arcturus, based in the South, unlike Arcturus, which was based in Los Angeles. He was always on the lookout to steal people from Arcturus, usually by waving a lot more money at them. I looked at Sam.

"Thanks, Sam," I said, patting his solid shoulder. He smiled, a little sadly I thought, waved and walked away.

"What did he mean by telling you that?" Virginia asked.

"I think he gave me something that was very valuable to him. When he said that job would be perfect for me....that meant it was perfect for him, too. He just...handed it to me." I was troubled by the information Sam had given me. I didn't know what to do.

I explained to Virginia about my prior conversation with Sam, and what the information could mean to one of us. She looked anguished. "Oh, man, Linda, I would want that so much for you, but then that would mean it was for me, too, and against your friend......being grown up is tough."

"Yeah," I said. I sighed. "Why don't we get our asses to Atlanta, and see how things go."

We walked back to the truck. I refilled our fuel tanks, then we headed up I-20 towards Atlanta. We had about a two and a half hour segment, and I figure we'd get to our motel by three PM, just missing the buildup of commuter traffic. Atlanta's probably the city I hate dealing with most because of its traffic, but that's made up for by its many gay and lesbian clubs. It's one of the most progressive cities I've run across for gay social life, and I did appreciate that.

I thought we'd go to Outwrite Bookstore and Coffee House in midtown Atlanta for dinner, rather than one of the bars or clubs. Virginia couldn't drink anyway, so bars lost a lot of their attraction, and neither of us obviously was looking to meet a hookup, plus we were leaving at two AM that night, to get to my first stop in Greensboro by eight AM. Virginia found us a Comfort Inn on I-20 in East Atlanta. It would cost us a bit to taxi to Outwrite, but that was easier than trying to find a clean motel with truck parking inside the metro Atlanta area. Being on the east side, we could get out of Atlanta without running into an unexpected late night accident causing traffic blockage.

Traffic was unexpectedly light in the Atlanta Metro area. I pulled in to the Comfort Inn's parking lot, found a satisfactory spot, then secured us a room. "Oh, this is nice" Virginia exclaimed when we put our stuff in the room. "This is like our honeymoon cottage."

I was overcome with emotion on hearing her say that. "Oh, Virginia, I love you SO much," I whispered, as I took her in my arms. "You don't know what you mean to my life," I said, my eyes tearing up.

"I know, baby...I know," she said, patting my back as I engulfed her in my arms. I never wanted to let her go.

But then I did let her go. If this was like a honeymoon cottage, we'd damn well better treat it like one

I slipped out of her arms, and put my hands on the brown leather belt at her waist.

"Mmmm, what are you doing?" Virginia giggled, though she made no effort to stop me.

"Unbuckling your belt," I murmured. My fingers felt clumsy in my haste.

"Why?" she asked, although I think she knew very well.

"So I can get your jeans off," I muttered as I pulled the belt end out of the buckle.

"Why would you want to get my jeans off?" she asked, teasingly.

"So you don't have anything between me and your pussy," I replied.

"Why would you want that?" she asked, as I unbuttoned her jeans and dropped them to the floor.

"Because I want to lick your sweet little cunny," I said, pulling her white cotton panties off her hips, taking them off each foot, and then throwing them in a corner.

"Why on earth would you want to do that?" Virginia whispered, wriggling her sweet ass and bare hips.

"Because you tell me it feels nice," I said, pushing her back on the bed. I noticed that her slim legs managed to spread a little wider when she got herself settled on the bed.

"Why would I think it feels nice?" she teased, a slightly more anxious edge to her teasing.

"Because you like feeling my rough tongue rub over your wet pussy lips, and fuck into your hot pussy, and scrape over your little pink pearl," I said, then got down to business.

"Why would I - ohhhhhhh," she said, then stopped using real words.

I lay on my stomach, my face at her sweet little hole, tonguing along her swelling, hot labia, sniffing the hot, sweet, musky smell of her slit, which was visibly moistening as her excitement grew. Virginia groaned, her hands in my hair, her hips thrashing as I moved on to slipping my tongue inside her glistening slit, a dark pink vertical opening between her legs.

"Unnngh," she said, as I fucked into her hot hole just a few times, then inched myself forward until my lips were above her light pink clit, erect and exposed. As she continued her running commentary, I fastened my lips around her little knob, squeezed on it, and then rasped my tongue over her clit, and she erupted with an orgasm that was both loud and active.

"Ohh god yeah baby lick my pussy so sweet that's it yeah lick my wet hole ooooh deeper deeper fuck ohhh FUCK inside me now oh deeper please god oh do me harder harder oh oh my clit's so wet and hard and ready put your mouth on her god yeah yeah YEAH ohmigod yes yes YESSS fuck me so goooooood"

You see, Virginia and I had discovered that fucking each other all night long was a good thing, and that we were pretty good at it, but all night long fucking didn't mesh well with getting up early. So, we'd decided to make each other cum quickly, sort of to take the edge off, and take our time making love whenever we got the chance.

So after Virginia came, I let her catch her breath as I snuggled with her, then we kissed. "Mmm, I like your perfume, sweetie," she said, as her lips and tongue strayed from my mouth to my cum-wet cheeks and chin.

"Thanks, it's organic, and locally grown," I mumbled back, anxious to feel her hot lips on mine, and then her mouth on my own hungry pussy. It had been too, too long since we'd been getting busy making love, and while Virginia had at least one cum, I hadn't cum on her in some time. I quickly unbuttoned and pulled off her red check cotton blouse, my mouth watering at her perfectly shaped breasts and her erect nipples.

Then I lay on my back, and quickly unbuckled my own belt and shimmied off my jeans, as Virginia lay on her side grinning at me. "Whatcha lookin' at, Ace?" I growled.

"Oh, I just LOVE a butch dyke," she said in a little girl voice. I pulled down my panties, then sat up, and pulled off my golf shirt, so that I was fully naked too. Virginia jumped on me, and began kissing my breasts, then taking my nipples in her mouth, and softly sucking on them.

"Ahhh," I moaned. "That feels really nice." Virginia used a nice mixture of soft kisses and little nips with her teeth to make my nipples so hard that they nearly hurt. I massaged and caressed her upper back, warm and smooth, as she pleasured my breasts.

Finally, though, I growled, "Now it's MY turn to cum, bitch" and rolled her onto her back. Sitting up, I straddled her warm, feminine body, my thighs on either side of her breast, and moved myself up so that my pussy was at her face. "Lick it, bitch" I ordered her.

"Oh, no, please, I've never..." she protested, getting into the swing of things. "Not with a woman"

"Eat my wet hole, cunt I'm gonna make you LOVE being fucked by a woman" I pressed my slit against her mouth. "I'm gonna make you BEG to have a woman fucking your mouth, and your sweet little pussy, so hot and moist...and your tight little brown hole..."

"Oh god, please, no, I'm a good girl," she pleaded. "Don't make me kiss your vagina, I've never even seen another woman's private parts...it's too much" I ran my forefinger down my wet slit, covering it in my cream, then brought it to her nose. She tried to turn away, but I had her pinned.

"Oh, the smell," she said. "It's so strange to smell another woman....her pussy...so different..."

I slipped my wet finger between her lips. "Oh, the taste....your vagina is so wet...so hot...oh, it tastes...oh god, it tastes so nice You're forcing me to taste your pussy...no, it's wrong, you're trying to turn me into a lesbian...make me want to eat women's hot, wet cunts..."

"Eat it, you little slut, eat my hole," I growled.

"Oh, you're forcing me to lick your pussy, your hot cunt, licking your fat pussy lips, your wet, hot hole, your stiff and hard clit, ohh..." I began rocking into her face, and Virginia began attacking my mons with her lips and tongue expertly, licking up my cream and teasing my sensitive flesh with her sweet tongue, building my anticipation to climax.

"Aah, fuck, you're making me so hot, baby. Lick my hole....yeah, that's it....ohh, my clit, ohh squeeze it....yeah.....aaagh, my clit, I'm cumming....FUCK, I'm cumming sweetheart Fuckkkkkk" I spasmed, my thighs reflexively trying to squeeze shut on her head. I held them open, and Virginia slowed her oral contact on my pussy, knowing that I would be sensitive after cumming on her. I slumped after the release of tension, then crawled off her sweet body, and lay next to her, cuddling, loving the feel of her warm body next to mine. We kissed and just snuggled, then both fell asleep.

We napped for about two hours, warm in each other's arms. We awoke, still in each other's arms, still warm and comfy. "Hi baby," I murmured to her, as I watched her eyes flutter open.

"Mmmm, hi sweetie," she said. "What time is it?"

"Umm, about five, I think," I said, turning to look at the bedside clock. "Yeah."

"Guess we better get going, huh?" she said.

"Yeah, okay," I said. "Let me freshen up, though. I've got your cum all over my face." Virginia giggled.

"Yeah, me too. I like it," she said.

"Maybe so, but still....if you walk into a lesbian coffee house smelling like that, they'll ALL want a piece of you."

"Would that be SO bad?" Virginia mused. "Having two or three women on me?" She grinned at me.

"More like fifteen or twenty," I said. "And some of them might be overweight. You might get crushed."

"I hadn't thought of that," Virginia conceded.

"That's why you have me around," I said. "I can keep the riff raff off you." I sat up, then headed to the vanity sink. Virginia got up as I was bent over, splashing my face. I felt her hands on my bare ass.

"You've got a nice ass," she observed. "Maybe I should kiss it....or something." Her finger slipped between my cheeks. I was SO tempted to let her continue.

"Heh, I'd like that, but later, okay? Or else we'll never get our night out on the town."

"Spoilsport," she pouted. I grinned at her.

"Look, the chances of a chick as hot looking as you getting through the night without getting fucked by some random lezzie, are pretty damned slim. So just be patient." She chuckled.

"I'll hold you to that."

"Okey-dokey," I said, as I grabbed a small towel, wet it with hot water, then towel bathed myself. Then I wet another one and threw it to her. "Your turn, sweetie."

I watched as she also dabbed at herself. I just shook my head. How did I end up with a chick as beautiful as Virginia?

"What are you wearing tonight?" I asked her.

"Um, this place is pretty casual, right?" she asked, looking a little apprehensive.

"Oh, god yeah," I said. "Jeans, shorts, skirt, dress, mink stole, tuxedo, whatever, is fine there."

"I think you'd look GREAT in a tux," she said, rubbing up against me. "Sexy, and butch, and dykey.....and kinda feminine, too." She kissed my cheek.

"Think my tan skirt and white blouse'll be okay?" she asked. "It's pretty much all I have for dress up until I get to my parents, and until I get settled with you. Everything I have otherwise is back in Bullhead City, and there's not really enough there to go back for, at least immediately." I nodded.

"Yeah, you'll look great," I said. "I'm wearing jeans and a golf shirt."

"A change from your usual golf shirt and jeans, huh?"

"I wanted to do something different," I said. Virginia nodded.

"It's daring, but I think you could carry it off. And on the bright side, it's not flannel." Virginia called for a taxi, and five minutes later it appeared. The driver took us across town to Outwrite in record time (especially for being around rush hour), and Virginia looked at the place skeptically. It's in a strip mall.

"All the goodness is inside," I said. "Like me."

"Well then, it's probably absolutely outstanding," Virginia said, and took my hand in hers. We entered, and found ourselves a seat in a booth, after walking past and through the diverse collection of books.

"Hey, this place is nice,"Virginia said, looking around. "And it's for gays and lesbians?"

"It's frequented by gays and lesbians, and it's certainly got a lot more works by gays and lesbians than most bookstores, but it's for anybody and everybody," I said. And there were plenty of obviously straight couples, as well as men together and women together, whatever their orientation. Plus the usual scattering of singles found in every bookstore.

Virginia and I ordered, soup and a sandwich for me, and a salad and sandwich for her, and both of us got iced tea, sweet of course. As we were eating, I noticed a nice looking blonde, about my age, walk in with a woman maybe twenty years older, and thought to myself, 'there's Virginia and I in around twenty years'. Except maybe we'd have a teenaged boy or girl with us, complaining about something. It gave me warm feeling, and I could only hope it came through.

The female couple sat down in the booth behind us. They were engrossed in conversation, and it was almost impossible for both of us not to hear what they were saying.

Blonde: "So, this is how it went down."

Older woman: "Okay, let me hear it."

Blonde: "I was on vacation on the island of St. Martin. I had planned on it being a trip with my boyfriend, a nice, restful fuck fest - we're both usually so occupied with our separate businesses, that making love at home is impossible. On vacation, it's the goal, right?

Anyway, that was before I found out about his two girlfriends on the side. When I confronted him, you know what he said? "Would you be interested in a threesome?"

Can you imagine that? As IF I would want to do it with another woman and him. I told him to take his dick and shove it up his own ass, and shove his two floozies there, too. Then I canceled his ticket, kept my own and the reservation at La Samanna Resort and went on my own. If need be, I could find a cabana boy or something to keep me occupied, and, if not, I could just relax, far away from grasping, grubby white collar Wall Street ass holes.

The beach there, Long Bay, has a reputation as a 'quiet and romantic' beach. Well, that would have been great if I had a boyfriend to be romantic with. The problem with 'quiet and romantic' beaches, is that there's nothing else to do there. That's why they're quiet and romantic.

So I just had to make the best of things, and enjoy the sun, surf and food. I had the sweetest room with a lovely ocean view, and a wide balcony. I had great plans to sit out there, and watch the sunset while I enjoyed some of the fine French wines available on the island. Mornings I planned on starting with breakfast at the restaurant on the veranda. I was a little disappointed when I got to breakfast at about 8 AM, to find about half the tables filled with couples only...so I'd be the wheel without a bicycle. Ehh, but I was determined to take this vacation however it came, and enjoy myself.

There was a wonderful selection of tropical fruits, so I ordered the fruit plate, yogurt, orange juice, and coffee. As I was waiting for my selection, a rather attractive young woman came in, and looked around, She saw me sitting alone, and smiled graciously but noncommitally at me, then chose a table near mine.

The waitress took her order, and it occurred to me that I could start my vacation by meeting someone who wasn't already tied up with another conversation partner. "Excuse me," I said.

She looked up, quizzically. "Do you speak English?" I asked.

She smiled. "Yes, mais oui."

"Are you dining alone, by any chance?"

"Yes, unfortunately," she said, looking around at the couples engrossed in each other.

"Would you care to dine with me?" I asked, feeling especially forward.

"I would be very pleased," she said, and got up and came to my table. She took my hand in hers, and we shook briefly.

"Gabrielle Delacroix," she said. "It is mine the pleasure."

"Susanne Marler," I replied. "Pleased to meet you."

She seated herself opposite me, and smiled. "Now comes the difficult, the ice crusher, no?"

I laughed. "Do you mean, 'the ice breaker'? Yes, sometimes that is the hard part. How about I start?" Gabrielle nodded, her smile lingering at her mouth, but quite alive in her green eyes. Her hair was long, and blonde, fine like cornsilk. If I hadn't heard her accent, I could have thought her a California surfer girl. She looked about twenty-five.

I told her my story - that I was a stockbroker from New York City, that my boyfriend had managed to mess up our vacation, and that I was just looking to have some fun. She could see that I was a bit older, as I'm thirty-five, and my brown hair and brown eyes were equally obvious.

"Yes," she said. "I work for the government of the French Republic, in Paris."

"Oh, what do you do?" I asked.

"Well, I am only a manager in my agence_, it is called_ Direction générale de la concurrence, de la consommation et de la répression des fraudes_, it is something like your American Consumer Product Safety Commission, with whom we have much intercourse, as many fraudulent activities begin in one country but end in another."_

"My lover too was unable to come now, but will join me later in the week. But we are both free to do as we like, we are French, no?"

"Really?" I said.

"I am pulling your foot, your leg, I mean," she said, laughing. "Americans have opinions of the French, no?"

"No, I mean, yes," I said, smiling at her wit. "Yes, we certainly do."

"Well, often it is deserved," she sighed. She hesitated. "Would you perhaps be interested in us, in you and I, being together today to have some fun? There do not appear to be many others to join us..." she gestured to the couples around us.

"I think I'd like that," I said. "Although, I wasn't planning on doing all that much today. It's my first day here, and I thought I'd spend it on the beach."

"Excellent" she said. "If you would allow me to join you, it would be very pleasing." Odd construction, but I got her point. We made our plans to return to our rooms and change after breakfast, then meet at the gate to the beach entrance.

Gabrielle was quite charming and intelligent, and her English was far better than my French would ever be She was attractive, not a raving beauty, but quite lovely, and very feminine. I felt comfortable with her, and speculated that it was probably better there was no man here, at least for us today, as I am very competitive. I suppose that's my nature, it certainly reflects in my work.

I found her mannerisms charming, and felt attracted to her as someone I wanted to spend some time with, someone I wanted to know better. We both finished our excellent breakfast, and as we parted, agreeing to meet later, she put her hand on my arm, then leaned in and kissed me, lingeringly, on my cheek.

I felt a tingle there, where her lips touched me, and smiled at her. Our eyes locked for a few seconds, and she whispered, "I will count the minutes until we meet again, cherie."

I felt dazzled by her. She was so different than the other women I ran into in Manhattan, so business-like, and frankly, trying so hard to be masculine. Gabrielle was quite the reverse, dazzlingly feminine.

I returned to my room, and caught up with a few work-related things on my laptop - yes, even on a pleasure trip I felt the need to at least stay connected with work - then tried to decide on what I would wear. A bathing suit, obviously, but which? I decided to stay somewhat modest, and chose my Burberry Check bikini in blue, to show off my nice, but not overwhelmingly beautiful, body.

Modestly-sized breasts, hips that I think are a shade too wide, at least my thighs are attractive enough. Frowning, I looked at my butt in the mirror. Flatter than I would like....ah well, nothing to be done about that. Besides, was I dressing to compete with this French girl - no doubt she had the latest outfit, and the body to fill it out - I'd probably regret getting in a competition with her. From what I'd seen in her cotton blouse and skirt at breakfast, she could stun if she wanted to.

I put on a white cover up, then walked down to the beach, picking up a blanket and beach towel from the pool boy - sadly, he was twelve years old - a little out of my range of interest

I was waiting at the gate only a minute or so, when Gabrielle came down, wearing a short beach robe over her suit. She was beautiful already, and her smile was sweet and dazzling.

"You look so beautiful, ma cherie You could be a wonderful delicacy for someone very lucky"

"Thank you," I said. "But I think you are stunning." She took my arm in hers.

"Let us begin our adventure, yes?"

"Um, okay," I said. We walked maybe a quarter of a mile along the white sand, our feet in the cool wet sand where the waves decide to return to the sea The hotel provided beach umbrellas randomly along the beach, so we found one that seemed perfect. There was tropical brush lining the edge of the beach about 150 feet from the water, and there was no one anywhere in sight on either side as far as I could see. Gabrielle seemed to read my thoughts.

"The couples, I think they are having an early morning interlude, no?" She meshed the fingers of her hands together, and grinned. "It is a very French thing to do, certainement."

I laughed. "We Americans are too go-go to think of that," I said. "But it certainly seems like a good idea." She laughed.

"Perhaps your stay on a French island will help you there," she said with a smile.

"Perhaps," I said, doubtful. I'd need a man for that, and so far the twelve year old pool boy was leading the sixty year old desk clerk by a nose.

"Well, let us settle here, it is acceptable?"

"Yes, it's quite lovely," I said, as I dropped the blanket, towel and my bag of stuff. She dropped her bag also. She helped me spread out the blanket, then arrange the umbrella so that we could see the water as we lay down, with the umbrella adjacent to provide shade if it became too hot, and also provide a modicum of privacy.

Immediately, Gabrielle removed her robe. I was surprised to see her wearing a rather quite modest two piece bathing suit.

"Oh, your suit is very pretty," I said. "Where did you get it?" I expected that it was from some French couturier.

"It is from 'Venus,' on the Internet," she said. "From Florida, in your country." That was a little deflating After Gabrielle pulled out a large bottle of fresh-orange scented suntan oil from her bag, she then removed her top.

She saw my expression. "Oh, have I offended you, mademoiselle?" she said. "I am so sorry-"

"No, no," I said. "Just culture shock, that's all. I kind of forgot that Europeans go topless on beaches. Please don't mind my provincialism."

Gabrielle looked at me appraisingly. "When in Rome..." she said, raising her hands, definitely a Gallic gesture.

"You think I should..." I didn't finish.

"Well, it is your choice. But I assure you that many women here will be sans tops....and bottoms, too. And you have a very lovely, a very charming body. You would not be embarrassed."

I looked at Gabrielle. Her breasts were larger than mine, perfectly tear-drop shaped, with large brown areolas, and small nipples. I wouldn't look so good in comparison to her, with what looked like C cups, but what the hell, I was supposed to be having an adventure, too.

"Um, okay," I said. I removed my top, and her eyes brightened. "Your breasts are magnifique" she exclaimed. "And your pink nipples are so lovely. I am so regretful that my own nipples are so common," gesturing toward her chest.

"I don't know about Frenchmen, but in America, men prefer larger breasts," I lamented.

"Ahh, but in France, it is the shape, and the details about a woman's breasts which excites us. If she has a creamy complexion, if her nipples and areolas are pink, if the shape is just-so...these are things for which we look. And as for what men think....well, it is not important." She had a faint look of disgust on her face with the last sentence. Strange that she'd be down on men with her boyfriend coming to the island in a few days. At least I had a reason to be pissed at men.

Then Gabrielle handed me the lotion. "Please, you would apply it to me, yes?" She turned her back to me, without waiting for a reply.

"Sure," I said. I poured some in my hand, then began applying it to her back, as she gathered her long hair in her hands and brought it over her shoulder to her front.

"Ahh," she sighed. The cool lotion does feel good when first applied. I spread the slick liquid over her smooth back, her back and shoulders firm and strong under my hand. She lifted her arms, expecting me to spread it along her side and on her arms. I shrugged, and continued to massage the oil into her skin. I noticed she had a tiny patch of hair in each armpit.

"That feels very nice," she sighed. "You are very good at that." I smiled.

"I spent a lot of time on beaches as a girl," I said.

"I wager you were a very beautiful little girl," she said.

"Oh, why?" I asked, just keeping the conversation up.

"Because you are a very beautiful woman," she said, turning to look at me over her shoulder, her eyes locking with mine for a few seconds.

"Oh, thank you," I muttered, a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. I sensed that she meant what she'd said, and I wasn't used to 'the competition' giving a compliment, and actually meaning it.

"Seriously," she said, now turning to face me. "You are a very beautiful woman, and anyone who would double time you is a fool."

"Two time," I said, laughing.

"Yes, two time," she said, laughing herself. "My English betrays me often."

"It's very lovely, Gabrielle," I said. Searching for an equivalent compliment, I added, "and your voice is very nice." My eyes were fixed on her breasts. They were damn lovely.

"Ahh, but the rest of me is...not so nice?" I was shocked at the remark, and looked up to her face to see the merriment still in her eyes. "My eyes, they are up here, no?" I blushed furiously at her having caught me so easily.

"Gabrielle, I, I'm sorry-" I began.

"No, no, no, don't apologize, cherie. It is entirely natural to be curious about another woman's breasts, when it is not common to see them au naturel as we do in France. Here, I need lotion here, also." She took my right hand, and turned it palm up, then poured some of the lotion in my hand. Then she kind of thrust her chest out, toward me.

"Um..." I said, not sure what to do or say.

"You must apply it to me, I need the protection." Her logic was flawless.

I tentatively began spreading the oil over her upper chest and shoulders, only gradually, shyly, approaching the swelling fullness of her breasts themselves. She said nothing, allowing me to caress and massage her soft, warm breasts, though I conspicuously avoided touching her nipples, which were erect and hard. I rubbed the lotion into her skin, even the warm, moist skin on the slight underside of her beautiful breasts, then to her stomach, down to the top of her swim bottoms.

Honestly, I enjoyed applying the suntan lotion to her. Her body was lean and firm, except in those places where we women are not.

"There," I said, signaling completion of the task.

"Oh, but you must do these, too. I must not burn here, they are too sensitive." She dribbled a small amount of suntan oil on each nipple and looked expectantly at me.

"Oh," I said, when I realized she was waiting for me to proceed. I tentatively took her nipples between my fingers, and rolled them to coat them in the high SPF oil. Gabrielle sighed as I touched her there.

"Thank you so much," she said, leaning forward and kissing me, this time on the mouth, again to my surprise. She giggled at the look of surprise on my face.

"Now it is my turn to please you," she said. 'Please me?' I wondered.

Gabrielle began applying the lotion to my breasts before I had more than a second to think about what she was doing. I knew it would seem churlish to object once she'd begun - besides, it felt quite nice. So I let her continue, and I was startled to hear myself moan with pleasure. Gabrielle said nothing, but her eyes were knowing.

When she gently rolled my nipples between her thumb and forefinger, applying the protective, citrus-scented oil, I felt a distinct thread of pleasure make its way from my nipples, down through my stomach, to my clit. It was beginning to feel like a dream to me.

"Ahh, there, I think you are done in your front," she said at last. I felt disappointment. "So I will do your back now." I obediently turned around to give her full access to my own back.

The feeling of her warm, strong hands and fingers on my back was nothing short of orgasmic - at least it felt better than any orgasm I'd ever had. She kneaded, and caressed, and massaged almost all of the tension out of my body, until I felt like a wet noodle under her touch. I again found myself moaning, but this time I wasn't embarrassed - I just didn't want her to stop

It seemed like too soon when she said, her voice sounding reluctant, "that is all, cherie, your top is finished."

"Now you must decide," she said abruptly.

"Decide what? I sighed, still in an orgasmic glow.

"You must decide whether you wish to keep your bottoms on or not, so that I may apply the lotion to you correctly."

"Um, keep them on," I said.

"Oh, that is unfortunate," she said. "I would like to take mine off, so that I may get a correct tan, but I would feel strange if I do so and you do not." Well, she didn't seem to be taking into account how strange I would feel, but, I looked around. There was still no one anywhere in sight....and she HAD said that most people here went bottomless...didn't she? It's not as though there'd be any guys gawking at me, and I'd just be here with another woman. SHE wouldn't be staring at my pussy or ass - after all, she had those things herself.

"Um, okay," I said. "I'll take them off." I reluctantly pushed my bikini bottoms down, and to my relief, Gabrielle was looking toward the Caribbean waves, so I quickly lay down on the blanket, after some confusion about which part of me I'd actually be putting 'sunny side up.'

"Ah, are you ready?" she said, when she turned back to me.

"Yes, go ahead," I said, only a little trepidation in my voice. I thought to myself, that it really was time I grew up and got over the 'naked' thing. It was hardly adult or in keeping with the spirit of my adventure on a Caribbean island

Gabrielle knelt next to me, the outside of her thighs warm against mine, then I felt a cool squirt on the back of my left thigh. I giggled, because it felt like somebody cumming on me, but cooler.

"Ah, it DOES feel peculiar, does it not?" Gabrielle sighed, followed by the feel of her talented fingers caressing in the lotion. Her fingers rubbed me along the outside of my legs, from the blanket, up to a center line along the back of them. Although it felt very sensual and soothing, there was little about it to excite me sexually. Still, I could have put up with such a pleasant sensation all week, and gone home extremely satisfied.

Then Gabrielle attended to the outside of my legs on the other side, leaving my ass and the insides of my legs to be done. I was curious how she would deal with those areas, and determined to let her have her way there, at least as far as applying the lotion was concerned

Then I heard the lotion bottle make kind of a 'glop glop' sound, followed by the splash of liquid on the center of my left butt cheek, and the sound and sensation were repeated on the right cheek. Well, now I knew whether she'd cover my ass in lotion. Then she began to rub it in.

I don't know if you've ever had someone caress and massage your bottom. I don't mean when a guy grabs it because he wants to get a handful of a girl's ass, or when he's using it as a handle to get his dick deeper in your pussy, or, god forbid, your ass hole - I mean when someone is doing their utmost to bring YOU pleasure, by touching all the areas there that are forbidden in everyday life.

Gabrielle MUST have been an experienced masseuse, or so I thought. It was the only way I could explain her knowledge of how to bring another woman such intense pleasure, and without involving her pussy and clit. Her fingers played varied solo pieces of music along the curves of my butt, always spreading lotion on unexposed areas, pressing, whispering over sensitive areas of skin, teasing areas she could not possibly have known were aching for her touch, as I had no idea they were.

Then she pressed the heel of her hand continuously into my plump ass cheeks, rolling her hand, moving it a few inches, rolling hard into me, again and again, over and over, the pleasure intense, incredibly so. I found every muscle back there, relaxing, sensitive to her touch, including that around my anal sphincter. I was afraid I might accidentally fart, and embarrass myself, given how even my sphincter was now relaxed. But, I thought it was a risk worth taking, I didn't feel as though I would do anything accidentally. In any case, all she did was massage me, but my lord, WHAT a massage

After the intense kneading and rolling of my ass flesh, I thought there was nothing else she could do there to please me. And that was when I became aware that I was wet. That is to say, my pussy was becoming quite wet. I could feel moisture creeping downward from it onto my bare skin above my clit. I had gotten a full Brazilian for this vacation, and it was a shame that no one would be taking advantage of it. Then I considered that Gabrielle might, indeed, probably would, be doing my front. I could only hope she didn't see my pussy becoming wet under her touch.

My thoughts returned to what Gabrielle was still doing to my now quite delighted rear end. Her fingers and palms fluttered over my globes, fingers almost randomly touching and pressing me, and just as randomly, caressing me, building my excitement higher with each casual, yet studied, caress.

To my utter shock, I felt a series of tiny, almost imperceptible orgasms course through me. With each touch of a finger, caress of palm, my heart changed its beat, my breathing turned rapid and shallow, my fingers and toes flexed, until I groaned, the pleasure....almost constant, but fortunately not overwhelming. How embarrassing to have a full blown orgasm after being touched by a woman, beautiful and sweet, or not

"Oh, have I hurt you?" Gabrielle enquired, after a somewhat louder groan, following a somewhat more noticeable climax.

"Oh....no, just a slight cramp," I responded breathily.

"I am SO sorry," she said. "I have spent too much time applying the cream in one area, it can cause cramping I think." I felt her blessed fingers leaving me, and felt like screaming out, "NOOOOO"

But then I felt the familiar splash of viscous liquid on my inner thighs, and her talented fingers urging me to spread my legs. "You don't know how many guys have wanted that same thing from me," I thought to myself. But they didn't get it.

She would - not that there was anything sexual going on, of course. I wriggled my legs apart, my head still resting comfortably on my crossed arms on the blanket, beginning to slip in and out of a doze, completely relaxed now.

Gabrielle' fingers and hands continued to apply the lotion to my inner parts of my legs, first coating and massaging my feet within her hands. God, a foot massage may be the next thing to heaven, I think Then she rubbed more lotion in, traveling up my ankles, and calves, to the underside of my knees, and then to my inner thighs, sensation building inside me again, and as it was the route she seemed to be following, electricity coursing beyond my thighs to my pussy and clit.

These orgasms were only a little more intense, but there were so many_. I had for so long imagined that each woman could experience only one orgasm during the course of being fucked, and then her pleasure was over. This was an entire other universe of orgasms - not one orgasm, but rather hundreds or thousands of orgasms; not intense pleasure, but rather pleasure washing over me - small, delicate, and in some very odd way, musical, causing me to moan; not bringing me to a peak of pleasure, followed by a valley of relief and absence - but rather just bringing me to a peak, building higher and higher, but no downward slide, no end to pleasure._

I was confused by what was happening. Whether through design or accident, I was being led on a course to the most intense orgasm I would ever experience. How could I get out of this situation without embarrassing us both by cumming loudly when Gabrielle eventually began to apply lotion close to my pussy or clit?

"Well, what do you think - oh, hello," the blonde said, looking at Virginia and I, who were staring around the ends of our tall booth (rather comically, in retrospect) at the two women. They looked at us in amusement. "I'm guessing you heard my story," the blonde said, smiling. "Would you like to join us?"

Virginia and I looked at each other, and I nodded. We scooted around and joined the two, who were seated on opposite sides of their booth, each with a cup of tea in front of her. I was next to the blonde on the far side, Virginia seated next to the older woman, opposite us. The blonde began the round of introductions.

"I'm Lori Sommer, I'm an author of lesbian erotica from Colorado. This is my agent, Beverly Sanford, from New York City. I'm in town to do a little story research, and Beverly thought she'd bring me down some contracts for future projects. And you are..."

I introduced Virginia and I, leaving out much of our story, but mainly getting across that we were newly a couple and had wanted to have dinner at such a well known lesbian hangout.

"Hmm. You're a truckdriver?" she said, pointing to me. I nodded. "And you're a pregnant hitchhiker?"

"Close enough," Virginia said.

"And you fell in love?" We both smiled, and nodded.

"You know, I think there could be a story in you two," Lori said.

"Really?" I said. Virginia smiled.

She added, "If you hear the rest of the story, you'll DEFINITELY think there's a story there It's been quite a week," she remarked.

"Oh yeah?" Lori said, curious.

"Lori finds stories in nearly everything she does, or people she meets," said Beverly, the older woman.

"As a matter of fact, that's what I was doing, when you all 'accidentally' overheard us," Lori said. "I was reading Beverly the beginning to a story inspired by a woman I met on the flight down here. I wrote it on the plane as I was sitting next to her. I felt kind of rude doing that, but if I didn't write it down, the story would be lost. She was quite charming, but slightly pushy. New Yorkers." She shrugged. Beverly rolled her eyes.

"When I get it wrapped up, I'm thinking of calling it 'Interlude,' or 'Tropical Interlude,' something like that."

"You mean there wasn't actually a 'Susanne Marler' or a 'Gabrielle Delacroix'?" I asked.

"No, just me showing off a little," Lori said.

"Lori likes to do that to people," Beverly said.

"Well, you've got to admit, it's a great way to meet people," Lori said, grinning. "Besides, that makes this officially a business meeting and therefore tax deductible."

She turned to Virginia and me, serious now. "Ladies, I have no doubt whatsoever that there are indeed both a 'Susanne Marler' AND a 'Gabrielle Delacroix' out there right at this moment on a beach somewhere. Probably not St. Martin though, because the sun's already gone down. Maybe Pago Pago or something. Anyway, the artist and woman in me both want to believe so much in the power of love, and its pure existence. I hope that IF those two DON'T exist, that maybe I can bring them into being, one way or another."

"Have you found your Love?" I asked the author.

"Thank god, yes. I have a lovely wife named Karen back in Colorado, and I can't wait to see her, and hold her, and, well you can imagine how I can go on..."

Well, we all had a great additional hour of conversation with those two lovely women, until Virginia and I had to beg off. We exchanged addresses with them, and I told Lori that I hoped we'd be able to get together with her and Karen sometime. She smiled and said, "The invitation is always open.' then she told us her agent would be happy to pick up our check, and grinned at Beverly, who looked resigned.

As we were walking out, I asked Virginia, "Did you think she was telling a story, or was she recounting something that really happened?

Virginia shrugged, and said, "She had ME fooled. And it was VERY enjoyable. I wonder where we could find her stories?"

"I dunno, maybe on the Internet somewhere. I don't think she publishes under the name 'Lori Sommer,' though. She said she used a pen name, 'Lisa' something."

We caught a taxi that got us back to our motel. We freshened up, then slid into bed, happy to be in each other's arms again, and looking forward to the conclusion of our trip. After a long, comfortable kiss with the woman I love, I told her what was first in my heart.

"I love you, Virginia.'

"I love you, too."

We slipped into our short night's sleep.