Disclaimer: This story contains a loving and sometimes graphic sexual relationship between two women. If this offends you, go away. If you are under legal age or such things are illegal in the place where you are, please move on. All others, please read and enjoy. There is no violence, but there is mild language.

Acknowledgement: The poems quoted herein are used with permission of the author and are contained in 'Poetry from the Featherbed' by pinfeather, Copyright 2003 by pinfeather. Published by Dare 2 Dream Publishing, a Division of Limitless Corporation, Lexington, South Carolina 29073 (http://www.limitlessd2d.net).

Thank you to: Em for finding the time in a busy schedule to Beta and for her helpful suggestions, kind critique, and especially for not being afraid to say "this doesn‘t work!" Frenchie for her eagle eye and insistence on appropriate commas, capitalization, and verb tense. I’ve tried to listen, and any errors that remain in the finished product are mine, all mine.

Acknowledgement: The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face. Lyrics by Roberta Flack.

Note: This story is a back-story to ‘Message in a Bottle,’ but each story stands on its own.

Feedback: Suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome; spam and vitriol are

not. Encouraging words and a pat on the back are more than welcome. That having been said, read on and let me know what you think. sageamante@yahoo.com




Copyright © Saggio Amante 2004

All rights reserved.


I wasn’t looking for it when it grabbed me by the heart

I knew it would be trouble and it has been from the start

But trouble such as this I can no longer live without

I’ve finally figured out what all the fuss has been about.

Ambushed! (Poetry from a Featherbed by Pinfeather)




"Mocha Latte," Marina ordered without raising her eyes from the book she was reading. The figure standing by her table didn’t move. "That’s all," Marina said curtly. The figure remained. "Welllll?" Marina drawled with irritation. She slowly raised her amber eyes from her book and felt her breath catch in her chest as amused green eyes stared back at her.

"Welllll," said green eyes, her voice dripping with honey. "I was wondering, is this seat taken? It seems to be the only empty one in here." An almost imperceptible French accent curled around the words as she spoke them.

‘I’m having a wet dream,’ Marina moaned internally. ‘This can’t be happening.’ Out loud she rasped, "No, it’s not taken. Please, have a seat." She had to stop herself from rising to pull back a chair for the small, curly-headed blonde in front of her. She looked back down at her book as the stranger sat and then lowered the book just slightly so that she could peer over the top to sneak a look at the woman now seated across from her.

"Is it always this busy in here?" The blonde asked.

"Usually." Marina replied without looking up.

"A woman of few words, I see." The blond laughed. "I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, a long week, actually. Please, get back to your reading."

Marina laid her book down in her lap. "No, that’s all right. I can always read it later." She smiled. "My name’s Marina. And yours?"

"Lizette," the small woman responded, flicking her tongue across her lips to wet them. She held her hand out to Marina.

Marina took the small hand in her own and felt a surge of electricity vortex down her spine as she watched Lizette’s tongue move slowly across her own lips. She felt her stomach contract and a sruge of wetness begin between her thighs. She pulled her hand back quickly, surprised at the visceral reaction this stranger had evoked in her. She was relieved when the server arrived and asked for their order.

"Mocha Latte Grande with whipped cream," the two women said at once, then laughed simultaneously.

Green eyes looked shyly across the table into amber eyes, then both looked away, two pairs of eyes surveying a crowded room and seeing nothing but each other.

"What are you reading?" Lizette finally asked, turning back to Marina.

"A bit of poetry," Marina responded. "There’s a reading tonight."

"I love poetry."

"You do?"

"Yes. Why, does that surprise you?"

"There’s not a very large market for poetry out there. I’m just surprised that of all the people in the world, someone who loves poetry would sit down at the table with me if that makes any sense."

"Of course it does. I know just how you feel. None of my friends read poetry anymore … if they ever did. They don’t know what they’re missing. Have you read Poems from a Featherbed?"

Marina pulled the small lavender blue book from her lap and held it up. "You mean this one?" She said, her voice ringing with amusement.

"My new favorite," Lizette laughed, pulling the same book from her jacket pocket. "We seem to have a lot in common."

"You and the poet?"

"Well, that, too. I meant you and I. First mocha lattes, then poetry, and not just poetry but poems by pinfeather as well."

"And what about the poet? What do you have in common with her?"

"Her?" Lizette teased, "How do you know it’s a her? Pinfeather is a rather innocuous name."

"Oh, it’s a her," Marina insisted. "These are a woman’s words."

"How can you be so sure?"

Marina laughed throatily. "Trust me," she said. "No man could write about love’s tribulations quite this way. Besides, what man would call himself pinfeather?"

"Nonsense. Many men have written wonderfully about love. As for names … what woman would call herself George Sand?"

"Touché." Marina smiled. "But I still say the author is a woman."

"Perhaps. But you can’t be certain, can you?"

"Oh, but I can. Would you like to bet on it?"

The waiter set their mochas on the table, and the two women sat silently sipping their bittersweet drinks.

Lizette spoke first. "What are the terms of the bet?"

"Ah. Let me think. …. How about, if I'm right, you can buy me a drink after the reading."

"And, if you’re wrong?"

"I’m not."

"All right," Lizette laughed. "It’s a deal. But let‘s make it a little more lucrative. If it‘s a woman, I‘ll buy you dinner tomorrow night."

"And if it‘s a man?"

"Then you buy me dinner, tomorrow night."

‘Either way, I win,’ they each thought.

They sat quietly sipping their drinks, enjoying the sensation of a growing attraction and a connection that neither wanted to break. Both were disappointed when it was broken by the server. "Anything else ladies?"


"No. Thank you." Lizette reached for the check and felt Marina’s large hand cover hers. She looked at the long, slender fingers cupping her hand and shivered at the images they evoked.

"My treat," Marina said. "It’s the least I can do for such scintillating company."

Lizette left her hand on the table, enjoying the warmth of Marina’s skin against her own. Neither woman moved, the moment they shared frozen in time until the loud speaker announced that the reading would begin in five minutes and Lizette reluctantly pulled her hand back.

Marina placed the money for the check in the small leather folder on the table, then stood and pulled back Lizette’s chair. "Shall we?"

Lizette smiled up at her, and Marina was sure her heart would melt, then and there, leaving a big puddle on the bookstore floor. Lizette rose slowly and stood just in front of Marina, her blonde curls tickling the bottom of Marina’s chin.

‘A perfect fit.’ The thought rushed unexpectedly into Marina’s mind as she fought back the urge to pull the small blonde back against her. She grasped Lizette’s elbow. "This way." Marina said, guiding her companion toward a small room in the back of the store.


Marina and Lizette found adjoining seats in the front of the room. The gathering was small and intimate. They sat silently next to each other, legs not quite touching, feeling the heat in the air between them burn into their thighs, each lost in her own thoughts.

‘I can’t believe I’m sitting here in a strange city, with a virtual stranger, wanting nothing more than to have her throw me to the floor and ravish me.’ Lizette’s mind reeled with possibilities as she felt a familiar ache.

‘My god, I’d love to taste that mouth, touch that skin.’ Marina moaned quietly as visions of Lizette writhing beneath her burned into her brain.

"Did you say something?" Lizette asked.

"No, just clearing my throat," Marina responded, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. ‘Not now, damn it!’ She thought, wincing at the telltale sign of embarrassment that always overcame her at the most inopportune moments.

Neither woman heard as a thin, bearded man walked to the front of the room and introduced the poet. They didn’t hear the clapping hands of the small audience. They didn’t notice the tall, beautiful woman who strode confidently to the chair in the center of the room. It was not until a melodious, alto voice rang out, pulling them out of their reverie, that they realized there were others in the room in addition to themselves and that the reading had started.

"I wasn’t looking for it when it grabbed me by the heart," the poet began.

‘I wasn’t looking either,’ Marina’s mind responded.

‘My god, what’s happening here?" Lizette thought.

For an hour the hypnotic voice of the author lulled the audience into contemplative silence. Time flew by rapidly and, as suddenly as it began, the reading was over and the crowd began to circle around the author, holding out books for autographs and asking inane questions. The poet looked up and caught the small blonde’s eye. "Hey, Lizette, glad you could make it," she called.

Lizette waved and smiled, then turned to Marina. "Well, I guess I owe you one dinner," she smiled.

Marina smiled back. "You cheated. You know her. You knew all along she was a woman."

"I cheated? What about you."


"Don’t you dare tell me you didn’t read the bio at the end of the book. It plainly says pinfeather is a woman."

"Caught me, Remind me never to play poker with you." Marina laughed. "Do you live far from here? Can I give you a lift home?"

"Actually, you can, if you don’t mind. I don’t live here. I’m at the Embassy Suites. I’m only in town for another week on business."

The words hit Marina like a ton of bricks. ’One week. Just one week.’ Her heart sank.

"Well, then, we shall have to make the most of it," Marina said brightly, the cheer in her voice belying the ache in her heart. "How about dinner at Gondalfo’s tomorrow night. It’s Italian. I hope you like Italian."

"Perfect. I love Italian," Lizette replied. ’Damn. Three hours ago I was unhappy because I had to stay in this burg a week. Now, that doesn’t seem long enough.’ She mused.

Marina looked at her watch. "It’s only 9:30. How about a nightcap?"

"I’d love to, but … " Lizette started to decline, but reconsidered when she noticed a look of disappointment quickly flash then disappear in Marina’s eyes. "Uh, I’d love to, but just one." She finished and smiled inwardly at the look of relief and pleasure that lit the eyes of the tall, striking woman looking down at her.

"I know just the place," Marina started.

"If you don’t mind, how about the bar at my hotel? I have a long day tomorrow and I need to get to bed early."

"Of course."


They rode together in silence on the short drive to the hotel. Marina reached over and flicked on the radio to the local classic rock station. She stifled a smile when the announcer said it was oldies but goodies night and she heard the seductive voice of Roberta Flack -

The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave
To the night and the empty skies my love
To the night and the empty skies

Marina stopped for a red-light and turned to look at the small woman in the seat beside her.

Lizette sat with her head back against the seat rest, her eyes closed, her hands lying loosely in her lap. A smile tickled the corner of her lips, and she began to hum along with the radio, her voice sweet but slightly off-tune.

Marina reached her hand to take one of Lizette’s from her lap, then jumped as the car behind began to honk its horn. She mentally cursed the green light then put her hand back on the wheel and hit the pedal, hearing the screech of tires as her car sped away from the unwelcome interruption.

"Slow down!" Lizette yelled, looking at Marina fearfully. Her body began to shake.

Marina slowed the car, and looked over at her passenger. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you."

"I over-reacted. I’m sorry, too. Forget it." Lizette responded as she laid her head once again against the seatback and closed her eyes.

"Are you all right?" Marina asked, touching Lizette’s arm lightly.

"I’m fine. Just a little nervous and tired, I think."

"Would you rather I just drop you off and leave?"

Lizette hesitated and Marina held her breath waiting for the answer. "No. Please join me for a drink. I’d like that very much." Lizette whispered.


Marina pulled into the valet parking at Embassy Suites. She got out and walked around the car just as the valet was opening Lizette’s door. "Here," she said, handing him the keys and reaching a hand out to help Lizette from the car. Their hands touched, the contact searing their palms, then just a quickly they pulled apart. They walked, silently, side by side into the quiet bar and sat down in a corner booth.

"Marguerita," they said simultaneously.

Lizette smiled at the waiter. "I'll have mine neat."

"The same and well-salted." Marina said.

"Yes, me too - well-salted." Lizette turned to Marina, laughing. "This is getting a bit bizarre."

"Isn’t it!" Marina smiled, delighting in the small blonde’s laughter.

"Are you accustomed to doing this?" Lizette asked.

"Doing what?"

"Picking up strange women in bookstores."


"No? Never?" Lizette sounded incredulous.

"Well, almost never. It‘s been years since I even thought about that much less did it."


"Just once. A long time ago." Marina felt a sadness overwhelm her as memories of another green-eyed blonde came rushing back.

Lizette sensed the change in mood immediately. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry."

"No, that’s all right." Marina replied. "Actually, this is my first night out in a long, long time. A friend of mine told me I needed to get out more. I’m glad I listened."

"I’m glad, too."

"So what brings you to our little burg?" Marina queried, anxious to change the subject.

"I’m a writer. I’m here on assignment."

"So is that how you know pf?"

"Actually, yes, in a manner of speaking. We have the same publisher."


"When she knew I was going to be in town on business, she invited me to the reading tonight. That’s why I was at the bookstore."

"Lucky for me, then."

"No. Lucky for me. I spend a lot of time on the road. It’s the nature of what I do. It gets lonely sometimes."

"And do you usually pick up strange women in bookstores?" Marina asked jokingly.



"No. This is the first time."



"Well, you’re pretty darned good at it," Marina laughed.

"You’re not half bad yourself for being so out of practice," Lizette laughed back. "Listen, I have to turn in. I’m leaving for North Carolina tomorrow."

"Oh." Marina’s voice was tinged with disappointment. "Then I guess we’ll have to forget about dinner tomorrow. Perhaps Wednesday?"

"No, no! I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression. I’ll be leaving early in the morning, but I’ll be back later in the afternoon. Dinner will be fine."

"Pick you up at 7 o‘clock then?"

"7:00 would be fine."

Marina dropped some bills on the table, then reached over to take Lizette’s hand between her own. "It’s been a lovely evening. I look forward to tomorrow."

Lizette smiled into Marina’s eyes, her own eyes bright with anticipation. "As do I. Tonight was wonderful."

The two women rose and walked from the bar. Lizette followed Marina out and waited with her while the valet got the car. He pulled up in front of the two women, and Marina tipped him as he got out and handed her the keys.

"Well, I guess that’s it, then, until tomorrow."

"Yes, well, good night. See you tomorrow."

They stood there looking at each other, neither wanting to move, until Marina bent down and placed a shy kiss on Lizette’s cheek, then got into her car and drove off. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Lizette standing on the curb, one hand waving her off, the other touching the spot on her cheek where Marina had placed that gentle kiss.


Continued in Part 2

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