## If You Want My Advice ## By ## Mavis Applewater yomavis@email.com
February 2005 Disclaimers, the story and characters are the sole possession of the author and may not be reproduced, posted or sold without the author’s permission. So there! If you are uncomfortable with or do not wish to read a story with graphic descriptions of two consenting adult women in a loving and sexual relationship then do not read this story or anything else I have ever written. If for any reason it is illegal for you to view this material go away and do not return until it is no longer a crime. My apologies for not having this story beta read please endure the typos and other mishaps since once again I ran out time. Thanks once again to everyone at the Academy for inviting me back. As always this is for Heather. No sane person should ever ask me for advice. Not that has stopped me from offering it every chance I get. I just can’t help myself my mouth is quite often off and running before my brain kicks in. Especially when it comes to relationships. No why would someone entrust me with the intimate details of their relationship? If I knew anything about surviving a relationship I’d be in one right? Alas the fates have a wicked sense of humor not only do I offer advice at the drop of a hat the powers that be have decided that this is the way I should make my living. Now before you saying anything let me explain everything. First every day I brew a huge pot of coffee before I wander out to my front door frightening my neighbors with my unkempt appearance and collect the paper. I like to pretend that I read the newspaper every day in an effort to keep a breast of current events. It is a lie. I do read the current events but not until I follow my system. My first stop is my horoscope then it is straight on to the crossword puzzle. I use to start with Calvin and Hobbs but sadly that is no longer an option. Now if the crossword is the least bit challenging it can be an all day project and world events will just fall by the wayside. Now if I somehow complete the crossword my next stop isn’t the headlines nope my next stop is the advice columns. I don’t know what it is about them but I just love reading about people whose lives are actually more screwed up than my own. For more years than I can remember my local paper hosted a column by Marcy Manners. I am clueless as just how Marcy considered herself qualified to give advice but there she was day after day doling out platitudes to the misguided masses. For years I would read her column and cuss out loud frightening my poor cats. Marcy in my humble opinion is stuck in an era that has long since passed. For example she actually told a woman that despite the financial strains her family was experiencing that this woman should remain a stay at home Mom. Her reasoning was that it would confuse her children and more than likely do irreparable damage to their young psyches if Mommy went to work. I bitched about that one for over a month. Still I read her advice column day in and day out. One fine day I was at home wallowing in self-pity after being laid off I decided to cheer myself up by reading Marcy’s column. And it just ticked me off. A woman wrote in explaining that she was dating a man younger than herself and a co-worker/friend ran to her telling her that this man had said some very nasty things about her. The reader went on to explain that this so-called friend had been interested in the same man. Her concern was that her friend had set her up so that she could break the couple up. Her fears were further bolstered by the fact that before and after this had occurred the other woman had been hanging all over this man like white on rice. Now when I read this little tidbit I had to agree that her so called friend didn’t act out of friendship but was trying to break the couple up. Just my opinion. Marcy on the other hand had a different view of things. She chastised the reader for not appreciating her friend’s efforts to protect her from someone who because of the age difference was unsuitable for her. Now that just frosted my cookies. Again I am the last person anyone and I mean anyone should ask advice from but Marcy once again was way off base. I festered about this all day what the hell I really didn’t have anything else to think about being out of work and all and the high point of my night was downing a pint of Ben and Jerry’s while watching reruns of Charmed. Sometime after I had my fill of sugar and the Charmed ones my friend Sylvia dropped by to cheer me up. After pigging out on pizza and wine I told Sylvia about Marcy’s column. She agreed that Marcy was stuck in 1958. Now maybe it was the wine or just perhaps I really needed something to do but when Sylvia mentioned that Marcy often posted rebuttals that you can email in to her I thought it was a really good idea to dash off an email telling Marcy exactly what I thought of her misguided advice. “Good one Wendy,” Sylvia congratulated me after I sent off a scathing email to Marcy. There are certain things a person should never do when they have been drinking, driving tops the list and sending emails comes in second. For whatever reason my horrid response was posted in the following weeks paper. Marcy had some very harsh words regarding my negative attitude. I thought that would be the end of it. I insulted Marcy and got my name in the paper no big deal. Until see you knew that was coming didn’t you. It seems other readers loved my little tirade. One of the readers was the woman who had initially written to Marcy about her problem, turns out I was right and her ex-friend was now involved with her ex-boyfriend. This didn’t sit to well with Marcy who it seems was getting ready to retire. She threw down a challenge. If I thought I could do better than I should try and see if I could do better. Something about the snotty way she made the offer got to me so I accepted. How hard could it be right? The following week I received a stack of mail and emails and was asked to give my advice. I did and for some bizarre reason it was a big hit with the readers. A month later Marcy finally retired and the paper offered me a job. I have to be honest I thought for certain that the paper would see what a mistake hiring me was within the first week. They didn’t and Wendy’s World has been a big hit. That was two years ago and I’ll let you in on a little secret if you think the blurbs that we print are funky you should see the ones that aren’t fit to print. There are some seriously deranged people out there. Now I know this doesn’t explain what happened last month or why I am here now but I’m getting there. During the holidays I got a letter from a woman who went on a blind date that was a disaster. She was so disillusioned by the experience that she vowed never to go on another blind date ever again. I agreed with her to a point that meeting new people can be frightening but giving up wasn’t the answer. I did expand my thoughts about blind dates and how there was a high probability of meeting a lunatic. In my response I also made the grievous error of confessing that I am single and have never been on a blind date. My more devoted readers voiced their opinion that I should give it a try. Most were men who wanted to be my blind date. Now I didn’t out myself or accept any of the bizarre offers that flooded my mailbox but I did agree that before I spout off about blind dates I should at least experience one. Since I blame Sylvia for all of this I called her. Being the good friend that she is she found me a date. To this day I think I should have just called my mother because she would have picked a man and I could just dump him on the spot. But no I went with my friend who I thought knew me. Anyhoo, first dates are nerve wracking enough without knowing anything about your date. My first obstacle was what to wear when I didn’t even know what my date looked like. How do you dress for someone you’ve never even spoken to on the phone? My second mistake was leaving all of the details up to Sylvia. She not only selected my escort for the evening she picked the restaurant as well. Oh and she neglected to inform my date that I am an advice columnist and this was all part of my job. The night of my big date arrived and I was beyond nervous. All I knew was where and when I was suppose to show up and that my date was a woman named Sharon. When I get nervous all of my bad habits emerge in full force. First I couldn’t decide what to wear, then there is my overly chatty nature and of course checking the weather report might have been a really good idea. Who knew that a sudden blizzard would decide to hit Boston that night making getting a cab to pick me up nearly impossible? I must have called the taxi company at least a dozen times. Each time they reassured me that the cab would be arriving soon. I was already late and had no way of getting in touch with my mystery date. Finally I decided that my date must have assumed that I was standing her up. In my infinite wisdom I chose to just walk to the restaurant, which I had thought was much closer than it was. I guess during normal weather conditions the trek wouldn’t have been as long. Yet when you are trudging along in blinding snow, cars splashing you while you are cursing yourself for not having the good sense to wear something sensible make for a bitch of a walk. I arrived extremely late looking like a drowned rat. Due the poor weather conditions the restaurant wasn’t busy in fact they were trying to close down. I eyed the few scattered patrons carefully in a vain effort to find my date. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had given up on me hours ago. I stood there dripping all over the floor my new heels ruined and my hair plastered to my face. I gave up on trying to figure out who the unlucky woman was and simply shouted out her name. I must have looked like a complete lunatic. I could tell be the frightened look in her eyes and shocked expression that she was my date. The poor thing. I slipped as I tried to act suave when I approached her. I caught a glimpse of my appearance in the mirror behind the bar and I wanted to die. My hair was gnarly and I had mascara running down my cheeks. My date on the other hand was stunning with her dark hair and electric eyes. If it wasn’t for the look of sheer horror plastered on her face I think I would have proposed right on the spot. She tried to be polite but the thing is I am normally a very talkative person anyways but add my agitation and nervousness I will ramble on and on until someone threatens to duck tape my mouth. All in all not a pretty picture. I thought if I could just explain things to her she would somehow get past my tardiness and strange appearance. I rambled on and on cursing every taxi driver and weatherman on the planet. Not once did I ask her anything about herself. The poor thing just sat there listening to my insane ramblings. I never gave the poor woman a chance to speak. As a matter of fact I don’t think I heard her utter a single word until she begged the waiter for the check. Then we argued on who should pay the check. Imagine her surprise when I explained that the date was for business. I could tell she was upset perhaps that is why she tossed the check down on the table. I think she thanked me for the date before trying to bolt out of the restaurant. I sat there feeling very useless the only high point for me at that moment was chances of ever seeing poor Sharon again were slim to none since I was thoroughly convinced that if she ever saw me she would run in the opposite direction. Imagine my surprise when I finally crawled out of the restaurant and discovered her standing in the snow staring at the snow-covered curb. My heart was filled with dread when I glanced up at the street sign that boldly proclaimed that parking on the street during a snow emergency was illegal. “You parked on the street?” I squeaked out only to receive a groan in response. “Why?” I asked before I could think better of it. “It wasn’t snowing when I arrived,” she hissed under her breath never once looking at me. Suffice to say Sharon wasn’t very happy at that moment in time. I learned a few things that night one is after being a bad date don’t offer to let them crash at your place. The answer is no. I also learned that living in a city that loves to ticket and tow cars trying to retrieve your vehicle during a blizzard is impossible. After trudging all over the city Sharon finally gave up and ended up sleeping on my very tiny sofa. That was after listening to me babble on and on all night. I honestly believe she finally agreed to sleep at my place just to shut me up. When I awoke the following morning I vowed that I would do whatever I could to make amends and try to convince Sharon that I am not the fruitcake she certainly must think that I am. It might have worked if she had still been there in the morning. By the time I crawled out of bed Sharon was long gone. Later I heard from Sylvia that Sharon eventually found her car and after paying a small fortune made it to her job the next afternoon only to be reamed by her boss for being so late. “In the annuals of dating I doubt that anyone has been tortured to such an extreme degree as you were. Which brings to why I am sitting here now. First I just happened by and saw you sitting here at the bar so this isn’t a stalking thing. I just wanted to apologize,” I conclude as Sharon stares blankly over at me. I know that when I saw her I should have just kept walking but I really felt a need to explain things to her. My courage was bolstered by the fact that at this moment I look a hell of lot better than I did the first time we met. She is still sitting there seemingly studying me. “Okay,” I sigh deeply hoping that just perhaps she understands what really happened a little better. “I’ll be going now.” “Hold on,” she responds slowly still gaping at me. “So you don’t normally talk this much?” “Well yes,” I confess. “Just more so when I’m nervous like now.” “I have to be honest,” she begins. “When I saw you walking over well at first I didn’t recognize you but when I did I almost bolted out the door. Explaining all of this to me must have taken a lot of courage. Wendy that night was a disaster but it wasn’t your fault. There was a freak snow storm and granted we didn’t hit it off but again the weather and my missing car had more to do with that than you did.” “Thank you,” I blow out feeling mildly relieved. “Don’t thank me yet I’m still pissed that I was just some assignment,” she cautions me. “You could have told me that. Or at least Sylvia should have mentioned it.” “One of us should have explained it,” I agree. “I think I would have if I had been thinking clearly but I was too far gone after I saw what I looked like.” “Understandable,” she laughs before offering me a shy smile. “If you promise that it won’t end up in the paper would you like to try again?” “Seriously?” I sputter completely floored that this amazing woman is willing to go out with me after the torture she endured the last time we shared a meal. “Why not?” She chuckles. “I mean it couldn’t be any worse than the last time could it?” “Oh I don’t know,” I mutter. “The fates seem to enjoy screwing with me. But if you are brave enough to try again the answer is yes.” I am stunned when she offers to buy me a drink. We sit and talk for a while and this time it is a two-way conversation. I have to admit I find Sharon completely fascinating. At the end of our conversation I give her my phone number and vow to leave the details of our date completely in her hands. I also offer her an out by informing her that if she doesn’t call I would understand. I feel relieved when she laughs at my suggestion. ******************************************************* My relief vanishes a few days later when I find myself pacing around my apartment checking my phone every five seconds to see if it is working. My cats keep looking at me as if I am deranged and I am beginning to wonder if just perhaps I am. “Ah screw it,” I finally concede reminding myself that I did give Sharon an out and perhaps after thinking it over she decided to take it. I curl up in bed once again indulging in junk food while I surf the channels in a vain attempt to find something decent to watch on television. I am feeling a little down that Sharon has changed her mind adding to my misery is that Valentines Day is just around the corner and I thought I had finally met someone. “My mistake,” I huff. “Cool!” I exclaim loudly when I finally find something I want to watch. Of course at the very moment I get sucked into the movie my telephone rings. “Son of,” I grumble as crumbs fall from my mouth. “Yeah,” I bark into the phone thoroughly annoyed that I am being disturbed. “Wendy?” Her deep voice greets me sounding completely confused by my gruff tone. “Crap,” I sputter spilling chips all over the bed. “Sorry,” I quickly apologize while trying to clean up the mess I just made. “Is this a bad time?” Sharon shyly inquires. “No,” I blurt out much to eagerly. “Sorry I was just watching television.” “Oh,” she responds in an understanding tone. “I’m sorry that I didn’t call sooner work has been a bugger. Uhm about dinner?” My heart is beating wildly and I am amazed by how shy she sounds. “I was thinking,” she continues. “How about Sunday night I know this little Thai place that isn’t far from your place.” I take a deep breath in an effort to calm myself so I won’t sound like an idiot when I accept. “I know the place,” I explain praying that I sound like a normal person. All the while my inner voice is screaming, ‘I can’t believe she called!’ We hash out the details of where and when to meet. I laugh when she explains that she will be taking the train this time just in case. *********************************************************** It is Sunday the night of my big date and I am beyond nervous. I arrived at the restaurant an hour early not wanting a repeat of the last time. So far only the weather reflects my last date with Sharon. “I can’t believe it is snowing again,” her rich voice echoes from behind me. I almost knock over my glass of wine my skin is prickling from the sound of her voice. “I didn’t see you come in,” I sputter as I try to regain my composure. “You’re early,” she offers warmly as she takes a seat beside me. “So are you,” I respond curious as to why my heart is pounding. “I didn’t want to take any chances with the weather and all,” she explains before ordering two more glasses of wine. “I can’t believe it is snowing again.” “I know,” I snort in response. “Did you drive?” “I almost did,” she explains her deep blue eyes hold me captive and suddenly I forget how to speak. “I was afraid I was going to be held up at work. I lucked out and caught the train just in time.” “Oh,” I somehow manage to utter. I pause clearing my throat as I try to think of something interesting to say. “How is work?” Not much but it is the best I can conjure up. “Busy,” she groans. “But I managed to finally get a day off. Which is nice since I hate working on Valentines Day.” “Why?” I question as I furrow my brow. “Well,” she begins in a thoughtful tone. “Normally I don’t mind being single but every February 14th watching the parade of flowers being delivered is such a bummer. It makes me feel like I have some sort of defect just because I haven’t found the right woman yet.” “I know what you mean,” I sigh in agreement. “I use to feel the same way when I worked in an office. Now I that I work at home I only have to watch the neighbors getting gifties. The downside is this time of year I am very busy.” “A lot of folks seeking romance advice?” She questions. “Nothing but,” I explain. “Thankfully I got a jump start on the mail this year. I already sent in my column for Monday.” “Oh?” She questions with a quirk of her head. “So you have tomorrow off as well?” “Yes, I do,” I hear myself saying as my gaze drifts to her very long legs. I shake my head when I realize what I am doing. I glance over at Sharon who is blushing as she tugs on her ear. “Oops,” I curse myself under my breath. “No worries,” she reassures me in a lilting tone. “I did the same thing when I came in.” “Yes, but you managed not to get caught,” I laugh. “I was standing behind you so I think I had an advantage,” she boasts. “You look lovely tonight.” “Thank you,” I blush at the compliment. “So do you. I have a question for you?” “This isn’t about why I called after everything that happened is it?” She stresses. “No,” I beam unable to stop smiling. “How did you sleep on my teeny tiny sofa that night. I barely fit on it you have to have at least half a foot on me.” “First I don’t think that oversized chair qualifies as a sofa and I didn’t sleep,” she shrewdly explains. “And you should know that your cats took over just after you hid in your bedroom. I ended up on the floor counting down the seconds until the train started running.” “I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did,” I offer. “What a night I had no idea how many towing services were employed by the city.” “Me either not an experience I wish to repeat,” she chuckles. “I think our table is ready either that or our waiter is a very strange little man.” “So I was your first blind date?” She continues after we are seated and place our dinner orders. “Yes,” I nod. “I had no idea they could be so interesting.” “I have to confess I’ve been on two other blind dates and ours was the most interesting,” she quips. “Not the worst one but interesting just the same.” “You do know that you are going to explain that don’t you?” I press curious that if my impersonation of a drowned rat wasn’t the bottom of the barrel in the dating world just what is? “My very first blind date was years ago,” Sharon begins with a heavy sigh. “A mutual friend fixed us up and she was nice enough but I just wasn’t interested. There weren’t any sparks. At least that is what I thought she held a drastically different view. She invited me up to her place, I declined she pushed and I declined once again. She called me the following day and asked me out again. I was polite when I refused. She didn’t take the hint finally after calling me every day for a month she took the hint. Now that wasn’t the worst the second one was the worst in the history of blind dates. We met on line and she seemed very interesting. We agreed to meet and I was really looking forward to it.” “What went wrong?” I question eager to hear the details. “Everything,” she grumbles. “First she didn’t look like the picture she had sent me. Not that I found her unattractive or looks were that important but the picture was of another person. I never got a straight answer as to the truth behind that. When we had chatted on line we had a lot in common face-to-face she was nothing like her on line persona. She was rude, crude and generally an annoying individual who picked her teeth all through dinner. Just when I was convinced that she couldn’t possibly be the woman I had chatted with for months she confessed that she only said half the things she said because I sounded hot. Then she hit on me in the crudest fashion and was shocked when I said no. I thanked her for dinner and left. That is when the stalking began, phone calls, persistent emails and showing up at my job. She just wouldn’t stop no matter how many times I told her to take a hike. I finally had to get a restraining order.” “Wow I guess our date wasn’t that bad after all,” I laugh. “Wait then why go out with me the first time and why didn’t you run for the hills when I approached you the second time?” “I was tempted but Sylvia convinced me that you are basically a normal person,” she laughs and I feel myself drawn into the sound of her laughter. “And again most of what went wrong on our first date had more to do with the weather than anything else.” “You never told me how you know Sylvia?” I question silently thanking my friend for sticking up for me even after I told her what a complete disaster my first date with Sharon had been. “She’s my sister,” Sharon blinks with surprise. “Well half sister really. She spent half my life trying to fix me up with guys until I came out. Now she is determined to find the right woman for me.” “Oh my God she tried to fix me up with you five years ago,” I gasp. “We use to work together and the second she found out I was gay she went on and on about her sister.” “Why did you turn her down?” She questions. “Not into fix ups?” “That and at the time I was already seeing someone,” I clarify. “After Ginny and I split up I don’t know what happened I just was happy on my own.” “You haven’t given up have you?” She questions me with a curious glance. “No, just waiting for lightening to strike,” I smile boldly silently wondering if lightening has indeed struck. ‘Only time will tell,’ I silently assess. ************************************************** Dinner and the conversation are delightful so delightful that we stay for dessert and coffee. We talk about everything under the sun she even confesses that she has read my little column. Then more coffee until I notice the waiter leering over us as the rest of the staff went about cleaning up. “How late is it?” I gasp glancing quickly at my watch. “Holy crap,” I gasp as Sharon snags up the check and pays the waiter before I can stop her. “How late is it?” She innocently inquires as she gathers up her coat. “Twelve forty,” I squeak out fully aware this is not good news. “It can’t be,” she stammers as she checks her own watch. “I had no idea. I was having such a good time I completely lost track of the time.” “Your train? Sharon I’m so sorry,” I apologize as I quickly put on my coat. “If we can hail a cab you might be able to catch the last train.” We hurry out to the dark empty snowy streets. “I think a taxi is out of the question,” she grimaces. “I’m sorry,” I apologize once again. “Wendy once again this is not your fault,” she almost laughs. “It was the conversation, the weather or maybe the fates are just trying to tell us something.” “Yeah like it is really costly for you to spend time with me,” I tease feeling completely at ease from the smile she offers. “At the risk of sounding like all of your other dates would you like to come back to my place? I know the sofa and yes technically it is a sofa isn’t very comfortable but at least you’ll be safe and dry until the train starts up in the morning.” “I still say it is an overgrown chair,” she argues. “But yes I really wasn’t looking forward to calling it a night.” During our arduous trek to my humble abode I am plagued by one thought, ‘If I make a pass will she think I’m dim witted hussy?’ We are soaking wet by the time we stumble into my apartment. I release a sigh when I remember that I actually took the time to clean my apartment this weekend. “Well at least it is clean this time,” I laugh as I lock up behind us. “I hardly recognized it without that large pile of laundry,” she teases me as she sheds her coat. “Just my luck the last time was the day before laundry day,” I quickly explain. “Good thing we didn’t get snowed in at my place which is a complete disaster zone at this very moment,” she reassures me. “Speaking of disasters I’m soaking wet.” “The bathroom is right through there I’ll see if I can find you something to wear,” I shout out as I make a mad dash into my bedroom. “Nothing, I have nothing,” I mutter while searching every nook and cranny of my room. “Beg pardon?” I jump at the sound of her voice spinning around my body begins to quiver. There she is standing in my doorway wearing my robe, which is much, too short for her body. “I was just saying that I don’t have anything that will fit you,” I sputter unable to keep my eyes from roaming up and down her body. “Oh,” she nods thoughtfully as she steps shyly into my bedroom. “I guess I will just have to make do with this.” “It is fetching,” I whisper my body temperature slowly rising. “I’m going to change before I do something stupid. Make yourself comfortable.” “In here?” She inquires playfully. “Sharon the reason I have a television in my bedroom is because the sofa is too small for me to curl up on,” I try to reason not missing the amused look in her brilliant blue orbs. “Which leads me to ask why did you buy it?” She taunts me while I gather up something comfortable to sleep in. “This is Boston I’m lucky the cats and I fit in this place,” I shoot back before leaving my guest alone in my bedroom. I am a mess as I stumble about my bathroom. How in the name of all that is sacred did I manage to get a second date with this woman? “Does this count as a second?” I wonder out loud. “Oh boy this is sheer insanity. I have a beautiful woman in my bedroom and I am hiding in the bathroom. Dumb ass.” I trip as I enter the bedroom the sight of her lounging on my bed is like a dream come true. Slight problem with the fantasy pounding in my head and reality we hardly know one another and I’m not even certain this qualifies as a second date. My life just gets stranger and stranger with each passing moment. Thankfully she is busy playing with the remote control and hasn’t noticed my quandary. “Were you talking to yourself in the bathroom?” She asks as she continues to channel surf. “Yes,” I answer truthfully after even thing she witnessed knowing that I talk to myself isn’t going to scare her off. “I was just freaking out a wee bit.” “Over?” She questions with a wry smirk. “Oh little things like is this our second date since personally I think we should just forget about the first one,” I suggest hopefully as I climb up on the bed. “But if this is our first date it would be highly inappropriate for me to be spending the night,” she notes her smirk growing larger. “You did before then again that really wasn’t spending the night that was more like hiding out until the sun rose so you could make your escape,” I theorize. “Still even on a second date spending the night in my bedroom is rushing things. I mean it could be considered rushing things if,” “Yes the big if,” she cuts me off as she captures my hand. “I had the same chat with myself when I was in the powder room.” “Did you come up with a solution?” I plead with her. “No,” she grumbles as she shuts off the television. “I did realize that when you invited me back to your place you weren’t making a pass. We’re snowed in and I need a warm dry place to stay. Why don’t we go with that? Frankly I am enjoying your company and if you had a real sofa I’d be sleeping out there. Not that I don’t want to explore other options.” “I don’t like to rush things either,” I blow out feeling relieved and disappointed. “A night of snuggling and good conversation sounds like fun.” “Just one question,” she starts. “What is that?” She inquires pointing to the large stack of envelopes piled up next to my computer. “Work,” I sigh. “And no you can’t read any of them.” “Ah shucks,” she yawns. “Sleep?” I offer as I pull back the bedding and invite her to join me. “Not my first choice but it would be the prudent course of action,” she reluctantly agrees. “Thank you.” “For?” I respond in confusion. “For taking the chance and explaining things,” she murmurs softly as I snuggle up in her embrace. “Well thank you for not running when I walked into that bar,” I sigh happily. “Good night,” I add tilting my head up so I can catch one last look in her eyes. “Good night,” she huskily responds in a tone that sends a shiver down my spine. Her gaze is smoldering and I can see the fire burning brightly. It mesmerizes me and I am unable to look away. I reach up and cup her cheek in my hand. I shiver when she leans into my touch. She is a stranger but somehow it feels so right touching her lying next to her and feeling her heart beating in unison with my own. I lean closer she follows my movement until our lips brush lightly. It is a shy kiss that warms my entire being. I quickly kiss her again this time it is deeper as I feel her hands drifting along my body. Her touch is inviting her lips soft yet demanding. I stifle the moan that is threatening to escape as I part her lips and begin a sweet exploration of her mouth. “Mmm,” I sigh softly when our kisses finally ebb. As I lace my fingers through her long dark tresses I realize that my body has moved on top of her. It feels right still I need to remind myself that we need to slow things down. “This is the part where we uh,” she struggles as she gazes up at me her eyes sparkling and I feel myself being drawn back to her. “Right,” I clear my throat forcing my mind to start functioning before my body completely takes over. “This would be the part where we stop before we do things get out of hand.” “I hate that part,” she groans as I slip from her embrace. “Good night.” “Good night,” I sigh happily snuggling up against her warm inviting body. **************************************************** Last night I slept better than I have in years. At this very moment I am looking down at my slumbering companion thinking that it isn’t fair that she can look so adorable at this hour. Her arms are wrapped tightly around my body as I ponder just how I am going to slip out of her embrace so I can sneak into the bathroom brush my teeth and fix my hair all before she wakes up? “Where are you going?” Her raspy voice questions as I try to make my move. “Me?” I feign innocence as her eyes slowly open and I am greeted by an amazing smile. “You weren’t going to sneak off and freshen up now were you?” She accuses me. “Yes,” I concede. “I’m was just trying to level the playing field. It really isn’t fair that you look positively gorgeous when you wake up.” “Right?” She laughs not believing me. “I speak the truth,” I poke her playfully. “How about I get up and make us some coffee.” “Stay?” She sheepishly suggests. “I would but my cats have been circling the bed for the past hour,” I grumble. “If I don’t get up and feed them there is going to be an all out attack.” “Fine,” she sighs her body tightens against my own. “Morning.” “Good morning,” I blush before stealing a kiss. “Happy Valentines Day.” “Happy Valentines Day,” she echoes before capturing my lips in a searing kiss. The fiery kiss is disrupted when two large beast pounce on the bed. “Told you,” I laugh reluctantly dragging my body from her embrace. I am like a mad woman racing towards the kitchen and feeding my demanding pets. Once the girls have been tended to I sneak into the bathroom and clean up. Then I sneak back into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. I snicker when I hear the water running in the bathroom. When I return to the bedroom she is propped up watching television pretending that she didn’t sneak off to brush her teeth. “How do you take your coffee?” I inquire enjoying the view of her lounging in my bed. “Black,” she smirks once again I am captivated by her smile. “Wendy? Does today qualify as a date?” “That would be the magic number three,” I slowly begin my heart racing at the implication. “The third one is of course the pivotal date,” I theorize as I climb up onto the bed. “I know,” she concurs as I creep closer to her. “Number three is when you start wondering do I want to take this to the next level and is tonight the night. Does she want to take it to the next level?” “You try to act casual,” I continue. “All the while dropping hints and sexual innuendoes.” “Trying desperately to figure out if she is interested,” Sharon finishes. “And if she is how safe does the sex have to be?” I confirm. “That awkwardness of trying to slip in the details of your last physical and trying to find out about hers. Dating is such a strange ritual.” “Normally,” she offers with a quirk of her head that I find enchanting. “It is safe to say that nothing about our dates has been normal.” “True,” I readily agree as I tug the blankets down revealing more of her body. “This is the part where one of us has to say or do something,” I encourage as I straddle her body dipping my head closer until I can feel her breath mingling with my own. Her hands clasp my hips as she guides me closer. “When I asked you out again I was thinking that this is either going to be the most romantic thing that has ever happened to me or,” she tries to explain. “Or a complete disaster,” I gasp feeling her hands slipping beneath the tattered t-shirt I am wearing. The time for talking is over the only thing that matters to me at this moment in time is feeling her soft lips caressing my own. She grants my silent request her tongue teasing my bottom lip. I eagerly part my lips inviting her in. I moan into the warmth of her mouth feeling her hands caressing my skin. I slip my hand between our bodies and undo the knot on her robe. I brush aside the robe eager to feel more of her body. The kiss deepens as I feel her flesh quivering from my touch. She releases a feral groan when my fingers brush against the swell of her breasts. A part of me is wondering if this is all a dream. She pushes me up and I help her remove my top and then my boxer shorts. She guides me onto my back I am filled with a nervous excitement as I lay before her completely exposed. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers while dragging her blunt nails along my naked flesh. Her words and touch are my undoing no matter what happens after today I know that I need to make love to her. Perhaps the fates did destine this moment. I don’t know all I am aware of is how good it feels to run my hands along her body. I inhale sharply; her lips blaze a trail along my chin while her hands explore my body. I tug the robe from her body before pressing my naked flesh against hers. The feel of our bodies melding together is pure bliss. I can’t stop kissing her as my hands refuse to be idle. I can feel her harden nipples teasing my flesh as her kisses drift lower. Every touch and caress burns my skin. My body succumbs willingly to the sensation of her mouth and tongue feasting upon my breasts. My mind is confused still unbelieving that this beautiful creature even gave me a second glance and now we are making love. “God if I am dreaming don’t let me wake up,” I pant my body reeling from the feel of her long hair tickling my flesh as she descends further down my body. “This isn’t a dream,” she purrs as she nestles her body between my legs. The room is spinning her hands clasp my backside. I can feel her breath caressing my thighs taunting my wetness. She murmurs softly her tongue teasing my quivering flesh. My eyes flutter shut my body twitching as my passion grows. I claw at the bedding ready to jump out of my skin when I feel her tongue dipping into my wetness. Her touch is slow and deliberate as her tongue glides against my throbbing sex. My thoughts are jumbled the only thing I can focus upon is how good it feels to be touched by this woman and how much I want to touch her. I drape my legs over her broad shoulders pressing the heels of my feet into her back as I press my wetness harder against her. She eagerly accepts my offer suckling my throbbing clit into the warmth of her mouth. I want to tell her how incredible this moment is and how much I want to make love to her. The words fail to emerge only my body can respond thrusting wildly as she drinks from me. Again her touch is maddeningly slow and I am ready to explode. I try to summon the words still nothing emerges only strangled pleas. My body rocks wildly when I feel her fingers pressing against the opening of my warm wet center. My body convulses as she slips inside of me. Her fingers and mouth move in a perfect rhythm until I am adrift my ears ringing and my body shuddering. The passion rips through me and I feel my soul shattering as she takes me higher. I feel at one with the mattress as my vision and thoughts finally clear. Sharon is nestled beside me her hands caressing my stomach. She is sporting a very proud smile. After all of the twists and turns, the near disasters and semantics we toyed with I think I knew that I would end up in her arms. Still I am completely mystified as to just how all of this came to be. “Who cares?” I sigh happily before laugh at the perplexed look in her eyes. “About?” She tentatively inquires. “How this happened,” I try to clarify. “How did I meet a truly incredible woman and get off to such a bad start did I end up making love to her?” “Maybe this was meant to be,” she reasons as I clasp her broad shoulders. “You’re the one who keeps talking about the fates. Think about it. You worked with my sister we probably almost met at least dozens times before.” “No,” I snicker while guiding her down. “The fates are the ones that keep messing with me. Normally they have a very twisted sense of humor.” “Or they were paving the way for us to get together,” she playfully argues as her hands clasps my hips. “Interesting,” I chuckle quickly dismissing her theory. I have more important things on my mind. I bestow longing kisses on her supple lips as I allow my hands to explore her body. The soft needy gasps she releases further fuel my desires. I gasp with pleasure when my fingers brush against her passion. “So wet,” I murmur happily as I part her slick folds allowing her wetness to spill over me. She clings to my body as I slowly stroke her. My name is the only words she can utter as I tease the throbbing bundle. Our bodies fall into a sensual rhythm and I am teasing her harder. I keep kissing her as I feel her body tensing. She is nearing the edge and I am unable to resist taking her there. Our bodies become one as she explodes crying out so loudly my cats flee in search of shelter. I can’t stop touching her needing to feel all of her. Sharon chants my name over and over again until all she can utter is sharp gasps before she collapses beneath me. *********************************************************** We made love into the night until she finally had to force herself to leave. It was an incredible Valentines Day. After she left I did find myself fearing that it was just one glorious night and Sharon would slip from my life. I was wrong and one year later I am waiting in the same restaurant where we met on that disastrous night. I love that she is sentimental. Honestly I love everything about her. So if you want my advice if you are looking for love stop looking. It just happens like a freak snowstorm and sometimes it happens because of a freak snowstorm. The End. Send comments to yomavis@email.com For updates, previews & the Wednesday Afternoon Series join my egroup, yomavis-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

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