Plath's Place

This is for the ladies. This story is very different than my last. This is a romance. So you macho "wimp haters" don't waste your time reading this. I tried to get in touch with my feminine side while writing this one. It is for the female reader. I hope it is good. I really want some feedback from the ladies on this little tale.

She was so nervous that her stomach felt queasy and her legs rubbery. Her mind seemed detached from her body as she entered the club. She had been here two months earlier, so she was familiar with the layout and the decor. But it was different this time. Two months ago it had been mid-afternoon and the place was almost empty. She had taken off work early that day. Her husband would be working late so she had decided to stop off for a drink. It had been a bitch of a morning at work. She has seen the sign that read 'Plath's Place', and since Sylvia Plath was her favorite poet, she decided to stop. A drink would help her unwind. Then she would go home fix dinner and wait for her husband.

This time it was 10:00 at night and the club was crowded. The atmosphere inside wasn't raucous, but music was playing and the rituals of people having fun, meeting, talking, pairing off, and enjoying each other's company were obvious.

She straightened her dark silk skirt one last time and entered, heading towards the ivory colored bar. It was so strange to be in a club that wasn't dark, heavy and masculine. This place clearly had a feminine touch. The decor was also sophisticated and literary. Not surprising, given the name over the door. Sort of a 'nightlife at Vassar College' look.

Two months earlier she had entered the club, enjoyed the light airiness of the place, and had sat at this same bar. She had ordered a Daiquiri from the barmaid. She had almost finished the drink, sitting there lost in thought before she realized. The only male in the place was an octogenarian slowly pushing a broom across the polished tile floors. The few other patrons were all women. Most looked very much like her, busy professionals taking a mid-afternoon break. The realization that she was in a lesbian club caused her to sit up with a jerk.

The barmaid noticed and with a knowing smile said, "It's OK, nobody will bother you."

Noticing the ring on her finger the attractive server added, "a lot of married women come in here during the day. They find it peaceful, and they don't have to worry about some guy making a jerk of himself and ruining the few minutes they have to relax."

She visibly relaxed and the barmaid moved to another female patron who had just entered. She enjoyed the peaceful surroundings. She hummed softly to the canned string quartet music and finished her drink. She felt an unusual calm. She felt as if she fit here.

It was a wonderful, but disquieting feeling.

As she paid for her drink and stood to leave, the barmaid said, "please come back, but I wouldn't suggest that you come here in the late evening on the weekend." She gave the barmaid a surprised look. "Listen, you are very attractive and would certainly be very popular with the night crowd. So be sure you know what you are looking for before you come back then."

Over the next few weeks she had not been able to get the thought of "Plath's Place" out of her mind. She didn't go back to the club, but found herself thinking all sorts of strange thoughts (strange for her) during quiet times. She began to look at her female co-workers a little differently, even a few of her friends.

Now here she was. It was a Friday night and she could feel several sets of eyes on her as she stood at the bar. The same barmaid she had seen before took her order.

When her drink came, she almost whispered, "Do you remember me?"

The barmaid cast an appraising eye over the woman and said, "I think so. Weren't you in here a couple of months ago. I'm surprised to see you here on a Friday night."

The last sentenced was delivered as the barmaid nodded towards her left hand. Looking down she noticed the light reflecting from her rings. The barmaid had noticed them too.

"Don't worry," the barmaid continued, "you will get hit on, but nobody in here will cross any line you don't want crossed. We don't cater to the 'butch leather' crowd so relax. But be honest, if your not interested just say so. If you are unsure about yourself don't string anybody along. That will piss people off. By the way what's your name?"

"Mrs. Francis McD....." She caught herself. "Sorry, Hi, I'm Fran."

The barmaid said, "I'm Rose. And the first drink is on the house tonight Fran. Relax, have fun and I'll keep my eye on you. OK"

"Thanks," Fran responded feeling better.

Taking a sip of her drink Fran began to relax. The earth hadn't opened, the world hadn't ended, she was OK. Nothing bad had happened. The feeling of peace that she felt two months ago returned to the 30 year-old wife and businesswoman. Finally she felt secure enough to look around the club. There were small groups of women seated at tables talking and laughing. Five or six couple danced to a moderately paced classic rock song on the small dance floor. The women ranged in age from early twenties to over fifty. The younger women dressed in jeans and tank tops, the older women, like her were in dressier clothes. Some wore pantsuits, some skirts and blouses, others in designer dresses. Everyone was attractive and like her, appeared upper-middle class.

Fran's act of looking about the room must have sent some kind of signal.

Almost immediately she was approached by a sophisticated looking woman who slide next to her and said, "Hello, I haven't seen you in here before."

Fran almost choked on her drink. How many times had some man said the exact same thing to her?

"Hello," Fran replied.

"Are you from out of town?"

"Well I live in the suburbs, and I've only been here once before."

"I'm Betty, would you like to sit at my table....Ah ...I didn't hear your name."

"I'm Fran. Thank you Betty, but I think I'll stay here for a while."

Without another word, Betty turned and headed down the bar towards another newcomer.

Rose stopped by on her way to re-fill a drink. "Smart Fran, Betty hovers around looking for new-bees. You sized her up. I guess I don't have to worry about you."

Fran smiled at Rose, and for a moment tried to imagine what it would feel like to hold the sexy barmaid.

Rose could read the glance. "Fran....Fran.....hey, I like you, but I'm in a relationship. Just relax, you will meet someone if you really want to." With that comment Rose was off to a customer at the other end of the bar.

"Hey, wow Mrs. McDermott, I'm surprised to see you in here."

Fran turned and was face to face with a familiar young face.

"Remember me, I'm Kelly. I was an intern in your office last year. Well, I graduated and am working full-time downtown now. How are you doing? You were so nice to me..."

The effervescent young woman was talking a mile a minute. Fran didn't have time to respond. Despite a moment of concern about being recognized Fran quickly relax again. After all Kelly didn't know any of her friends and certainly didn't have any contact with her boss, who was the President of the company.

"Congratulations on graduating and getting a job Kelly."

"I thought you were married Mrs. McDermott. Hey do you want to dance? That will make my friend crazy jealous, you are the best looking person in here...."

Fran was dizzy with the endless chatter. "Well, 'in for a penny in for a pound'," Fran thought to herself. Besides Kelly was safe, and apparently was here with someone.

"Kelly stop!" Fran laughed at the young woman. "Yes, I'll dance with you, but only if you slow down and take a breath."

Kelly blushed and apologized. The song was a slow one. At first Fran was glad. She hadn't danced fast in years and didn't even know the current dance style, but then she realized that she would have to hold Kelly close. She stood up and walked with Kelly to the rapidly filling dance floor. She felt an electric shock when Kelly grabbed her hand and pulled her into an embrace.

Well that problem was solved. She wouldn't have to worry about holding Kelly, Kelly was holding her. The young woman was about 4 inches taller than Fran's diminutive 5'2". Kelly had placed a hand on each of Fran's hips and pulled their bodies together. Fran, unsure of what to do, eventually placed her hands on Kelly shoulders. Kelly wore a tank top with string straps. The feel of the young woman's cool skin on her sensitive palms jolted Fran. The wife stared at Kelly's chin. She was very aware of Kelly's youthful, firm breasts as they rested on top of her own medium sized chest. Fran wore a bra, but knew that Kelly did not. Her dance partner's jersey tank top had prominent bumps on the front. After a few moments, Kelly removed her hands from Fran's hips, took her hands into her own, and placed the 30-year old wife's arms around her neck. Then the young woman gently pressed Fran's face against her upper chest and returned her hands to Fran's hips. They only stayed for a moment. Soon Kelly encircled Fran's waist and squeezed her closer. A soft sigh escaped the young woman's lips as the two women rocked gently in place.

Fran felt herself going limp. God, this is wonderful she thought to herself. Suddenly she realized that one of the reasons that this was so comfortable was that there was no hard erection between their two bodies. When she danced like this with a man, there was always that insistent hardness that ruined the moment. Even with her husband, who she truly loved, the hard appendage always ruined the mood. It was a presence that would not let a woman simply enjoy the dance. Fran felt that the hard cock was always screaming at her. "SEE ME, I'M HARD AND AROUSED, YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO DEAL WITH ME AT SOME POINT." But with Kelly she found herself enjoying the dance and the embrace. She was even getting used to the soft pillowy feel of the breasts pressed against her.

Fran reflected on her life in the comfort of Kelly arms. Yes, she loved David. They had met 6 years ago. She, an up and coming corporate manager, he, the smart blue-jeaned, techy, keeping the computer systems running. He was not intimidated by her, even thought he was a year and a half-younger. He wore his hair long and thumbed his nose at the "suits." That is not to say he was a jerk. He was methodical and planned everything. He often joked that he was so organized that Computers were the only "people" who could work with him. He was also very loving. He was the most tenderhearted men Fran knew. Unlike a lot of 'teckies', he worked out, loved sports and was very handsome under all that hair, moustache and beard. They had just celebrated their 5th anniversary. But, both of their careers had taken a toll on the time they had together. In fact, David had been gone for 3 weeks working on a systems interface problem at their European branch.

Fran was startled back to reality when she heard a voice over her shoulder, "Old friend my ass, Kelly."

The two women broke the embrace and turned to face the voice. "Oh come on, Beth." Kelly quickly hugged the girl to her. Much to Fran's surprise Kelly gave the girl a long, open-mouthed kiss. Then she winked at Fran.

"Thanks for the dance, Mrs. McDermott. Do you want to sit with us?"

"Thanks Kelly, I think I will. If it is OK with Beth!"

"I guess. You are not interested in Kelly are you?"

Fran laughed, "I don't know what I'm interested in, but no, Kelly is a bit young for me. I enjoyed the dance though."

Fran retrieved her drink from the bar. She didn't see Rose so she left the bar and walked over the table. Kelly pulled out a chair for her then joined Beth on the other side of the table. That seemed to calm Beth.

Fran scanned the room from the safety of the table. She noticed that a tall slender blonde woman in a black cocktail dress was entering the club. The woman was graceful and lean. The dress had a low cut back. So low that the swell of her buttocks were almost exposed. Fran could see a faint white strap tan line across the tanned back, from a bikini top. Long masses of wavy blonde hair that fell to her shoulders partially covering the woman's face. A wide black matching cloth choker encircled the long neck.

The sight of the woman captivated Fran.

"Oh, looks like Mrs. McDermott is smitten," an observant Kelly laughed.

Fran turned to the girls and blushed.

"Hey, it's OK. She is beautiful and she looks like your type. You should go up and say hello to her. I've never seen her in here before."

Fran couldn't make herself move.

"Opps, too late. Betty is already zeroing in on her."

Fran looked back to the bar and saw the newcomer deep in conversation with the hard looking older woman.

They sat at the table for a few minutes. Kelly was talking non-stop about her new job.

Fran noticed that the shark Betty was dancing with the newcomer. The older woman's hands were gently caressing the buttocks of the woman.

Kelly finally said to the distracted Fran, "Mrs. McDermott, why don't you dance with Beth? Then after awhile you can cut in and dance with her." She nodded towards the couple on the dance floor. After a while I'll rescue Beth from Betty."

Beth said, "Why do I have to dance with Betty? She is all hands."

Kelly smiled sweetly at Beth, "OK honey, I'll do it. It will give me a chance to dance some more with Mrs. McDermott." Then Kelly gave Fran what could only be described as 'a smoldering look.'

"OK, OK , I'll do it," Beth exclaimed. She was still a bit unsure and maybe a little jealous of her lover's and Fran's relationship.

Fran stood and Kelly whispered something into Beth's ear as she stood. In moments the two were dancing. Fran didn't fumble with the movement this time. She found herself in a tight embrace with the young Beth. They were close to the same size so their breasts flattened against each other.

"I can see why Kelly likes you. You are beautiful," Beth whispered into the wife's ear.

Fran inhaled the fragrance of her partner. Beth smelled like a spring garden, lavender and rose. Fran found herself wondering what Beth would look like naked.

Beth seemed in no hurry to stop dancing, so it was several long minutes before they found themselves dancing next to Betty and the blonde that had caught Fran's attention.

"This is so incredible," Fran remarked out loud. "I have danced and been held by two beautiful women and I want more."

Beth laughed, "Be careful Mrs. McDermott, being with a beautiful, tender woman will change your whole perspective. Be sure it is what you want."

After another moment of dancing Beth said, "OK are you ready? Listen when we cut in you will need to take the lead. Betty is dancing with that poor Fem as if she is directing traffic. Can you do that?"

"I'll try," she stuttered. Fran was shocked by the use of the word 'Fem'. But it must be accurate. Her friend and beautician, Carol Higgins, had used the word several weeks ago when that had talked privately about Fran's unsettling new feelings.

Fran had known Carol since high school. While Fran had gone to college and into the corporate world, Carol had gotten married and gone to beautician's school. Fran liked her even though they were so different. Carol was down to earth and "told it like it is." That was refreshing for Fran. Day after day she dealt with the corporate politics and backstabbing. Carol was a breath of fresh air. The hairdresser Carol was like a psychologist or a good bartender. She heard everything, but never gossiped. Fran, like many of her clients, used Carol as a sounding board and a place to vent frustrations.

Carol had been honest with Fran about her friend's revelations. "Hey some nights when Charley comes to bed, grunts, and wants to stick it in me, I think about kicking his ass out and finding a soft woman to love. Don't feel guilty, most women think about it from time to time. At least most of the women who come in here. Your only problem is David. He is a sweetheart, you wouldn't want to mess up your relationship with him." At a later appointment the subject had come up again. "You really have this in your head, don't you Fran?" Carol had commented.

"I can't get it out of my head," Fran replied

"Let me think about it. I'll ask some of my clients who go both ways and get some anonymous advice for you."

"Thanks, Carol you are a lifesaver."

Fran was pulled from her thoughts. "We are cutting in Betty," Beth exclaimed.

Beth leaned forward and kissed Fran hard on the lips, even running her tongue quickly into the surprised wife's mouth. Beth's tongue tasted so sweet, not at all like the heavy musk tasting tongue of a male. Suddenly Fran's arms were empty. Despite promising herself not to bumble, she found herself facing the blonde woman feeling very awkward and still recovering from Beth's kiss.

Beth danced away with a fuming Betty and called out to Fran, "Have fun."

"Do you want to dance?" Fran finally got out.

The blonde, her blonde hair draped sexily across her face nodded shyly and stood waiting for Fran to take the lead.

Remembering what Kelly had done, Fran placed her hands on the waist of the woman. She could feel a tight corset/bra under the dress. Of course a bra like that was necessary for a dress with such a low back. She allowed her hands to touch the skin on the woman's lower back. It was if electricity shot into her fingers. The woman was easily 6 inches taller than Fran, probably about 5'8". Fran was frightened; her emotions were running wild. Her knees were week and stomach was in knots. She wished she had eaten something before she had had her drinks. She dare not look up into the blonde's face. All she could do was flatten her body against the woman and began to lead the taller woman around the dance floor. She rested her face against the woman shoulder and took stock of her partner. The woman's breasts were small, but firm. Fran's hips pressed tightly and could feel strong legs surrounding that vacant hole between lower belly and upper thighs.

Fran's breath quickened. The woman leaned forward and pressed her lips to Fran's ear. A soft delicate tongue gently licked her lobe. "OH God," Fran thought, "Oh God." The woman's arms encircled her.

"Please can we sit down," Fran begged. "It's too much. I need to think. I...."

The two women moved side by side to the empty table. Kelly and Beth were now dancing and Betty was hovering around like a vulture.

Fran literally clasped into her chair next to her dancing partner. She leaned back resting on the chair back, trying to calm down. The blonde leaned forward placing her arms on the tabletop. Fran finally composed herself enough to look over at the woman. The woman raised a hand and brushed the wavy hair from the side of her face. The hair was thick and luxuriant. A long crystal earring was momentarily exposed swinging gently, then the heavy hair swung back into place hiding the jewelry and the side of the face.

Betty was moving towards their table. Fran, in a panic, not wanting to loose this opportunity, sat up, reached her arms around the seated blonde and hugged herself tightly to the exposed skin of the woman's back. Fran buried her cheek into the soft hair. The blonde tresses smelled of aloe and the soft skin beneath her chin had the fragrance of a delicate soap. Fran held on tight. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she willed Betty away. In fact, she willed the world away. She needed this woman. She needed to be held by her. Fran needed to know.

She didn't know what was happening. She was standing and being held by an arm around her waist. Her feet were moving. The sounds of 'Plath's Place" were fading. She could feel cool air on her arms and legs. She slowly opened her eyes. It was dark. She heard a car door open. Now she was sitting. Her head back against the seat rest. Wait, this was her car. How....? Why....?