The Girl I Didn't Know

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Don't I know you from somewhere?
2.2k words
4.5
29.2k
14

Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/11/2022
Created 01/02/2008
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The evening had not been the triumphant celebration of my friend Alexi's book deal that I'd hoped. Or rather, it had, but somewhere along the way the party left me behind. Alex usually relished her role of "wingman," almost to a fault. But tonight, understandably, she was too busy basking in the accolades to worry about whether I was going home alone tonight. And from all the attention she was getting, it looked like she was going to be too busy later for there to be any chance of our consoling one another, as occasionally happened.

I was at the "one beer too many" stage when I saw Alex from halfway across the room. She pushed the corners of her lips up with her fingers in the universal "smile!" gesture. Then stuck her tongue out at me. I had to laugh at that, but all the same it made me think the best thing for me to do was to wade through the room one more time, congratulate Alex, kiss her on the cheek, and go home to see what was on Cinemax later.

I was almost there, and waiting in line behind some blowhard talking about how Alex should have negotiated harder, when a tall, thin woman in a silk dress put her hand on my arm. It startled me a little, and I turned her way.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but aren't you a professor at George Mason?" she asked.

"Uh, sorry, no..." I could see the blowhard running out of air, especially since Alex was taking it out of him at every turn. People wonder why I don't go for more than just friendship with a hottie like Alex - the truth is she scares the hell out of me.

The woman turned to leave. "Sorry to bother you, then." I got a bit better look at her, and as I did this a short woman who shouldn't have been wearing anything strapless snuck in behind the blowhard to talk to Alex. The woman who thought I was at George Mason, on the other hand, was trim, curvy, and wearing a green dress that matched her eyes and set off her curly blonde hair. Wearing glasses, like about 90 percent of us in the room, but hers were expensive-looking ones that set off those lovely green eyes.

"Sorry, didn't mean it like that." I said. "I don't teach at George Mason, but I used to teach at Loyola. I gave it all up and started writing full-time a few years ago. Maybe you've seen me at book events?" She was beginning to look familiar to me too.

"Maybe..." she said doubtfully.

"Hang on," I said, putting my hand on her arm. "I'm trying to speak to Alex here. She's a friend of mine. Would you like me to introduce you?"

"Sure."

Mercifully, the short woman's fawning didn't last long, and I was able to get Alex's attention. I used this excuse to take the woman by the hand. "This is Alexi Morgan, a friend and writing buddy of mine who, I'm proud to say, has just signed the book deal of the century," I said, kissing Alex on the cheek.

"Hi," the woman said. I was hoping she would say her name at this point, since I obviously didn't have a clue, but she didn't. "Good luck with your book!"

"Thank you!" Alex said. "Does your friend have a name?" she asked me in a stage whisper.

"Well, we just met. Or rather, we're both trying to place each other." I said to the woman: "Sorry, help me out here."

"It's Tabitha. Tabitha Wilson. My friends call me Tabby."

"Meoww," Alex said. She may have had one too many of those fruity drinks that kept circling by. "Well, has my memory-impaired friend introduced himself, at least?"

"We were working on some theories just now," Tabitha said, "but nothing's clicking."

"Sorry. I'm Gordon Wainwright."

"That's it. I've placed you now."

"Really?"

"Commissioner Gordon. Hangs around with Batman."

"Oh-key," Alex said, and disappeared.

"Ha ha. No," I said, wishing I had gotten to talk with Alex a bit more, and trying not to roll my eyes. "Wait - did you ever go to the library at Loyola? I worked there some when I was teaching."

"No, I pretty much stuck to the one at George Mason. Ours was better."

"Thanks."

"Well, for my subjects."

"Okay, Tabitha, we've gotten as far as our names, anyway. Want to go somewhere and figure out where we might know each other from? It's too noisy in here to think." Which was a line, but had the added virtue of being true.

"Have you had dinner?"

We left the art gallery which was hosting the party and walked down a few blocks towards a Lebanese place I knew. "Do you live around here?" I asked.

"Just a few blocks west," she said.

"Me too. Maybe I've seen you in the neighborhood?"

"Doubt it. I'm always gone, and I bet I haven't taken two walks in the neighborhood since I got here."

"Oh." I said this rather flatly, because not only was that another dead end, but I had caught sight of the large numbers of people waiting outside the restaurant as we walked up.

"Oh," she said in the same tone of voice. "Do you like Chinese?"

"Yes, but I haven't found a Chinese restaurant around here I like."

"Me neither. I was going to suggest that I cook us something. I actually own my own wok."

"You own your own wok?"

"My own wok."

We stopped by a little grocery store for some noodles and some plum wine, then walked over to her apartment building. "I know this place!" I said as we walked up the steps.

"Really?" she asked. "Maybe you've seen me here then?"

"How long have you lived here?"

"About six months."

"Nope, I wouldn't have. I haven't been here since..." I trailed off.

"Since when?" she smiled, not wanting to let me off the hook.

"My girlfriend who lived here broke up with me."

"Ah," she said, a little uncertainly. She let us in and we put down the groceries.

"What can I do to help?" I said, trying not to seem like a man whose girlfriend breaks up with him for being unhelpful, anyway.

"Just open the wine and help me figure out where I know you from," she said. "I'm just making a simple noodle dish. Won't take a second."

"What's it called?"

"Longevity noodles. The glasses are over there, thanks. So maybe I know you from your books. Have I seen your books at the bookstore?"

"If you mean Borders or Barnes and Noble, not likely. I write History. I've been collaborating on a textbook for the past year."

"So much for that."

"Sorry," I grinned, handing her a glass of wine. "So what do you do?"

"Well, I don't normally admit this on the first date, but I'm kind of a trust fund baby and professional student. Come to think of it, I don't usually admit that to myself..." she muttered.

"Nothing wrong with that. We Americans are too obsessed with earning a living." I trailed off into one of my monologues about the historical trend toward identifying oneself with one's profession before remembering that it had cost me at least one second date, and a couple of thirds. "So what's your major? Anything to do with history?"

"Kind of."

"That's probably it! Until this year, I used to go all over town lecturing on early 20th century history - the Great War"

"I'm focusing on history of textile design. My dream is to be a furniture designer."

"Oh," I said, noticing the covering on the sofa I'd been sitting on. "Well, this covering is nice. I like the colors in this weave. Your design?"

"No, got it at T.J. Maxx," she said in a near-menacing tone. But when I looked up at her she was smiling at me. She sat down beside me on the couch. "It's ready."

"Okay, one more thing. Take off your glasses."

"You don't like my glasses?"

"I love your glasses. But maybe seeing you without them will jar something loose."

"Oh, really?" she said, coyly. She held her face up to me, and I gently took her glasses off.

"Nope," I said, kissing her. "I don't think I've ever seen you before in my life."

She kissed back. "I'm still not giving up. I've seen you somewhere. Let's eat."

"Delicious. Thank you," I said, as I got up and started moving the dishes over to the sink. She got up with me and we loaded the two dishes and forks into the dishwasher.

"Let's go back to the couch. I'm going to figure it out. What vet do you use?" she asked. I had briefly seen a cat before he or she scampered off for parts unknown.

"No pets."

I sat down, and she settled back against me. "Where do you shop for groceries, usually?"

"Kroger."

"Eh. Publix, here," she sighed as I started massaging her shoulders through the thin material of her dress.

"Religion?"

"Catholic. St. John's," she said, undoing some buttons and letting the dress off her shoulders, revealing a black bra.

"Episcopalian, myself, when I go," I said, rubbing bare skin now.

"Oh, sweet lord," she said, pushing back against the palms of my hands. Her dress was around her waist, and I was working on the clasp on her bra. It came loose, and she held it up against her breasts as she turned around to face me. "Do you play tennis?" she asked, the bra still clutched against her as she started to unbutton my shirt.

"I'm afraid not," I said, undoing my cuffs and pulling her bra away. Her breasts swayed against my bare chest.

"Me neither," she moaned as I began to suck on one of her erect pink nipples. "You're starting to confuse me. I'll never figure it out."

"You're kind of confusing me too," I admitted, pulling up her skirt to reveal silk stockings and black silk panties. I caressed her bottom as she began taking my belt and trousers off.

"Maybe if we go lie down," she offered. She didn't have to ask twice. We shed clothing during the short walk to her bedroom. I was totally naked; she was down to her lacy thigh-high stockings and glasses.

I got under the covers with her and ran my hands down her flat stomach. Finding a wonderfully smooth, slick slit between her legs, I began to greedily explore with my hand as she cupped my balls and cock. When I was almost ready to explode from the attention, I crawled down and began to lap at her juices. She put her silk-clad legs over my back and began to rock her way to an orgasm. My tongue swirled over her clit and disappeared into her opening, then around her lips. She had a slight salt tang, and it was divine. She started to come, and nearly suffocated me as she drove my head down with her legs and hands.

When we came up for air, she sighed contentedly. "Well, Gordon, whoever you are, you can call me Tabby now."

"Okay, Tabby. I just hope you weren't one of my students, but we've already covered that idea, and maybe the statute of limitations has run out anyway," I panted.

"Oh, dear, I haven't worn you out, have I? Just lie back," she instructed, and got on top of me. I went in slowly; she was wet and open, but squeezing me with her tight, toned pussy muscles every inch of the way. "Mmmm, so good," she lay down on top of me and moaned in my ear. "It's been so long."

I started nippling and sucking on her nipples, taking each one in turn, back and forth. She began to moan, and ride me faster and faster. "ooHH, fuck - OH!" she cried, and convulsed in wave after wave.

When she recovered, she picked up my cock, miraculously still erect. "Still haven't come, Gordon? Relax, sweetie," she said, and began to suck on it like an artist. Her tongue swirled around the head as she picked up speed. I tried to warn her I was coming, and she muttered "I know," around my pulsing cock as she swallowed my come.

She gave me a lingering kiss on the lips and went off to the kitchen for some water. Returning with glasses of ice water for both of us, she handed me one and said "I've got good news and bad news."

"What's the good news?"

"I've finally placed you."

"Where?"

"That's the bad news. I saw you at our last family reunion in Virginia."

When I got back to my apartment Alex was sitting on my couch in my bathrobe, her dark hair wet, drinking Merlot.

"Didn't expect to see you here," I said, slowly.

"I wasn't sure I'd see you here, either. I just needed to get away from an admirer I couldn't shake, and I was too close to being drunk to drive to my place. You don't mind?"

"No problem." I sank down on the couch and put my head in her lap. She began to stroke my hair.

"So how did you make out with the blonde? Did you ever place her?"

"She finally remembered. We're second cousins."

"And when did you figure this out?" she asked, laughing before I could even open my mouth. "Too late, from the looks of you. So I guess that's a dead end?"

"I'm thinking it over," I mused. "Straight girls are so hard to find in this neighborhood."

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5 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 11 years ago
Nice

Really well done, as a research student I loved the line about biting down on his history lecture to avoid costing the second date ;)

adamgunnadamgunnover 12 years ago
One of the best I've read on here

"No, got it at T.J. Maxx," made me laugh out loud. Thanks so much

cinnamon_kisses12cinnamon_kisses12about 16 years ago
Haha

What a perfect conclusion to an interesting story! I can't express just how hard I laughed when he finally realized they were related! Excellent!

ChocolateConfessorChocolateConfessorabout 16 years ago
Hilarious!

Great story! Nice pacing, good passion...and an ending that you don't see coming.

Plus, who hasn't wondered if I'm going to see this woman at some family function later...

voluptuary_manquevoluptuary_manqueabout 16 years ago
No problem!

Really funny story! And second cousins are no problem. They won't even qualify for the "incest/taboo" category on Lit. :D

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