A Chance Meeting Ch. 01

A chance meeting between to two friends

(This is my first story. It is about A young woman's journey of discovery. About how she learns about herself and her desires and her struggle for love and acceptance. There are some sexual situations here, but not many. if you are looking for intense sexual encounters, this first chapter will not be satisfying.

I have tried to set the stage and give you a background to enter my imagination and meet my main characters, two women, born and raised in the same small town and friends from birth. I hope if you have a little patience and see how they grow and change as they discover themselves. I would love to hear your comments and even suggestions for future chapters just be kind in your critiques as I am very new at this.)

Thank you

----- Maggie

Where do I begin? I guess as in all good stories the beginning would be best. I had been friends with Margo for as long as I could remember. Our mothers, Amanda and Susan, were friends before us and had met in the hospital labor room waiting to deliver their first babies. Both women were just out of high school, old enough to have babies of their own, but hardly ready for the responsibility of being a parent.

Both girls had lived similar lives and had similar expectations about their roles as women, as wives and now new mothers. Susan, Blond haired, blue eyed and fair skinned, and Amanda, darker in hair and eye color, had been groomed by their own mothers to see the world through the old fashioned conservative lens of their community. No thoughts of college or a career, they were expected to marry as soon as possible after graduation from high school, raise a family and care for them, just like their moms had done.

Don't get me wrong they were happy. Only women from the big cities had careers and worked outside the home. Everyone living in their small town knew a woman's real life revolved around her family and the close female friends she made. Every one of the girls in their small circle of friends thought the same way. They each were very outgoing and made friends easily in High school taking part in the many in school and after school programs.

They both had gotten good grades in all their academic classes, but their real focus had been on their home economics classes and learning to sew, cook and clean. By the time they graduated they were in love with their high school sweetheart and ready to marry and care for their future family. This was their life and just how it was supposed to be.

The small labor room of the local hospital became the ideal place to make a new friend. The two were amazed to discover thet had gone to the same school, knew many of the same people and yet had never met until now. The two single adjustable beds, side by side, a small bedside table without even a telephone to reach the outside world, separated them as they suffered the beginnings of labor. The two eighteen year olds, experiencing probably the most pain of their sheltered young lives were frightened and In the middle of contractions and between the sharp pains, they turned to each other for some comfort. They chatted and shared silly secrets to get their minds off their labors.

They had been warned by their mothers that labor was hard work. " that is why it is called labor," a common joke with all the women in town. They were told that they would be in a great deal of pain and then the doctor would come, put them to sleep and they would wake up with a baby.

Sharing stories of their boyfriends, now husbands seemed the best way to take their minds off of their pain and the fear of things to come. They lay in bed, covered in sweat as each painful contraction got worse and worse, reaching a point where only sharing their secret fantasies and most forbidden dreams took their minds off the pain.

Neither of the girl's husbands were present in the labor room. It was something new being done in the bigger city hospitals, but here in the local community hospital, it was not allowed. Even if it had been offered, both husbands would have declined preferring to sit outside in a room with the other expectant fathers and their families, wait for the news of their new child's birth. Their middle-aged fathers clearly remembering how they felt when their sons were born at this very same hospital. The new Grandfathers to be commented on how time seemed to have stopped as they sat in this same room once again. This time it was their sons turn to do the pacing waiting for a child to arrive.

Real men, the younger men, had been told did not get involved in women's work and having a baby was definitely a woman's job. It was their job to sit and prepare to welcome their newborn child. They had plenty of time to get ready to celebrate and pat themselves on the back for a job well done. It was their job to get balloons, stuffed toys and flowers for their wife and buy cigars to pass out to friends and even strangers that they met.

So alone and frightened and in pain with only an overworked delivery nurse coming into the room once in a while, the two young women became fast friends. They just seemed to form an instant bond over a shared traumatic experience. The doctor came, they fell asleep and woke up to find that they now shared a room and each had had a baby girl. Fathers only got to see their babies through the glass of the nursery and visiting hours were strictly enforced so new moms would be able to learn of the mysteries of new motherhood.

All was well in town as two new female members of the community were born and two older ones just fell right in step with tradition. The strict conservative values of the town were safe for another generation.

The new mothers continued to bond between breast feeding and diaper changes and learning from the nurses all they could about caring for a newborn. They spent their time kissing, cooing and hugging their babies. They could only see their husbands and family for short periods, twice a day. In that short time the in- laws and the out-laws argued about what the young couple had to name the new baby girl. Each grandmother sure they knew best. It was fun to watch the both sets of in-laws debate lists of acceptable baby names from both sides of the families, completely ignoring the actual mother and father in this vital discussion.

Later, both girls laughed at the drama caused by the heated discussion. Amanda and then Susan used their imaginations and spent the evening making funny combinations of names their families demanded they choose. it was a wonderful diversion as they sat in adjacent rocking chairs and nursed. Susan, who was a bit of a rebel, giggling the entire time, suggested they teach their mothers a lesson and break with tradition and choose their daughters' names themselves.

Amanda, who was never anything but an adoring daughter, imagined the scandal naming the babies themselves would cause and she was all in. later that night, now filled with the same rebellious spirit as Susan, she suggested switching the babies to see If nursing felt different with a different baby at their breast. With a naughty gleam in her sparkling blue eyes, Susan agreed and checking that no nurse came into the room, gently gave Amanda her baby and cradled Amanda's in her arms. This so simple act during the dead of night somehow would join these women and their baby girls together forever.

Surreptitiously and checking that they remained totally alone in the darkened room, Amanda took Susan's daughter and fed the infant from her swollen milk filled breast. At the same time Susan enticed Amanda's baby with a milk covered nipple. The babies nursed and the new mothers made a vow to be lifelong friends. They sat there, rocked slowly and fed each other's baby, switching them back when they switched breasts and before the nurses came to check on them.

Each night in the hospital was spent the same way, forming a maternal bond with their own baby as well as each other's Their favorite past time as they nursed was imagining how their daughters would grow up, find nice boys to marry and live happily ever after. They even went as far as seeing their grandchildren play all together in their back yards.

By the time it came to formally put their daughters names on the birth certificates, They made their choice from their own list of names, not their parents. They also decided to use each other's given names as the middle names for the girls. What better way to cement their friendship. So it was settled I was to be named Courtney Susan and weighed in at a slim 5 pounds and 2 ounces and Susan's daughter was to be named Margo Amanda weighing a healthy, 7 pounds at birth. I was a small quiet baby with dark hair and dark eyes just like my mom, no bother all.

I learned all this from my mother, who loved to tell the tale of my birth and how she met her best girlfriend, usually once every week when Susan and her husband sat around the card table in our living room playing a rousing game of bridge.

She took delight in watching how embarrassed the men got at the mention of childbirth, breast feeding and diaper changing and why she felt so close to Amanda and her daughter Margo. She loved to tell how Margo was a fussy baby, crying to be fed, crying to be changed and wailing all day and all night for attention. It seemed even as a baby Margo wanted the world to know she was the boss and little had changed as she grew up. Yes, Margo and I had been friends from birth.

We shared everything from the first day home from the hospital, as our moms spent at least a part of each day together. Our mothers found our play dates just so precious and it gave them the chance to continue to nurse both of us girls. From the first days at preschool and Kindergarten, all the way through High School, we seemed joined at the hip.

You rarely saw one of us without the other in tow. Usually with Margo standing out in the lead, directing the pack and me shyly, in the background, waiting to follow. You never saw such an unlikely pair of friends. She was blonde like her mother, the cheerleader type and loved boys, I was the a small, quiet nerdy dark haired girl in glasses, usually lost in the crowd and overlooked.

But there we were spending evenings together at least once a week but usually more as we grew up. Listening to the friendly banter of our parents playing cards downstairs as we bonded over romantic movies on the TV, listening to loud music, reading trashy magazines and gossiping about kids from school.

It was hard not to love Margo. She had an infectious laugh, more like a sexy giggle and a sweet smile that lit up any room she entered and hinted of a bit of mischief. She was adventurous and never gave a thought to danger or drama in whatever she did or wanted to do. She always went blindly forward, sure in her ability to handle whatever came her way. All the while she dragging me behind, convincing me everything would be just fine.

Compared to Margo, I was still a skinny and flat chested little girl. She was the proud owner of titties and even had a little patch of blonde hair between her legs. She had gotten her first period and according to her mother, now needed know about boys, men and their sinful lust, and a wife's duty to please her husband. Her mom reading all this from a handy pamphlet kept hidden in her bedroom, waiting for the day her daughter would need this information. It had to be done in secret because it was not meant for men's ears.

Susan took Margo into the bedroom, locked the door and kept listening to make sure Margo's dad had not come home from work early. To a "little" girl like me, sex was a still meant to be a big unspoken mystery. It seemed that having titties and hair between your legs and a period, entitled you to join a special women's club. Margo now belonged to the club. She had become a woman. I was sad and jealous.

I hit puberty with mosquito bumps for titties and dark hair on my kitty, but was still totally unprepared for the reality of my first period. It had happened by accident in school. I ran to the school nurse embarrassed by my stained shorts Sure my school life was over, I just knew, the girl grapevine that always knew such things, would spread the word by the next day.

The only good thing from the whole experience was that my mother and I finally had the "talk." She sat me down and gave me the secret information that all women needed to know. I was finally deemed worthy to join the secret women's club. I sat there politely as she told me the facts of life, how to love and please a man and the do's and don'ts of a woman's life. In hushed tones she described how it was a woman's duty to please her husband and how I was expected to be untouched when I wed. I sat there like the good innocent daughter I was and thanked her for telling me all I needed to know. Funny now that I look back on it, she was probably reading from the same pamphlet Margo's mother used.

By the time we were in high school, I had developed into a tall, thin young woman with small breasts, mousey brown hair, brown eyes that did not sparkle and a butt I thought was scrawny. Womanhood had not changed me much and I was still painfully shy and socially awkward. Margo on the other hand had blossomed. She was well developed, a full C cup with perky nipples, radiant ice blue eyes and stunning blonde hair that was always kept just in place.

She actually was now the head cheerleader and definitely a boy magnet. Every boy in the class would hanging on her every word and fight with each other, begging for a smile from her. I was often passed over standing in line to get lunch in the cafeteria, as Margo had guys fighting over who would buy lunch for her.

Considering how our social lives had changed, I was amazed Margo still considered me her best friend. No matter how busy she was or how popular she got, we still spent time together. I lived for our alone times, cuddling close together in my bed or hers in just our nightgowns. Our hair freshly washed, our bodies scrubbed clean and smelling from some fruity gel. We sharing the special alone time of besties.

I don't remember how it happened but I somehow became an expert at giving her pedicures. Her feet in my lap I painted each toe carefully as we watched movies on TV, gossiping about her latest boyfriend and who was putting out for whom.

I owed my entire high school social life or what little there was of it to Margo. I was her plus 1 to parties and I was usually the friend she brought along on first dates to meet a couple of boys. She just never forgot our friendship. The next thing I knew, our eighteenth birthdays were celebrated and our Senior year happened in the blink of an eye. Margo had her selection of boys to choose from to escort her to the Senior prom and the weekend of fun and frolic that was to take place from prom night to the days that followed. Prom night in this town was traditionally, prom weekend and it was the highlight of a girl's last year of high school. I, on the other hand, planned on sitting at home all weekend studying for the SATs. I did not have an invitation nor did I expect one.

Margo once again came to my rescue. She quietly let it be known among the boys competing for her time at the final party, the only way she would say yes was if they had a friend to take me. I was so happy, when out of the blue this really cute guy asked me to go to the prom.

Margo and I shopped for our prom dresses together. Margo chose my dress for me. Exclaiming it was just so perfect, holding it against me. The silky blue fabric clung to me and showed off my slim figure. She raved about how my perky small breasts were on display in the strapless dress and how the thigh high slit showed off my great legs.

She looked at my legs and commented I needed 5" heels to go with the dress. I had never worn heels, but Margo just ignored me and I found myself blushing as a cute shoe salesman put my foot in a pair of "fuck me" heels as Margo described them, whispering in my ear.

Directly from the shoe shop, Margo marched me to Victoria's Secret. She insisted I needed sexy new underwear, a garter belt and stockings. Margo had decided we were going to lose our virginity at the hotel in town after the prom. Our dates would expect it as it was a right of passage for seniors everywhere. I didn't even try to argue, she always knew best and I was secretly excited about the idea.

At home later that night she taught what was expected of me to fully enjoy the prom experience. My first lesson was to learn how to deep kiss with my tongue in someone's else's mouth, of course it was Margo's mouth.

Next came instruction in the proper techniques for hand jobs. My last lesson of the evening was satisfying my banana "boyfriend" with my mouth. Margo cheered and was so proud of my new skill, when I didn't even gag as the yellow fruit disappeared down my throat.

My first tongue kiss with Margo was an experience I will always remember. My eyes were closed, my heart skipped a beat and I felt funny inside. I can still recall clearly how we both moaned as our tongues played and how her mouth tasted as we kissed holding each other tightly. By the time I had learned the proper technique my panties were soaked and I just hoped a boy was half as good a kisser as Margo.

I was still clueless about sexual intimacy, but Margo said I now knew enough to fake it like she did with boys. At the time I did not understand what she meant.

You might have guessed already, but the prom weekend was a dud. I gave up my virginity to a crude selfish boy that never called me again. Margo's date was not much better, but she said what the hell. She was using him anyway and she got her pleasure from his tongue in her pussy.

She held me close when I cried and sobbed and once again stated with certainly this time that my life was over. i was sure that no decent man would want me now that I had lost my virginity. She never once made fun of my narrow naïve view of the world.

Margo and I were still besties and like all besties we applied to the same colleges, accepted the same one and became roommates. Our college years were filled with laughter and tears, single and double dates and even more than a few morning hangovers after drunken parties. it was after a night of drinking and fighting off two handsy fraternity boys that Margo made her latest declaration and a new road we would follow. Margo declared herself Lesbian. this was done with the same enthusiasm and "I don't give a fuck what you think attitude" as she did with everything else in her life. She decided that I should be a lesbian too and began my instruction about the ways of lesbian love.

She was an excellent teacher and I soon learned all the secret places on another woman's body and how to please and excite a woman. When Margo's tongue found its way into my mouth and she teased and played with my lower lip, I remembered our first kiss in my bedroom long ago and instantly felt my panties get wet once again.

she held me tight and made loved to me. My entire body tingled, my pussy gushed and I had my very first vaginal orgasm brought about, not by a man but by another woman. She showed me how to pleasure her pussy and I got lost in her taste and smell. when she finally reciprocated and licked me, pushing her tongue hard against my clit, I started to shake uncontrollably. Teasing my labia with the tip of her tongue, she gently blew on them and probed deep inside me for the first time, At that moment I was very certain that I would never want or need a man again.

Margo told me my own orgasms would be rewards when I behaved and her orgasms would be my focus in our new relationship. I didn't argue just pushed my face back between her legs. I became addicted to her taste, to her smell and to her touch. I could not say no to her, even when what she asked of me felt strange and bizarre, uncomfortable physically and even downright perverted. She had always been so charming, playful and creative no one could resist her. She could get anyone to do her bidding. My needs overpowered my judgment and I was hers.