A Fear of Being

* * * *

While at work that night, I couldn't take my mind off of her. Once home, my mind swirled with all kinds of fanciful thoughts of what I had seen, imagined or not. Damn, she made me so hot and horny. She had secrets, though, and they were sexual. My mind ran rampant with the myriad possibilities, and all the while my pussy was giving me what for, she so affected me. My fingers tried to pacify it. Conjuring her up, my mind seeking out the sexiest part of her, I quietly drove myself crazy as I couldn't decide which part of her was the finest, and it drove me even wilder. There was no doubt—I knew she had worked a spell on me for I was working overtime seeing us as being together, as in always. She had messed my mind up something fierce.

Chapter 4

"She's back; our new Goddess, and damn fine looking, too," Jackie alerted me.

I looked toward the entrance, and sure enough, there she was again. My pussy clenched in hoped for joy; Jackie was right, she did look like a Goddess. This time she was dressed in a skirt similar to the others I had seen, but her blouse was a little more form fitted, showing off what looked like some sweet boobs, albeit, still completely covered up.

"Hi," she said, no nervousness to be seen this time.

"Hi yourself. Glad you decided to come back. A diet ginger ale?" I asked, marveling at the casualness in my voice.

Lowering her head in mild embarrassment, she nodded.

"Coming right up. Got a fresh bottle in case you came back," I said grinning. It was a lie, but I was rewarded with another smile.

How I was able to be so casual might have been due to so many nights of greeting customers. For sure, my pussy was crying out to get to know her. I felt it's tears of desire between my legs right away.

"Here you go," I said putting her glass of ginger ale before her.

"Thank you," she said, again pretty freely, no hesitation whatsoever.

"Ready for some admirers?" I said with a lopsided grin.

She blushed, but before she could say anything, one of the femmes approached her. I left her to fend them off, if fending was on her mind this time.

Taking care of other drink requests, she did send a few would-be suitors packing, at least temporarily. I grinned as I approached her.

"Maybe someday you'll give one of them a break," I continued my silly grin still working.

"Maybe," she said. "Why don't they try their luck with you? You're no slouch in anyone's book, and that has to include lesbians," she wondered seriously.

That heartened me as to what she might think of me. About the time I was about to answer, the chant went up.

"Fe, fi, fo, fum,

we think Fiona's needing some..."

Blushing a bit, I knew that if I didn't take some drinks for them, not to mention collect some generous tips, they'd keep it up until I went to them. Looking at Lauren, my grin was a little different. Her smile was an "Oops, I see now" kind of smile. She had her answer to some trying their usual luck with me though I was pretty sure that they knew I'd not go with any of them. Still, they were a real horny lot; then again, I was too, and by now they must have guessed that I liked some of the attentions of some of them. I was pretty sure Lauren was watching me as I went to the crowd that was clamoring for their fun.

They were a little more grabby than usual. The cheeks of my ass received more attention this time, not to mention that once I jerked forward only to find a hand further up between my legs groping my pussy as best it could. I was lucky not to have dropped any drinks.

They were like little children, thoroughly enjoying their mistreatment of me. My cheeks, which usually got a lot of their attention, were pretty rounded, so much so that they folded in nicely to form a cleft on meeting my thighs, and that always showed itself. They liked that, and I knew it, maybe because it not only had a lot of their attention, but it paid off handsomely. There sometimes were a few twenties as well as some ten spots.

Going back to the bar, I was a little out of it, a grin on my face while pulling the tips out to see what all I'd made in this go around. It was a good take, but suddenly I realized that I would be going back to my normal area which was where Lauren sat. That suddenly changed my mood. Tips put away without counting, I moved to where she was. Maybe now I'd never get a chance at her.

That bothered me some until I moved to my station.

She had a smile on her face and she sort of tried to act as if she was hiding it.

"I take it that my question about why they don't try to make out with you has been answered," she said. "You're sure popular, but that's what I expected, though not quite like that."

For some reason I talked about it to her.

"When I worked the floor, it was about to get to be too much, and then Jackie took pity on me and brought me to the bar. It was supposed to be an exclusive place for me, but... Well, it's usually not as bad as it was this time. At least the tips were better."

"It looked as if you were running through a gauntlet," she observed.

"Yeah, it sometimes feels like it. Much as I sometimes don't mind it, I wouldn't let any of those butches catch me away from here."

"You like it?" she asked, truly puzzled.

"Some. I'm as lesbian as a lesbian can be. I love being a lesbian, and that means that, for me at least, I love sex with a woman. Not just any woman, but only a woman."

I told her about how I'd kissed the neighbor girl the first time. To say that she was amazed is putting it mildly, but she didn't say anything, only nodded a time or two. I hoped my telling of myself, little though it was, wasn't off-putting to her. Still, I wondered why it struck her as amazing.

Looking as if she was in deep thought, she suddenly said, "I saw you at the mall on Wednesday. I thought about calling out to you, but you were too far away." She sounded a little wistful, and once more, looked as if far away.

That stunned me enough to stifle any immediate response, but then, "I wish you had," I said quietly.

"Really?" she asked even quieter, as if still in whatever reverie she was coming out of.

I nodded. "Want to try again sometime?"

She looked at me, then just as fast looked away, then back again.

"Yes, that might be nice," she said, a seemingly hopeful look crossing her face, making me wonder about her even more.

"Are you normally off early on Wednesdays, or was that a fluke?" I tried to push at what I prayed was an opening.

"I, uh, usually take some time off then."

"Do you like it there? Where you saw me, that is?"

"It's okay. A good place to meet?" she hesitantly added, again as if trying to decide if it was wise, and me hoping she thought it was.

She really puzzled me. Was she interested in me as I began to think she might be? She seemed to wanting to get right to it, but uncertainty crept in for some reason or other. It reminded me of being like fumbling teenagers wanting to make a date to see each other for the first time, but unsure how it would be taken by the other.

"Uh-huh," I answered. "There's some good restaurants nearby, some with a little privacy, others not," I prompted her, my heart beating a staccato rhythm, and my nerves just as hopeful as my suddenly twitching pussy. "But if it would be better to meet some other day, that'd be okay too maybe."

She thought about it for a moment, then tried to say something, maybe agree to it, but she didn't.

"I think I better leave now. Maybe we'll see each other again. Maybe..." she left off.

"Yeah, I think I'd like that, Lauren."

For a moment I thought that I'd blown it, given her pause to doubt herself, doubt me, or the connection we nearly made.

"Me too," she whispered, then reached for my hand that was on the bar and covered it momentarily. "Bye," she said and left.

By that, her reaching out to touch my hand, I hoped that we were back on, but I wasn't sure. My hopes sank to the pit of my stomach. Then again, she might be there; I would be, I knew.

"Bye," I whispered after her, my eyes following her gorgeous figure until she was gone.

"What was that all about?" Jackie came over as soon as she was free.

"I'm not sure; probably nothing," I said, gathering myself up as if nothing had happened.

* * * *

Once home, I didn't even try to count my tip take; I hadn't at the bar as I sometimes did. What I did was to wonder what it was that made Lauren so unsure of herself—or was it an uncertainty of whether or not she really was a lesbian? She turned down some lovely femmes, and not just their efforts to have her dance with them. Turning down the butches was easy to understand if you don't have that proclivity to start with. Some of us just weren't into butches, didn't need their "protective" largeness, or to feel a desire to be bossed or owned by them. Some did, but maybe that wasn't Lauren's gig. It sure wasn't mine.

What I knew was how I was, but since Lauren had entered the bar, I hadn't even thought of getting together too often with another girl, not even one of those too cute femmes. No, Lauren was occupying my mind even when I thought I wasn't thinking about her. She'd somehow bewitched me, gobbled up my person, and she wasn't a butch, or even a femme, just what seemed ti be a troubled woman who wanted to meet me, yet couldn't bring herself to outright act like it.

Then I wondered if it was that I hadn't made a play for her that kept her from committing to what seemed to be a simple date, and not even at her place or mine. She troubled my mind with her sweetness though. How could I find out what might turn her on, or maybe what turned her off, what was off-putting to her?

I was grateful for work on Saturday. Already my anxieties were busy having babies bringing me untold questions that added more anxieties. I dreaded Sunday and Monday, but made it through them, if a bit frazzled internally. This was new to me. All of my years to this point had been fairly much worry free, even carefree. The few concerns that I'd had were keeping my sexuality out of the very public eye, then finding work. Neither had ever been a problem to speak of.

Lauren presented something else though. She was an enigma that I couldn't begin to solve. Since the last time I saw her and she'd touched my hand leaving me with a hoped for promise that wasn't really a promise, I kept feeling that touch. Indeed, in my bed I took to caressing my clit with my left hand as I touched the top of that hand with my right, dreaming in feelings of my hopes. It was no way to live, but I wouldn't have traded it for the world. I just hoped that those dreams wouldn't turn into a nightmare in my heart. God, was I talking myself into thinking that I was in love with her? Thoughts and feelings were mixed over that, the feelings sweet, the thoughts ominous.

Chapter 5

Anxiously awaiting Wednesday to come, I was every bit as nervous as I'd imagined Lauren to be when I first met her. Though there was no way for me to know what the outcome was to be, still, I was wanting to find out. Why she had affected me so was hard to figure out. Oh, she was gorgeous, of that there was no doubt, but I'd seen many gorgeous women, as well as some very lovely femmes, and I'd made love to quite a few of them too, but Lauren? Those eyes and the rest of her person got to me.

In a way, I was in danger of losing my heart to her as I'd not yet done to any other woman. I do love sex, but so far it's always been without attachment; an overnight stay, or even a weekend, and much joy, but nothing of the heart as yet. In fact, the few rare times I thought about permanence with anyone, those thoughts were short lived. I've always enjoyed the freedom to love as I desired. If someone was pleasing to me, if she was amenable, as a few have been, we've gotten together again, but not with any thought of permanence.

Lauren was a whole other thing—an enigma that I couldn't fathom as yet. Would I lose my heart to her only to have her decide that she didn't want us to become permanent, or even that she wasn't a lesbian? The options I was giving myself were too rigid. That worried me. There was so much about her that screamed "iffy" to me. So, yes, foolish though I was thinking, I knew for the first time that I did hope it would lead to something that would go on and on. It was crazy, but I'd never lied to myself.

* * * *

I saw her not long after I'd arrived. Going to her, I kissed her cheek as I, and all women, usually do, just not in the club—in the club, kisses were often passionate, even lustily given. She seemed surprised, but did the same.

"Hi," I said as I felt her very fleeting reciprocal kiss on my cheek.

"Hello," she said, acting flustered. "I wasn't sure you'd be here."

"I wondered about you too," I admitted. "How are you?"

"Good. You?"

"Same" I said. "There now, we've got the pleasantries out of the way. That wasn't so hard, was it?" I said with a big smile.

Her face flushed, and she lowered her head momentarily. "No, it wasn't. Where too, or are you like me and haven't the foggiest?" she recovered nicely, sounding more positive.

We walked about aimlessly, getting a sense of each other and gathering our thoughts, or at least I was.

"There's a nice outdoor restaurant nearby. Want to go have something to eat or just a drink maybe?" I ventured.

"Sure," she said.

We walked over to it, a short block away. It wasn't busy, so we took a table that was sure to be away from anybody who might stop by, and ordered a drink, her a diet ginger ale, me a glass of wine.

"I was thinking about this, how it might be," she opened it up.

"And? What did you come up with?"

She shrugged, her uncertainty returning. "I'm not sure," she said, but her hand reached out and nearly touched mine, but she quickly pulled it back to my dismay.

I looked at her a moment and wondered what to say, but then our drinks came, and I quickly paid for them.

"Thanks," she said with a small smile.

"Lauren, can I ask you something?" She nodded, a puzzled look on her face, some fear in her eyes. "I'm a lesbian for sure, and I'm very attracted to you, and I think that there's a connection between us, but I'm a little uncertain."

She started to say something, but I raised my hand, and she stopped whatever she meant to say.

"When you first came into the club, you stunned us all with your beauty, and you had a way about you that exuded certainty, confidence, but beneath that, I thought I saw some caution in you...some uncertainty. Needless to say, I tried to figure you out. You didn't take on any of the offers made by any of the others, but I thought that you were as many have been, sizing things up, checking to see if the club met your expectations. Then after that, it was sort of similar in that you turned everyone down.

"For sure, there's no way I can be certain of any of this, but I have a feeling that you may be wondering if you're a lesbian or not, or that you're pretty sure you are, but you've never let yourself express it," I said and stopped. "The question is whether I'm in any way right, or if I shouldn't hang up my psychic shingle, or maybe I'm just foolishly over imaginative. Either way, I think I like you as a person, and no sex meant, and I'd like to get to know you better."

My breath came out as if I'd been holding it in. Looking at her and wondering if she'd just get up and leave, or maybe tell me that I'm full of it, I waited. Her look was pensive, her face a little tight, then she let out her breath too.

"Wow! You just might be a psychic. You're right, Fiona. I feel as if I'm in limbo, not really sure of who or what I am," she said and paused, then looked as if trying to decide on whatever.

"Look, can we go to my place and talk some, kind of privately. I'm not...oh, mercy, I don't mean for you to wonder if I'm being forward, or anything," she said, and looked at me wondering what I might be thinking.

"That's fine, if it'll help you, and no, no sex, honey, just two want-to-be friends talking a few things out. Okay?"

She acted as if she was relieved. "Thank you," she said, and we left.

Chapter 6

She had a nice house; I told her so.

"Thank you. I was lucky and I'm renting it on a lease to buy with good terms. Uh, can I get you something to drink?"

"No thanks, I'm fine," I said.

Sitting on her sofa, which was very comfortable, she sat leaving a seat between us, it being a large three seat sofa.

"Goodness, I'm not sure where to start," she said. "You were pretty frank with me, and I guess I need to be honest with you. Truthfully, I'm trying to be that way with myself too. That would be best, I think, since I feel kind of lost. You were right in what you said about me. If I may, I'd like to tell you about myself. First though, you are also right in saying you felt that I felt a connection with you. If I hadn't seen you and talked to you first, I may well have walked right out, especially after that butch approached me. To be sure, I took a huge chance in going to that club. It took all I could to make myself go."

She paused, licked her lips, and seemed to be gathering herself to tell whatever she wanted to say.

"I'm pretty sure I'm a lesbian, but I've never been with anyone, at least not yet, and before talking to you, I'm not sure if I ever would have been. You did set me at ease when I felt I wanted to run."

She paused for a goodly spell, licked her lips again, and with a worried look, began once more.

"I, uh, was born into what you'd call a fundamentalist church in a small town. Not that small, but in no way large. When I was about ten, I found out just how fundamental they were, though I didn't understand it at the time. Our pastor often preached on how we were to live God's laws, how we were to obey him in every way.

"It was a time when I began to notice girls, but I didn't know what I was noticing. Our pastor did help me in that when he preached about how terrible homosexuality was, and that is was an abomination before God, and said plainly that the attraction between two people of the same sex was wrong. Of course, he said it a little more explicitly. Anyway, at that time, a..."

She had to stop, her breathing suddenly coming in ragged breaths.

"It's okay to take your time, honey. And if you don't think you can continue, you don't have to. We can do this another time if you wish, but if you do want to go on, I'm listening. Just do what's best for you, okay?" I said, quietly, having leaned a little to be able to touch her arm.

She took a deep breath and let it out in a loud and heavy whoosh.

"Thank you, I would like to go on, though I'm not sure why. Somehow I just need to get this out, and I did feel that connection with you, or hoped I did. Not that way, exactly, but you are a lesbian, and you were so nice to me. I'm sorry, I've never felt I could talk to anyone before."

"Thanks, Lauren. I did mean it when I said I'd listen, so if you wish to go on, then go ahead."

"Th—there was a man, and they must have strongly thought, or known, that he was gay, and they decided he needed counseling. But it was to be by the congregation—adults only so us younger ones had to go to another room. How they "counseled" him was to beat him for sinning against God, and I do mean beat him. Though we were in another room, we could hear but his screams were hard to block out—it sounded so horrible—and later I thought that they intended for us to hear so that we'd not sin as he did, or so they said he did. To this day, I have no idea how they thought they knew or thought that he was gay.

"It was a horrendously bad beating from what we heard, his screams loud, and often. Did it scare us? Definitely, though a few tried to act as if it didn't, but I knew they were as I was. What I'm trying to tell you is that I began to really pay attention to how I liked girls, liked to be around them, with them, and didn't really like being with boys in any way. Our pastor preached even more on homosexuality, and how those that were homosexuals needed to be chastised lest they have to have a final judgement and reap the fires of hell.