Eve and Emily

This is my fourteenth contribution to:

The 750 Word Project 2024

I met her at a bar. Corny, right? I'd been waiting for some guy. Enough! I messaged him, hoping he'd have a nice life.

I'd seen her out of the corner of my eye, she was seated fifteen feet away. There was something about her. She seemed, I don't know, uncomfortable in her own skin. I empathized. Girls who actually look more like women than me don't get stood up.

I took a chance and wandered over, asking if I could join her. I saw panic in her eyes. She gulped and nodded.

"I'm Emily. Been waiting to meet someone. But fuck him. Men, right?"

She spoke hesitantly. My voice is deep -- people expect petite blondes to have teeny tiny tinkling voices, not my Lauren Bacall drawl -- but hers was deeper. "I'm... Eve. Nice to meet you."

Eve was wearing too much make-up. I knew that feeling. Masking they called it. Though for me, it was more hiding my atypical mental processes. But she was pretty. And she reminded me of someone. "Have we met?"

She shook her head and turned away from me, intently examining her cocktail. I waved to the barkeep. "I'll have the same."

"I like your dress, Eve. Where'd you get it?"

She blushed. "On-line. On sale. Do you really like it?"

"Well, I think so. Hard to tell with you sitting. Let me have a proper look."

Eve seemed to reach some internal decision. She stood. Wow, she was tall. Initially her pose was shy, and then she smiled and pirouetted. Her dress was short and flared as she twirled. Nice legs, I thought.

She sat again, the front of her dress billowed a little, and I glimpsed a lacy black bra, enclosing breasts that had me envious. Eve downed her drink and, as the barkeep handed me mine, said she'd take another.

I'm kinda direct. Another product of my non-traditional neural wiring. "Listen Eve, I was meeting a guy. And I was kinda hoping to get fucked." I paused to check that I hadn't already gone too far. Aside from her cheeks becoming even rosier, I saw nothing to put me off. "Thing is, I like girls as well as boys. I wondered if, maybe, you'd like to get to know each other a little better."

With what seemed like substantial effort, Eve looked me in the eye. "I... I think I might really like that. But..."

I cut her off. "Great. Your drink is coming. Let's finish these and my apartment is nearby. Nicer to chat there. More private."

Eve's new drink arrived in and she drained it. "OK, but I really have to..."

"It can wait, hun. Tell me once we are at my place, OK?"

"OK, Emily." Though her stature dwarfed me, Eve seemed happy to follow my lead.

I said I was direct, right? I closed my apartment door and my next move was to kiss Eve, standing on tip-toes to reach her lips. She responded in kind, then stepped back, a shocked look on her face. She tried to speak, but I held my finger to her lips and breathed, "hush."

I eased the shoulder straps of my cocktail dress off and let it fall to the floor. My modest shape didn't necessitate a bra. And as for panties? Well I was that sort of girl.

I looked at Eve with false coyness. "Too much? Or not enough? Maybe you don't like boyish girls."

Eve stood with her mouth open. And then I noticed. Noticed the bulge in her dress. A bulge where no bulge should be.

She blurted, obviously acutely aware of what I now understood. "I'm so sorry. I tried to tell you. I... I should leave." She made for the door.

"Wait!" I could be commanding on occasion and Eve froze on my orders.

"It's Jamie, isn't it? From the coffee shop. I knew I recognized you. How did I never notice those tits. It's not like they are small?"

"I... I strap them down. Promise you'll tell no one. Please."

My heart went out to him... her... whatever. But deep in my brain, as well as deep in my body, a little fire began to spark.

"Sure, Eve." I was going to stick with that name. "I won't tell. But I have one condition."

"Anything, Emily."

"Take off that dress. We can have a chat later, but I already told you I want to get fucked."

Eve disrobed, and I knelt before her.