Heather

Heather's shift at the coffeehouse was over and all she wanted to do was go home. She had been summoned into the manager's office and if it was to be fired that would be fine with her. She didn't make any attempt to fix her hair or otherwise prepare herself for meeting with the tyrant.

Adam was a sad, little man. Almost forty, he had worked all the way up to manager of a single outpost in a ridiculously large chain of coffeehouses. So large, in fact, there was almost one on every corner. His frustrations, Heather assumed, were mostly taken out on the employees.

She closed the door behind her and acknowledged, if not in glowing fashion, his presence. Adam didn't invite her to sit down. Instead, he rose from his rickety chair and walked towards her.

"Hello, Heather."

She smiled back.

"How are you?" he asked, stopping a couple feet in front of her.

Tired and very much in need of a shower didn't seem like an appropriate response. "Fine," she said.

"Good. It sounded busy today." Heather wondered how he would know, as little time as he actually spent with the employees during working hours.

"Yep. It was," she replied. Heather watched Adam's eyes lock onto the cleavage showing above the low-cut, white knit shirt she wore. She wished now she hadn't taken off the standard issue green apron all the employees wore.

"Well, Heather. I wanted to talk to you today about a possible promotion." Adam was looking at her with a depraved smile.

"Oh," Heather responded with a questioning voice.

"I need an assistant manager. I think you're the best person I've got."

Heather was rapidly calculating the negatives in Adam's offer. "Oh, thanks. But Joe and Nicole have both been here longer than me, and..."

"No. I think you're the right person," Adam said, stepping closer.

Heather speculated on how she could say 'No' without offending or, worse yet, enraging the little creep. "Maybe if you let me think about it."

It was her last attempt to get out of the office and delay her answer.

"Maybe I can help you decide."

With that, Adam reached out and put his hand on the side of Heather's left breast. It happened so fast she couldn't back up quickly enough. She felt him push his hand against her harder.

"No. Adam," she said roughly.

His other hand was on her other breast.

"No. Please." Heather tried to turn away, but he had her from both sides. His grip tightened.

He stared only at her breasts, as if the rest of her wasn't there. Then he was pushing her backwards. It was only a couple of feet to the wall in his miniscule office.

"Don't scream," he warned her. Heather took him seriously.

She put her arms back trying to brace herself, knowing the wall was close. She slammed up against it and the air rushed out of her lungs.

He was on her, his hands suddenly inside the shirt, moving up, pressing harder against her. The hands were on top of her breasts, tugging at the bra and skin underneath.

"Adam. Stop. Stop it," Heather said as loud as she could without screaming.

"Shut up," he hissed. The bra was pushed up, along with her shirt, and Heather's breasts were exposed to the tormenter.

She wanted to hit him. Hard. She wanted to lift a knee into his groin. She wanted to scream.

Adam's mouth closed around a breast. He bit her roughly and Heather stifled a shriek. Teeth pulled at her nipple. Then he was on the other breast, biting and pulling.

His strength surprised Heather. Only able to move sideways, she could not escape his grip. Pinned against the wall, her arms were nearly useless except for hitting him in the back.

Adam attacked her breasts for several more seconds, then leaned back slightly and reached for the top of Heather's pants. At that moment she made a decision. She had just enough room to swing wildly and catch him right on the side of his face with her hand. The smack echoed in the room.

Instead of giving her either the time or space to run for it, the slap only infuriated the would-be rapist.

"Oh, you like it rough," Adam said. "Rough it is."

He returned the slap so quickly Heather had no chance of avoiding it. Her head hit the wall. Tears flowed from her eyes as she regained her senses.

"Please. Adam."

Adam's hands were on Heather's shoulders, pushing her down. She tumbled to her knees as he backed away from her just enough to give her space.

"Open my pants, bitch," she heard him say.

"No. Let me..."

"Do it or I'll really hurt you," he said.

Heather could see the door just a few feet away. It might as well have been a few miles. She unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper. She could see the outline of his cock inside his underwear. He was so hard the tip was under the waistband.

"Pull it out," Adam demanded.

Heather pulled down the underwear just enough to expose the rigid cock. It pointed to the ceiling in disgusting hardness.

"Now suck it or I'll do more than slap you."

Heather felt her head being pushed onto the cock. It hit her lips, then slid onto her cheek. She moved her head to the side until the stiff cock was in front of her again. She opened her mouth and aimed for the swollen tip.

Her eyes were closed, but she felt it between her lips. Heather began to close her mouth.

Suddenly, there were three sharp knocks on the door.

"Fuck," Adam barked. "Fuck."

Heather jumped at the sound of the door and Adam's harsh voice. His cock slithered out of her mouth.

"Get up. Get dressed," Adam ordered as he fumbled for his underwear and pants. It only took Heather a second to have her bra and shirt back in place. She headed for the door.

"Hold it," Adam said in a panicky voice.

A few seconds later he said, "OK."

Heather opened the door, quickly sped past her co-worker and headed for her car.

Two weeks later Heather was still unemployed, by choice, but almost over the shock of the incident enough to allow herself to get back into the mainstream of society. Sleep had been difficult at first. A hundred times she thought of things she could have, should have, done differently. A hundred times the incident always remained the same. It happened just the way she remembered it.

Heather McMurray was a twenty-four-year-old woman with a naturally appealing face and body. Her short, straight brown hair was always neatly styled and she wore modern, if rather conservative, clothes. Men were not attracted to her because of looks alone. She was deeper than that, if she allowed you to know her.

Sex was OK, in her opinion, but she'd never found a guy that seemed to know how to do it well. At least not the way she envisioned it feeling. Heather had orgasms, but where were the fireworks she read about in her books?

She would keep looking.

One of Heather's regular dates was a guy named Scott who was nice enough, but certainly wasn't ready to spend time with only one woman. Nor was Heather ready for a long-term relationship with him. He did, however, like the club scene along with Heather. So they were regulars at a local spot featuring new bands and cheap drinks.

They were there on a particularly crowded Saturday night, dancing, when Heather first noticed the little blonde in the short denim skirt. The girl, maybe twenty, also noticed Heather. In fact, it was the blonde's steady gaze towards her that got Heather's attention.

Heather found herself gazing back at the dazzling blonde who seemed to float on the dance floor. They exchanged smiles. Bodies blocked their view of each other. Then more smiles.

Half an hour later while Scott was off talking to friends and Heather sat alone at her table, the blonde appeared at her side.

"Hi," the girl shouted above the din of the club.

Heather looked up. "Hi."

"You're a great dancer," the blonde said.

If it had been anybody else talking to her, Heather would have been searching for ways to blow her off. "Thanks, but I'm not as good as you. I enjoyed watching you."

Heather couldn't believe she said it to a complete stranger. Another woman, at that. But it was true.

"My name's Kristin."

"Hi. I'm Heather. Want to sit down?"

"Thanks." Kristin quickly pulled out the chair next to Heather, sat down and leaned on the table. Heather watched Kristin cross her long, tan legs.

"I don't remember seeing you here before," Heather said.

"I've only come a couple times. Mainly during the week. I like it like this when there's more people here," Kristin said.

"Are you with somebody?" Heather asked.

"Yeah. A friend brought me. How about you?"

"He's around somewhere," Heather said, straining to find Scott's head among the crowd.

Kristin laughed. "Sounds familiar. I think my guy only came because he wants something later. It's probably not going to happen."

Heather recognized her sly smile and laughed at Kristin's straightforwardness.

"Would you be offended if I asked you to dance with me?" Kristin asked with a wishful look in her eyes.

Heather felt an unusual, but not unwelcome, flutter inside. "Uh, sure. I'd like that."

"Like now?" Kristin said.

"Let's go." Heather was out of her chair as if drawn by an unseen force. Kristin was right behind her.

They squeezed onto the dance floor much to the delight of all the guys. Heather tried her best to mimic some of her new partner's awesome moves, but soon realized she'd never be the dancer Kristin was. But that was alright with her. Heather enjoyed Kristin's infectious energy and constant smile.

Heather found herself moving her eyes from Kristin's wispy blonde hair to her ample breasts to her little waist and hips. Kristin's jeans hung low on her hips and highlighted a tiny, round ass. Heather understood, with envy, what all the guys were looking at.

By the end of the set, Heather had pretty much forgotten about Scott. Perhaps it was the alcohol; perhaps it was the whole scene; but Heather felt Kristin was flirting with her. Perhaps it was the truth.

They returned to the table considerably warmer than when they left it. Heather bought them each a drink and they talked for another fifteen minutes. Then Kristin borrowed a pen from a waiter, found a piece of scrap paper and scribbled on it.

"Here's my number," Kristin said, handing the paper to Heather with a smile. "Call me anytime. OK?"

Heather took the note. "You sure?"

"I'm sure." Kristin got up, gave a petite wave and blended back into the crowd.

Heather looked down at the number and stuffed it into her pocket.

Every day for the next week Heather looked at the piece of paper under the magnet on her refrigerator. She wanted to call, but what message would that give Kristin? Twice she had her cell phone in her hand ready to call. Twice she put the phone back down. What would she say to Kristin? What did they have to talk about? Kristin was just a...kid.

Finally, on Saturday afternoon, Heather made the call. She almost wished Kristin wouldn't answer and she could just leave a message, but Kristin did answer and they stumbled through the initial few seconds. When Heather told Kristin about her new job, Kristin seemed genuinely happy for her. Heather listened to a funny story Kristin told about a disastrous date and soon they both were much more comfortable.

They ended the conversation by saying they'd talk again sometime. Heather, for one, hoped that was true.

Heather thought back later that night to Kristin's story about the date from hell. Heather still couldn't imagine going out with anybody other than Scott after the incident at the coffeehouse. In fact, she'd only gone out with Scott twice and seemed to be distancing herself from even him. She didn't really trust men anymore. Why should she trust Kristin like she did? Weren't women equally capable of hurting her?

It only took two days for Heather to call Kristin back. This time they talked a little bit more about themselves, their likes and dislikes, food, music and TV. It ended up they had more in common than Heather ever expected. For the first time she gave serious thought to the fact Kristin could become a friend.

Then, on Thursday, Heather had a message from Kristin on her cell phone. She eagerly played it.

"Hey, Heather. This is Kristin. I'm going to go to the club on Saturday. Want to go? I'd hate to go by myself. Give me a call. Bye."

Of course Heather wanted to go and she immediately returned the call. They agreed on a time and Kristin volunteered to drive. Heather tried not to sound too excited until the call was over, then she threw her arms into the air and shouted "Yes!". She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this happy.

Heather wasn't sure whether to dress for the club or for Kristin on Saturday night. She chose a slightly more revealing top than usual, so she decided she was dressing for Kristin. There was no way she could ever look the same in jeans as Kristin, so she didn't even worry about that. Well, actually she worried about it, but knew she'd never own an ass like that.

She was ready half an hour early and anxiously waited for the sound of Kristin's car. Fifteen minutes past the scheduled time, Kristin pulled up.

After the preliminary hellos and apologies from Kristin for being late, Heather said, "Wow. You look great tonight. I love that."

Indeed, Kristin looked more stunning than usual in a skin tight top that criss-crossed over her chest and tied on one side at her waist. Her jeans were tight enough to be part of her body. Heather had never known anybody who could make her feel so inferior without infuriating her at the same time.

The club was packed, as usual, but that only energized both women. One drink later they were dancing with guys that looked innocent enough. They never spent another dime after that as free drinks came at them from all directions while they sat at the bar. Heather, unfamiliar with so much attention from guys, soaked in as much of Kristin's techniques as she could. The girl was good.

They only lost sight of each other momentarily during one break in the music. But, soon, were back together as the band started up.

"I was beginning to worry," Heather said, leaning closer to Kristin's ear when she reappeared.

"Me, too. That guy was intent on us leaving," Kristin yelled back.

"I'm glad you're still here." Heather still had trouble with the concept of touching her new friend, but as close as they had to be when talking made it all but impossible to avoid.

"Thanks. Are you having a good time?" Kristin asked.

"Absolutely." They touched their glasses together in a toast.

"Come on," Kristin said, grabbing Heather's hand.

Heather thought she'd never let go of Kristin's hand as the beautiful girl led her to the dance floor. The hand felt small and soft, yet reassuring. Friendly.

They danced closely, by choice this time and not because of the crowd. When they touched Heather felt a reaction through her entire body. When they tried to talk and had to be head-to-head, Heather smelled the clean fragrance of Kristin's hair. She was beginning to notice everything about her now. What the hell was happening, she thought?

Well past midnight they headed home. Heather thanked Kristin profusely for a "wonderful time" as she crawled out of the car, promising to be in touch. Once again, she had trouble sleeping. This time because of fantastic memories.

They talked on the phone the next day. Another invitation by Kristin to go out the following weekend was again accepted by Heather. She suspected Kristin got tons of offers from guys and wanted to get on her calendar before it was too late.

Identical arrangements were made as the week before and they arrived to another packed house. This time they were fortunate enough to find a table just as a couple were leaving. Several dances and drinks later, they were again alone.

"Kristin, I have a question for you," Heather said, looking at her friend.

"Sure. What?"

"Why are you going out with me and not one of the hundreds of guys who want you?" Heather asked.

Kristin laughed. "Who are these hundreds of guys anyway?"

"If I grabbed the next guy who walked past and asked him if he wanted to go out with you, what do you think he'd say?" Heather said.

Kristin smiled. "He might say 'Yes' if I opened another button," she said, putting her hand on the first unopened button of her blouse.

Heather had to agree the amount of cleavage already being displayed by Kristin was inviting. Another button would put anybody over the edge.

"Come on. I'm serious. Why me?"

Kristin leaned forward. "I like you. I think you're smart, funny...and cute."

"YOU think I'M cute?" Heather said as if astonished.

"Maybe even sexy."

The word hit Heather like a hammer. One of the sexiest girls she'd ever met was calling her sexy. She wondered how the look on her face must have come across to Kristin.

"Come with me." Just as she did the previous week, Kristin took Heather's hand and led her away. This time they bypassed the dance floor and the bar. They headed down a narrow hallway past the restrooms and club offices.

"Where are we going?" Heather asked excitedly.

Kristin didn't answer. She pushed open a metal door at the end of the hall under a red EXIT sign. They walked down two steps and Kristin pulled Heather farther into a nearly pitch black alley.

When Kristin stopped, she faced Heather and pushed her against the building. Instantly, Kristin's lips were on Heather's. Lightly at first. Then harder. And then her tongue was pressing against Heather's mouth.

Heather tried to comprehend what was happening. As soon as she did, she parted her lips and the women's tongues met. Kristin pressed her body against Heather. They both moaned, hands beginning to search each other.

It was the first opportunity Heather had to truly touch Kristin in the manner she'd been thinking about for weeks. She ran her hands up and down Kristin's back, then down to her ass. After a few seconds, Heather ran her fingers through Kristin's silky hair, all the while kissing her more passionately.

The surprise of feeling Kristin's hands on the sides of her breasts caused Heather to break off the kiss for a second.

"Kiss me, Heather," Kristin whispered.

The kiss began anew, this time with Kristin's fingers firmly clutching at Heather's breasts through her shirt.

"This is wrong. This is wrong," Heather screamed inside her own head. But her body disagreed. Her nipples hardened and her pussy tingled. She could feel the rhythm of the music pounding through the wall onto her back, like a wild heartbeat.

Then Kristin's hands were pushing Heather's shirt up. Heather closed her eyes when Kristin ended the kiss and lowered her head. Kristin's lips were between Heather's breasts, above her bra. Kristin kissed both breasts. Then she licked them.

For the first time, Heather dreaded having worn a bra. But Kristin resolved the problem by quickly undoing the front hook and letting the bra cups fall aside. Kristin hungrily sucked on the exposed nipples, resulting in more moans from Heather.

Now Heather's hands were back in action. She nearly tore the buttons off the front of Kristin's blouse as she opened it, desperate to feel the girl's gorgeous breasts. Her own nipples ached with desire as she played with Kristin's, who was sucking and licking Heather in return.

Despite the sexual tension growing inside her body, Heather was on the verge of calling it all off. Things were happening too fast. The feelings were too much to handle.

But then Kristin's hand was fumbling with Heather's zipper. Once it was down she unsnapped the jeans. Before Heather could do anything, Kristin's hand was inside her panties, searching frantically for her pussy.

Electricity jolted through Heather's body the first time Kristin touched her clit.

"Oh, God. Kristin."

With one of Heather's breasts inside her mouth, Kristin pushed her hand down until feeling the moisture surrounding Heather's pussy. Heather tried to catch her breath. Then she gasped loudly when a single finger inserted itself into her cunt.