Late Night Ferry Ride

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Did she or didn't she?
1.5k words
4.14
10.7k
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The last ferry of the night pulled out right on schedule. Vickie was out of breath from dashing down the rain-slick sidewalks, jaywalking dangerously and ignoring the flashing red 'no-walk' lights on almost every street corner. She sprinted onto the gangplank just as the deep sounding horn blasted over her head; the tired and bored worker hardly glancing at her ticket as he hurriedly stretched the chain closed behind her. She was the last passenger to board and the water immediately began to churn violently below her as the mega-ferry slid smoothly from its berth.

Late night sailings from Seattle, especially on a Friday, seemed to always leave exactly on time. Vickie was positive that the captains took perverse pleasure in making sure any poor harried commuter who dared be as much as one minute late was stranded until the next morning. She usually tried to leave work early and aim for the late afternoon sailings, but today had been just one of those days where absolutely nothing went right. Barely catching her breath, she scampered up the hard metal steps to the main deck, heading to the far end of the mammoth ship.

Hoping to claim one of the few enclosed benches that afforded power and Wi-Fi as well as a modicum of privacy, she hurried past the dimly-lit galley, empty except for a young woman buying a steaming cup of coffee. She looked up as Vickie passed and their eyes met and momentarily locked. Vickie was immediately struck by the Taylor Swift, blowjob-red lipstick the woman was wearing, somehow appearing garish and out of place in the gray, conservative milieu of Seattle. Vickie smiled involuntarily at her before turning to continue down the aisle.

There were surprisingly few passengers this night, other than the usual burned-out-looking lawyers escaping the city for the small towns across the sound. Luckily, most of the main deck was empty and the few scattered walk-ons were already stretching out on the hard plastic benches, hoping to catch an hour of sleep after the long work-week.

Vickie stepped into the empty front cubicle, dropping exhaustedly onto the slick, plastic covered bench. Pleased to find the room warm after the cold and rainy city, she slipped out of her damp suit-jacket, kicked off her shoes and curled her long legs up under her. She pulled the laptop from her briefcase and sat it on the tiny table before leaning back, resting her exhausted eyes while it booted up. The dull shaking of the ferry as it gained speed rumbled throughout the metal deck and she unconsciously squirmed deeper into her seat. That was the thing Vickie enjoyed most about her watery commute; the relaxing, rhythmic, and secretly erotic vibrations of the massive engines pulsing throughout the steel-hulled ship.

She reluctantly pulled the computer onto her lap, intending to review the documents that glared impatiently before her. From the corner of her eye she noticed the woman that had been buying coffee walk slowly along the deck toward her cubicle. She paused momentarily, glancing ever-so casually at Vickie. A tiny, indecipherable smile spread to her bright red lips before quietly continuing past.

Vickie was surprised as she noticed how attractive the woman appeared close up and how ethereal she looked. She turned and looked over her shoulder, her eyes following the woman's slow walk and admiring the motion of her tight slacks until she reached the end of the aisle. She watched as the woman stopped momentarily as if deciding whether to continue on or turn back, then crossed slowly to the other side of the ship. Hesitating again, she pointedly glanced back over her shoulder to lock eyes with Vickie before slowly slipping out of sight. The same enigmatic look was on her face; her fiery red lips slightly parted and the seemed to be smiling directly into the deepest recesses of Vickie's mind.

The computer suddenly began flashing, interrupting Vickie's reverie. She reached for her earbuds and quickly hooked them to the computer, opened Pandora to a program of slow, mellow classics and snapped the lid closed, mercifully returning the room to its welcome semi-darkness. She took a long, deep breath, feeling her tired eyes droop sleepily shut. The woman's face slowly swam into focus in the dreamy space behind her eyelids, a warm glow spreading through her body. She felt herself being lulled into a sleep-like, erotic trance as the ferry's pulsing vibration and the woman's intriguing image relaxed and warmed her.

The weekend ahead promised to be quiet and uneventful. Since she broke up with Damon, her long-term boyfriend, and moved into the cozy apartment she now called home, her social life had become practically non-existent. She loved not having to plan activities or dance to other people's dictates. She had yet to become bored and missed nothing of her previous life, with the possible exception of the intimacy her randy ex was always ready for.

Dreamily, her thoughts drifted to the enjoyment her body could provide—it was the main reason she had moved in with Damon. With his imaginative and enthusiastic sexuality, he had nurtured an acceptance of her own passion she never knew she was capable of, or that even existed. Together they had explored many of the activities she at first thought repugnant, then merely kinky; and finally, a major and gratifying part of their sex life.

Unfortunately, his other personality traits and lack of interest in contributing to their financial condition soon soured her on their living arrangements. They agreed to split and go their own way and she had found the quiet and relaxing life away from the city to fit her needs perfectly.

The relaxing throb of the ferry subtly increased tempo as it rounded Evergreen Point and headed into open water. She snuggled deeper into her seat and let her thoughts drift back to the enigmatic woman she continued to visualize drifting past her cozy little cubicle.

What would making love with her be like, she wondered? Vickie's only lesbian experience had been when Damon surprised her one night during an alcohol-laced party by bringing an attractive young woman into their bed. At first she was shocked and found it to be scary and distasteful. However, with Damon's persistent urging she reluctantly relaxed enough to accept the woman's advances and finally to return them. Although she didn't know her and never saw her again, she remembered the experience as highly erotic and quite pleasurable. The memory continued to intrigue her, but not enough to repeat.

The allure of the woman on the ferry, however, had been immediate and visceral; an attraction Vickie instinctively felt was mutual. As she drifted off she could almost imagine the seat next to her sagging and the warmth of the woman's hip touching hers, soft fingers reaching to silently open the top button of her blouse. As the music from her earbuds gently transported her deeper into a blissful torpor she sighed contentedly, a vision of the Taylor Swift-like red lips smiling and inviting her to relax even more.

*

The blast of the ferry's horn startled her from a deep, erotic dream. Where had the time gone? It seemed like she had just closed her eyes when the giant ship's vibration slowed to a dull rumble. As it decreased speed and glided into the dock, Vickie franticly gathered her purse and computer, jamming her arms into her jacket and lurching to her feet. There were only a few other walk-on passengers scurrying along with her on the overhead gangplank, all silent and huddled against the driving rain. She looked into the unloading and darkened cars as they rushed past, hoping to catch another glimpse of the object of her dream.

Shivering from the damp cold, she retrieved her car from the parking lot and drove quickly toward her apartment, anxious to get out of the foul weather. Her thoughts remained on the woman and she felt a sudden loss that she could not understand. As soon as she got home, she poured a glass of wine and carried it into the bathroom, kicking off her shoes and dropping her business suit as she went.

Nothing like a hot shower and a glass of wine to relax and put the week behind her, she thought. Glancing in the large counter-to-ceiling mirrors as she slipped off her skirt, she reached to open her pale cream blouse. Her mouth dropped open as she noticed the buttons were misaligned—off by at least two buttons.

Impossible, she thought immediately. She always prided herself on the way she dressed, taking meticulous care with every detail of her outfits. Her blouses were always thin and silky enough to barely show the delicate lace of her bra, the buttons strategically left open just enough to offer an inviting glimpse of cleavage but closed enough to maintain a professional and dignified allure. She never would have dressed so sloppily and if she somehow had, she surely would have noticed early in the day. Her fingers were shaking as she hurriedly unbuttoned and removed the blouse. She reached behind to unsnap her bra, letting it slide smoothly down her arms and off her breasts. Looking at the naked reflection before her, the shock she felt almost caused her to faint.

A smudge of kiss marks trailed from the first swell of her breast down to her fully engorged, fire-engine-red nipple.

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5 Comments
auspurpleauspurple7 months ago

excellent reading....

liz33ndliz33ndalmost 6 years ago
very sexy

fantasy or just a good reading experience, yummy

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 8 years ago
More!

Please, please continue!!!

While I wait for Chapter 2, I will imagine that I was the TS lookalike.

xx

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 8 years ago
Atmospheric

I enjoyed this. You paint a good word picture and this one was quite erotic.

luedonluedonalmost 8 years ago
Subtitled 'Did she or didn't she?'

Well, if she didn't, somebody did.

An enigmatic little story. Cute.

L

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