Laundry Night

"I just assumed that you had a good reason for that," Pamela said.

"Actually, there was," Elaine responded, "I was totally out of clean clothes. If I had gone on a date, I'd have had to have go naked."

"That certainly would've made it more interesting," Pamela smiled, "at least from the lucky gentleman's perspective."

Elaine was sure she was imagining it, but as Pamela made that comment, she looked at her in a way that, if Pamela had been a guy, the brunette would've suspected he was imagining what she would look like naked.

"Laundry day aside," Pamela said, "I find it hard to believe that an attractive young woman like you isn't drawing men to you like moths to a candle."

"Well, to be honest, in the nearly two and a half years since Clark and I separated, I don't think I've been on more than six or seven dates," Elaine stated.

"Really?" Pamela replied, surprise in her voice.

"We were together in high school, since junior year in fact," she expanded, "and like I said, we got married only two months after graduation."

"Isn't that unusual?" Pamela asked.

"Not when the rabbit dies," Elaine said.

"I see," Pamela noted.

"You're looking at the poster girl for the warning that condoms are only ninety-seven percent effective," Elaine grinned. "Or the fact that you really shouldn't carry them around in your wallet for months in anticipation of your girlfriend finally saying yes one night."

"It broke?" Pamela asked.

"Yes indeed," Elaine said adding. "You can also add to that poster the warning that, yes, you can get pregnant your first time."

"You have a child?" Pamela asked.

"No, the pregnancy didn't last," Elaine said, a small but noticeable regret in her voice, "but by the time that happened, we were already married."

Pamela said she was sorry to hear that, and Elaine thanked you.

"Also, as it turned out, the marriage didn't last either," Elaine added.

"What happened? If you don't mind my asking?" Pamela said.

Elaine hesitated for a long moment. It was a question that she'd been asked many times over the last few years, and one that had two answers. The simplistic one that she gave most people, and the more honest one which she rarely shared. She really couldn't explain why, but she felt comfortable giving this woman, who she'd just met, the latter.

"The reason for the breakup that I give most people is the old adage that we simply got married way too young, and that, even just a few years later, we were both very different people," Elaine offered. "And that is at least partially true. The woman I was at twenty-one certainly wasn't the girl I was at eighteen. Clark, however, had changed little from the boy he'd always been. He still expected his wife to take care of him just as his mother had; the only difference was, he got to sleep with his wife."

Elaine stopped for a breath.

"It was that last part that caused the most problems," she said.

"Oh?" Pamela asked, curious as to what that meant.

"I know that a guy's not going to hit a home run every time he comes up to bat," Elaine continued. "In fact, I'd settle for a double, or even a single now and then. Hell, there were nights I'd have been happy for a bunt, just to get on base. But even after three years of marriage, Clark wasn't any more insightful as to what a woman needs than he'd been the first night we did it. I'd have had more chance at an orgasm riding that dilapidated washer during the spin cycle than I would riding his cock."

Pamela couldn't really understand the baseball analogy, but she got the gist of what Elaine was trying to say.

"And then, I had an affair...."

"Oh my," Pamela exclaimed.

"Up until that point, I really only knew what I was missing in an abstract sense," Elaine said. "A feeling that, comparing my sex life with what my girlfriends described, there was something wrong. With nothing really to prove me wrong, I actually thought it might be my fault."

"But then you had an affair," Pamela said.

"Affair might be too strong a word, because it implies that it went on for a while," Elaine explained. "In reality, it was just one time, but that doesn't lessen the fact that I cheated on my husband."

"Who was it?" Pamela asked out of curiosity.

"Who he was really isn't important," Elaine said. "What was important is that he made me feel wanted, and even more importantly, showed me what sex was supposed to be."

"How did your husband find out?"

"I told him."

"You told him?"

"The guilt got to me."

"And he divorced you?"

"No, he forgave me."

"I don't understand."

"When he weighed the fact that I'd slept with another man against the loss of his full time house cleaner, cook and all around caretaker, he didn't think it had been that big a deal," Elaine explained. "That's when it hit me, he would never really change. So I divorced him."

"It sounds as if you made the right decision," Pamela said.

"That's what I keep telling myself," Elaine smiled. "Still, being a twenty-three year old divorcee does have its difficulties."

"Such as?" Pamela asked.

"Well, unless I want to explain everything that I just told you, most men's reaction is that there had to be something wrong with me if I was divorced after only a few years," she answered, "and, if I do tell them the whole story, most men don't get it. All they zoom in on is the fact that I cheated on my husband."

Again, Elaine took a breath.

"Then there are some of them who hear that and quickly make the assumption that I'm an easy fuck," she added. "That for the price of a dinner and a movie, I'd spread my legs for them. Now, to be honest, I'm not as reluctant to do that as before I was married. I have had sex since, but it shouldn't be taken as a given."

"I don't quite know what to say," Pamela replied, not sure how to react.

"You don't have to say anything," Elaine smiled. "It just felt good to say it all. I hope you didn't mind."

"Not at all," Pamela said, returning the smile.

"Maybe you have the right idea," Elaine said after she had another sip of tea.

"Right idea?"

"Keeping it short and simple," Elaine said, "no complicated relationships. Just have some fun and then move on."

"Well, my situation is a bit different," Pamela said, "and I can't say that it's right for everyone."

"Why is it that if a man tries to bed every woman he meets, he's a player, but if a woman does it, she's a slut?" Elaine asked, meaning for the question to be rhetorical. But then, realizing that it could also be taken as accusatorial, she hastily added, "Oh, I didn't mean to imply that you were a ..."

"By some definitions, I guess I am," Pamela offered, "and if some people call me that, well, it's usually someone who doesn't really know me or someone whose opinion hardly matters."

Elaine felt relieved that she hadn't insulted the woman sitting beside her.

"What I mean about my situation being different was," Pamela said, choosing her words carefully, "is that it doesn't involve men."

"I don't understand," Elaine replied.

"Men don't occupy the same place in my life that they do in yours," she added.

"I still don't..." Elaine started to say, then paused in mid-sentence as she suddenly understood what Pamela meant. "You mean you're ...."

".... A lesbian," the older woman said, completing the sentence.

"I've never met a lesbian," Elaine blurted out without thinking. "I mean ..."

"Well, we don't exactly wear signs around our neck," Pamela laughed, "although I know of a few clubs where a particular piece of jewelry carries some significance."

"I'm sorry, I mean, I just never expected ..." Elaine continued to gush.

"Just take a breath, then say whatever you want to say," Pamela said.

"You've never been with a man?" Elaine asked, then quickly offered an apology, saying she had no right to ask something like that.

"It's all right, I'm the one that opened the door," Pamela replied. "And to answer your question, yes, I have been with men."

From the look on Elaine's face, that came as a surprise.

"I haven't been with one since I was, well, maybe a little younger than you, but I didn't just wake up one morning and decide that I didn't like men," Pamela said. "That's a popular but incorrect assumption about lesbians, the idea that they dislike or even hate men. I have a good number of male friends, I just prefer women in my bed."

"Why?" Elaine asked, the question popping into her head.

"That is a question that doesn't have a simple answer," Pamela said. "Suffice to say, it's what makes me happy."

"How did you, I mean, who..." Elaine excitedly asked.

"A friend at that little school outside London that I mentioned," Pamela replied. "We just connected one night and everything seemed to come together. Mind you, it wasn't something we advertised to our friends. It was our secret, one that we kept until we left school."

"You didn't stay together?"

"Courtney, that was her name, had been practically engaged to the son of a family friend since secondary school, and was married the summer after graduation," Pamela explained. "I thought that I would follow the same path eventually, that what we'd shared had just been a fanciful fling."

Elaine listened with fascination.

"Then, one day, I met another woman, who happened to be the sister of a man I had dated a few times, and who, it turned out, proved to be more interested in women than her brother had been. She was the one who introduced me to the fact that there were more women like us out there than I might have imagined," Pamela went on. "They even had a ladies club of sorts, calling themselves "Victoria's Girls," after the fact that, according to legend, Queen Victoria had supposedly struck out the term lesbians from the nineteenth century law that made male homosexuality illegal but not lesbianism."

"Did that really happen?" Elaine asked.

"I don't know," Pamela admitted, "but sometimes, legends get repeated so often that they almost become facts."

"And you've only been with women since?" Elaine asked.

Pamela nodded her head.

"I made out with a girl once," Elaine unexpectedly said. "Jenny Miller. W,e were summer camp counselors together."

"Did you enjoy it?" Pamela asked, the curiosity in her voice clear.

"I love kissing," Elaine said, "and Jenny was a really good kisser."

"Anything else?" Pamela further asked.

"Well, there was a little touching too, but only above the waist," Elaine confessed.

They talked a bit more, and as they did, Pamela realized that she too found it easy to talk to the woman next to her, sharing secrets that she hadn't shared in a very long time.

-=-=-=-

This time, Elaine did hear the end of cycle alarm, as the dryer she used was closer to the back of the apartment than the one Pamela had used. As fascinating as the last few hours had been, it was now time to bring them to a close, as much as she didn't want to.

"I guess that's my cue to say goodnight," Elaine said reluctantly.

"I suppose so," Pamela replied, picking up on the disappointment in her tone. "But I have to say, I don't believe I've ever enjoyed laundry night so much."

"Me too," Elaine smiled in agreement.

Both women rose from the couch and started to head for the door. As they did so, it occurred to Elaine that, given that Pamela didn't actually live in the building, much less the same borough, it was unlikely that she'd run into her again anytime soon -- if ever. Especially since, as she'd mentioned earlier, the Englishwoman spent part of each month in London. The thought made her sad.

Reaching the door, Pamela was just reaching to undo the lock when Elaine gave way to an impulsive thought. Stepping into the small space between the tall blonde and the door, she threw her arms around Pamela's neck and, pulling her towards her, kissed her.

It was a soft kiss, lasting only seconds, just long enough for Elaine to feel a sudden distress at what she had done. Quickly withdrawing her arms, she took a big step backward and began to profusely apologize.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done that," she said. "I don't know what came over me. I just..."

"It's okay," Pamela said, cutting her off. "I didn't mind. In fact, I rather enjoyed it. Did you?"

"I..." Elaine hesitated, then admitted that she had.

"Was it as good as kissing Jenny Miller?" Pamela asked, an impish smile on her face.

"I'm not sure," came Elaine's reply.

"To be honest, that wasn't really a fair question," Pamela observed, her smile now broader. "After all, what can you tell from just one kiss?"

Then, stepping forward to close the distance between them, Pamela leaned down and tilted Elaine's head upward, lowering her own at the same time until their lips again met.

Whereas their first kiss had been soft, with lips barely brushing against each other, the second was of longer duration and more fervent. During the course of it, Pamela's tongue made its way into Elaine's mouth, caressing the soft wetness within.

Without pause, a third kiss followed, one accompanied by the press of Pamela's hand on Elaine's left breast, cupping the rounded orb through the thin material of the cheaply made t-shirt. As the blonde's fingertips rubbed against the brunette's pert nipple, the latter moaned in satisfaction.

"That feels nice," she said.

"It can feel nicer, if you want it to," Pamela offered, adding after a breath that the laundry wasn't going anywhere.

"I guess not," Elaine replied as, now pressing her tongue past Pamela's lips, she yielded to rising desire.

That was enough for Pamela. Taking hold of the bottom of Elaine's shirt, she lifted it high enough to expose the rounded breast beneath it. Looking down at the brunette's chest, the blonde let out a sigh of admiration.

"The first thing that I thought when I saw you in the laundry room," she said, "was that you had beautiful breasts."

"They're not as big as yours," Elaine pointed out.

"Size isn't everything," Pamela replied as, leaning downward and cradling Elaine's breasts in her hands, she kissed one nipple, then the other, twirling her tongue around the tiny areola that surrounded each.

She continued to lick and kiss Elaine's mounds, teasing the hardened tips with her tongue and lips. Then she returned her attention to the brunette's lips, kissing them again.

"If at any time you want to stop, just tell me," Pamela whispered into her ear once their lips parted. "I don't think you will, but it's important for you to know that you can."

Pamela waited until Elaine acknowledged her words with a nod of her head, then slipped behind her, again cupping the brunette's unrestrained breasts through her shirt, squeezing them softly as again she paid special attention to their thick nipples.

Closing her eyes, Elaine moaned softly, pressing her body back against Pamela's. A sense of excitement filled her, one long absent from her life and akin to what she had felt in her late teens, when sex was still a forbidden thing.

After squeezing Elaine's breasts one last time, Pamela released her hold on them and ran her hands down the length of the smaller woman's body, across her exposed stomach, until they again reached the bottom of her shirt. This time, Pamela gripped both sides tightly before pulling it up and over the brunette's head, dropping it off to the side once it was clear.

Before it could even hit the floor, Pamela's hands again wrapped around Elaine's breasts, the warmth of bare flesh against flesh sending an excited thrill through each of them. One that caused their bodies to quiver with delight and appreciative moans to spill from their mouths.

Keeping one hand playing with Elaine's breasts, Pamela brought the other down to the thin cloth belt that held up the brunette's cutoffs. There she deftly used it to undo both the military style buckle, and the small buttons that held the pants in place. Once released, Elaine's shorts slid down her legs of their own accord.

Its initial task completed, Pamela moved her hand down between Elaine's legs, softly stroking the thickly haired mound between them. Her index finger ran along the thin pink line between the two halves, moving upward until it reached and further exposed an already excited clitoris.

"Oh God, yes!" Elaine gasped loudly.

Pamela stroked the sensitive flesh a few more times, each touch generating a stronger reaction. Then she unexpectedly withdrew her hand, bringing it and its twin to Elaine's shoulders, there to turn the woman in her arms so that they were again face to face.

Once more their lips met, after which Pamela turned her attention, first to Elaine's neck, then her shoulder, and finally the upper half of the smaller woman's left breast. All the while, her right hand caressed its counterpart.

"Such beautiful breasts," Pamela said softly, barely a breath before she dropped her head low enough to plant a kiss on each nipple before taking each in turn between her lips, her tongue caressing their hardness as she did so.

'Oh yes!' Elaine thought as she laid a hand on the back of Pamela's head to urge her to do more.

And more she did, moving between each soft mound, her tongue and mouth demonstrating the skills she'd learned through years of practice. Simultaneously, and without withdrawing from her other efforts, Pamela again laid a hand on the mound between Elaine's legs, rubbing it repeatedly. She slipped two drawn fingers deep within the younger woman's pussy, pressing her thumb against the underside of her clitoris.

"Sweet Jesus!" Elaine exclaimed under her breath.

Elaine had first discovered the joys of self-love in her teens, and in later years the further delight of having another's hand there in lieu of her own. Talented as some of the men who had been there before had been, none exhibited the proficiency Pamela demonstrated as she quickly discovered Elaine's most sensitive spots, probing deep within her and sending oscillating waves of delight dancing across her body.

Pamela continued for long minutes, then removed both her hand and the mouth, which had been wrapped around the brunette's left breast. Before what was happening could even fully register on Elaine, she felt her legs being parted and the space there created filled by Pamela's body as the tall woman dropped down to her knees.

Reaching out with an extended hand, Pamela deftly parted the folds of the brunette's pussy, exposing the rich pinkness within. Then, without hesitation, she replaced the touch of her hand with that of her tongue, sending a surge akin to a bolt of lightning ripping through Elaine's body. A sensation the brunette couldn't find the words to describe.

Elaine had always felt that most men, her husband included, only performed cunnilingus out of a sense of obligation, or at least as part of a quid pro quo. She'd heard some claim to actually like it, but had found those claims doubtful. With Pamela, however, it was immediately clear that, not only did she love it, she lived for it. Few things excited her as much as the idea of going down on another woman, especially a sapphic virgin.

Her tongue seemed everywhere at once, alive with enthusiasm as she moved between Elaine's clit and the inner reaches of her pussy. In less time than she'd ever imagined possible, Pamela brought Elaine to the edge of orgasm and, short moments later, beyond it.

"Oh my God!" Elaine cried out as she pressed against the back of the apartment door.

Her naked body quivered with joy as wave after wave of delight washed over her. Never in her life had she imagined she could climax so hard, or that it could feel so good.

It was as if time stood still and the world around her disappeared, lost in the fiery explosion that ripped through her. She couldn't even feel the beating of her heart, or the rise and fall of her lungs.

Then, ever so slowly, the world slowly reappeared and the functions of her body returned, although it took several long moments before she could be sure. Even longer for her to discover where her voice had gotten to.