Sylvia, Neil and Bobbie, Too

"Oh, God! Those big, sweet tits!" She yelped. Her words echoed from the walls.

The sound of her own voice jolted her out of her reverie. Sylvia opened her eyes to see Bobbie gazing at her. She didn't stop masturbating. She wasn't going to let that slip destroy the pleasure she was giving herself.

Also teetering on the edge, Bobbie let out a big, beautiful smile. She tugged at her bra, and the next moment, her big tit flopped out for Sylvia to behold.

She gazed at Bobbie's luscious breast, her mouth agape, her pussy about to burst. It was exactly as she envisioned, with its big, dark areola and unspeakably huge, pointed nipple.

"Uh huh! Uh huh!" Sylvia managed to gasp, nodding her head, eyes wide.

The next moment, Bobbie's face contorted, her body jerking as she climaxed. Still, she never broke her gaze from Sylvia's eyes.

The next moment, Sylvia followed suit, her body spasming as both women fought to keep from crying out. Bobbie nodded her head, the smile returning to her face as both women massaged out wave after wave of pleasure.

"Goddamnit, honey!" Bobbie rasped. "That's what I'm talking about."

All Sylvia could do is let out a loud sigh, savoring the elation of sweet release.

Jesus fucking Christ, that was incredible, but what have we done?

For several minutes, their hands remained on their pussies, fingers dipping into their slick, wet vaginas, as they luxuriated in sweet afterglow. It was Sylvia who withdrew her hand first. Boldly, she licked her juices from her fingers, keeping watch on Bobbie as her friend followed suit.

Goddamn, this is so kinky. But I want to do it again and again. So very sweet and sexy.

After a moment, Bobbie reluctantly broke the spell.

"I think lunchtime is over, honey," she smiled with sadness in her eyes.

"Oh, no."

Sylvia started getting to her feet, but stumbled. Bobbie was there to catch her.

"Steady, girl." Bobbie couldn't help but press her mounds against her friend's shoulder as she helped Sylvia gain balance. Neither one of them had buttoned their blouses yet and Bobbie's breast was still exposed.

Oh, God, what is wrong with me? I can't stand on my own! Bobbie feels so good, so warm and soft. And those tits!

Fighting to gain her balance, and to overcome her desire, and failing, Sylvia pressed her face into Bobbie's breasts, quickly finding a nipple.

Goddammit, I can't help myself! This is so good, I can't let it slip away!

Bobbie didn't resist as her friend began sucking, her lips curled back, whimpering with need.

"Ohhh..." She exhaled, pressing her pillowy breast against Sylvia's face, "GodDAMN...YES!"

Bobbie held her friend steady as she nursed, nuzzling the top of her head, kissing it.

Fuck, this is insane, but it feels so good. I haven't had a hungry mouth on my tits in years. But we have to get back to the office!

With great reluctance, Bobbie whispered.

"Honey, pull yourself together." She kissed Sylvia's hair again, hating the words that fell from her mouth. "As much as I love this, we must get back."

Sylvia, nodding, released her friend's breast, now glistening with saliva. She couldn't look up, feeling deeply ashamed for losing control. She couldn't look into Bobbie's eyes.

"Oh, my god, Bobbie." Her voice quivered with embarrassment. "What have I done?"

Bobbie took Sylvia's chin and, lifting her face to meet her gaze, kissed her on the mouth. Sylvia jumped slightly, unsure of how to respond, but let Bobbie kiss her just the same.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, honey." Bobbie tucked her breast away, straightening her blouse and fastening the buttons. Then she did the same for her friend. "We can talk later, but..." She gripped Sylvia's hand and pulled her out of their secret lair, back through the dusty dressing room and murky bathroom, back into the filtered sunlight of the main hallway.

The elevator hummed in the background during their short ride down. Both of them gazed vacantly at the patinaed Art Deco metalwork lining the ceiling of the elevator car, silent. Shortly before the doors opened, Bobbie spoke.

"It's Friday, and I think we need to have a drink after work."

Sylvia nodded, still unable to look her friend in the eyes.

"Because it's Friday, yes," she parroted Bobbie's words, her mind churning with other thoughts.

My God, am I now a lesbian? A dyke?

Sylvia cleared her throat self-consciously, focusing her thoughts more.

Bobbie's right, girl. Pull yourself together.

"We can go to that quiet bar across the street." She finally looked into Bobbie's eyes. "Nothing wrong with two friends having a drink after work."

Bobbie returned her nervous friend's gaze and smiled.

"Nothing wrong with that at all, my love."

Sylvia couldn't help but smile and snicker, placing her hand on her mouth.

The remainder of the work day, although lasting only a few hours in real time, lingered on for several weeks in both women's minds. As five o'clock neared, people started putting things away and locking up for the weekend, rising from their desks and shuffling out the door. Sylvia looked toward Bobbie's desk. Bobbie was already looking back at her friend as she rose from her chair, placing the plastic dust cover over her IBM Selectric and switching off the fluorescent desk lamp.

They stood together in the packed elevator, side by side, looking at nothing in particular as the car made its way down, but feeling the nearness and heat of each other's bodies. Bobbie surreptitiously interlaced her fingers with Sylvia's, squeezing her hand. Sylvia squeezed back until the elevator door opened.

A light rain had started to fall, making everything glisten wetly as the women scurried to their destination.

Il Mandolino had existed on the corner of Green and Lampson since the First World War. Through its many incarnations over the years, it remained a dark and smoky chamber divided into two halves -- a bar area with enough light to facilitate drinking and conversation, and the opposite wall, lined with plush leather booths lit only by a single candle in a red, opaque glass holder, for patrons desiring privacy. The two women had to focus on the bar side until their eyes became accustomed to the dim surroundings. Sylvia fished around in her purse.

"Oh, shit." She furrowed her brow, turning to Bobbie. "Do you have a dime for the pay phone? I should call Neil and let him know I'll be a little late."

Bobbie reached into her coin purse and produced a silver dime.

"Thanks." Sylvia disappeared into the rear area, where a wooden phone booth hid in a dark corner. A small light inside the booth illuminated her face as Bobbie watched her feed the dime into the slot, dial a number, then speak.

A stout but solid-looking bartender with thinning hair leaned over the counter, distracting Bobbie.

"What'll you ladies have?"

"I'll have an Old Fashioned," Bobbie said, noticing his pencil-thin moustache and dark eyes. She glanced back to her friend in the phone booth. "And she'll have a dry white wine." "Coming right up," the bartender smiled. Bobbie returned the smile, noticing his rolled-up sleeves, and wondered for a moment what it would feel like to be held in his burly arms. He reminded her of a younger, handsomer Broderick Crawford.

Sylvia returned, eyes gleaming. Her nervousness had dissipated for the moment.

"Okay, I'm free for awhile."

"Good." Bobbie motioned to the bartender, pointing to a booth in the back corner. He nodded. She placed her hand around Sylvia's waist as they made their way into the darkness.

"Do you think this is secluded enough?" Sylvia giggled, unsure of what to say as the bartender placed their drinks on the round table. Bobbie didn't answer, but pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. She extracted one and placed it between her lips.

"Need a light?" He asked.

She nodded, watching the bartender's arms as he reached into his apron pocket to produce an ornate matchbox. He pulled out a long match and struck it on the side of the box. A burst of light illuminated Bobbie's face as the sulfur tip crackled to life. She drew on the cigarette, making the tip sizzle a bright, yellowish red. Sylvia watched as she blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

"Anything else, ladies?" He purred, looking directly at Bobbie.

"Uh...no, thank you!" Bobbie, transfixed by his gaze, managed to respond. She noted that he chose to deliver the drinks himself instead of passing them along to the girl waiting on the other tables.

"See what I mean?" Sylvia whispered as he walked away. "Men want you!

"Oh, please." Bobbie felt her cheeks flush, grateful for the dim light. She took another drag on the cigarette. "He's just doing his job." Still, she glanced over to the bar and saw that he was looking back. Quickly, she averted her gaze.

God, he could manhandle me any damn time.

Sylvia's hand caressing her arm returned Bobbie's thoughts to the moment. She looked at her friend's face in the flickering candlelight. What would she say next?

Oh, what the hell. Go for it!

"How about you drop by my place for a late lunch tomorrow?" Bobbie said, feeling her chest flutter as she forced out the words. She flicked her cigarette in the boomerang-shaped Bakelite ashtray in front of her. "We have a lot to talk about."

"Oh, my!" Sylvia's pearlescent teeth glinted as her lips curled up in a grin. She paused for a moment, stroking the stem of her wineglass. "Why, of course! That would be wonderful!"

Jesus, what mischief we could get into all by ourselves and with some privacy. Shit, I can't help but think about it. It might turn out to be nothing, but still...

"You're not obligated to," Bobbie backtracked a bit, wondering if she had been too forward.

Sylvia's eyes reflected the wavering light.

"I know that, yes, but you're right. We have a lot to talk about."

Talk and maybe who knows what else?

Sylvia's pupils had dilated, her face relaxing since those uncertain moments in the green room. Bobbie wanted to kiss her right there and then, but instead took a long sip from her drink. Her friend did the same, downing half her glass of wine.

"That's good," Bobbie nodded, feeling the alcohol's effect, unsure of how to continue the conversation. She hadn't been in this position for years, especially with a woman. She felt like she was on a romantic date, traveling back through the years, before her marriage, half-expecting to hear big band music in the background, gazing into the eyes of a young lover.

She took a hungry drag on her cigarette.

"I'll make some salmon croquettes with dill sauce?" She found her hand resting on Sylvia's thigh. "A green salad, too, with croutons?"

"Mmmm, yes on both counts!" Sylvia's voice and gaze reflected the passion smoldering in both of them. "What shall I bring?"

"Nothing but yourself." Bobbie fought for control. Her pussy throbbed as she marveled at the softness of her friend's thigh. "I have a fully stocked bar, and sodas, if that's more to your liking."

"Hmmm, we'll see." Sylvia raised an eyebrow, placing her hand on top of Bobbie's, pressing it down.

They laughed, gazing into each other's eyes, both feeling giddy and naughty as they crossed into unknown territory. The next moment, Sylvia glanced over her friend's shoulder. Her brow furrowed.

"What is it?" Bobbie asked. Sylvia looked at her friend's face.

"Don't react, but a couple of guys are checking us out."

"Oh, really?" Bobbie didn't move her head.

"Believe me, I don't think we want these two." She downed the remainder of her wine. "Oh, shit."

"What, are they coming this way?"

"Of course." There was no mistaking the annoyance in Sylvia's voice.

"It can't be that bad," Bobbie whispered, then turned to gaze at the unsavory duo standing immediately behind her.

"Oh, yes it is!" Bobbie added, her eyes widening in surprise and thinly-veiled disgust.

Although clad in business suits and ties, it took Bobbie and Sylvia less than two seconds to size up the men, and they were not impressed. One was fat and balding, with a rumpled suit and reddened cheeks. The other looked like a scarecrow, gaunt with eyes bulging. Fatso sported the expression of a stud on the prowl, while Scarecrow merely stared at them with his headlight eyes.

"Hellooo, ladies!" Fatso crooned, his head nodding with approval as he made a show of inspecting them. Scarecrow remained silent.

"Hello." Bobbie managed to push the word out of her mouth without grimacing. Sylvia merely nodded once, her brow still furrowed.

"I see you two are alone," Fatso grinned with uneven teeth. Sylvia mentally completed his next sentence.

May we join you?

"May we join you?" He echoed a second later.

Bobbie was speechless. In spite of her need for human companionship, there was no way she'd stoop so low. She wondered if the overpowering stench of Aqua Velva and stale cigarette smoke came from the fat one or the beanpole, who still hadn't said a word.

Sweet Jesus, thank you for reminding me why I haven't been dating!

Sylvia piped up.

"Oh, we're sorry," she feigned regret, but not too much. "We're just having a chat about work. You know, really confidential stuff." She almost added that they worked for a legal firm, but caught herself, not wanting to give them any leads.

Fatso wasn't having any of that.

"Oh, come on." His oily face reflected the candlelight, making him look even more repugnant. "You can talk about that later. Maybe we can get acquainted."

He started to grab a chair, but Bobbie stopped him.

"No, this is serious business we're discussing," she puffed on her smoke, hand shaking somewhat. "I'm afraid we don't have time for fun."

Fatso's face registered the rejection, the sleazy glint leaving his eyes. Scarecrow still didn't utter a word, but kept staring at them, his eyes about to pop out of his skull. The mood quickly went south.

"Well, pardon us!" Fatso said in an overstated manner. He might have been Jackie Gleason's ne'er-do-well brother, what with his emoting. "I guess we're..."

"Hey!" Bobbie blurted out, cutting him off. "You don't get it, huh?" With that, she crushed out her cigarette angrily, sparks flying all around the table. She fixed her eyes on him, voice quivering with rage. "We're lesbians, okay? Homosexuals! Dykes!"

THAT will get rid of these bastards!

Now it was Sylvia's eyes that bugged out as she choked on her saliva. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Now fuck off!" Bobbie's words raised a few faces in the distance, barely visible in the low light.

Suddenly, the bartender loomed behind the two would-be suitors.

"Hey," he said and, with a stern glare, made a single sweep of his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the men should leave the premises. "No trouble here. Hit the road!"

"Okay, okay!" Fatso backed off, putting his hands up in surrender. He looked at the women, then back at the bartender. "We don't want anything to do with these..." He paused a second to search for his next words. "...muff divers anyway!"

The bartender stepped between them and the women, his face only inches from Fatso's. Clearly intimidated, Fatso backed up, sweat beading on his shiny brow, but managed to squeeze off one more shot.

"What kind of place lets dykes inside?" He was speaking more to the room, making a show of things, than the bartender in front of him. "What if the police knew about this? This is an outrage!"

Suddenly, the pile of slime developed a twisted sense of morality. The bartender quivered, hands by his side, clenching his fists. In spite of her anger, Bobbie drank in the sight of his flexing muscles.

Oh, honey, just mop up the floor with this jerk and then rape me again and again!

"Five seconds, big boy." The bartender gave his final warning.

Fatso turned and scuttled away, followed closely by the silent Scarecrow, as if they were attached by a short rope. A smattering of light applause sounded in the room.

Once they had exited, the bartender turned back toward Bobbie and Sylvia. Bobbie immediately began talking a mile a minute.

"I didn't mean what I said!" She was beside herself, trying to explain the outburst. "We're not dykes! We were just trying..."

"Hey, it's okay." The bartender placed a strong hand on her shoulder. The pressure felt good. Bobbie fell into silence. "You don't have to explain anything to me, honey."

Sylvia watched as her friend's mouth fell open, still silent. She also realized Bobbie's trembling hand, cold and sweaty, was about to crush hers.

"It's the Age of Aquarius and I don't judge people that way."

"But really..." Bobbie couldn't help but get lost in his eyes, letting his silky voice wash over her. Her voice relaxed. "We're not."

The next moment, Bobbie found her hand grasping his forearm, something that didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Dykes, indeed." He raised an eyebrow and straightened, gently removing Bobbie's hand from his arm and squeezing it. "You two have another round on me."

As they nursed their second round of drinks, recovering from the bad experience, Bobbie mumbled, mostly to herself.

"Why did I think we could have a decent conversation at a bar?"

"It's not your fault, love." Now it was Sylvia who squeezed Bobbie's thigh. "This is still a wonderful place to meet." She leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Now you better get that bartender's name, dammit, or I will!"

Bobbie chuckled gently, red lips touching her half-empty glass. She tried not to respond to Sylvia's sweet breath caressing her neck, but it made her pussy glow like a pool of molten lava.

God, I can't wait until tomorrow, come what may.

Sylvia arrived home after dark, kicking her pumps off at the door.

"Honey, I'm home!" She shouted, tossing her keys on the kitchen counter. She couldn't see her son in the living room, watching TV. He responded.

"I'm in here, Mom!"

Unbuttoning her blouse, she walked into the living room. Neil, as was his habit, splayed himself on the sofa, legs apart, transfixed by the flickering light of the television set.

"How are you? Have you recovered from your traumatic morning?" She asked facetiously.

Where I saw your beautiful, naked body, you sexy young man?

Neil rolled his eyes at her, his head askance.

"Uh, yeah, Mom," he shrugged. "I hope you had a good time with, who was it, Bobbie?"

Sylvia perched on the ottoman next to Neil's chair.

"Yes, do you remember her?" She slowly rubbed her stockinged feet and calves.

"Uh huh."

"You were probably just in grade school when we went to that party."

Sylvia had visited Bobbie's house several years ago to attend a Tupperware party with a group of other women. Her original plan was to leave Neil with her regular babysitter but, at the last minute, the young girl came down with the flu and had to cancel. Sylvia just scooped Neil up and brought him with her.

"I don't remember much of the party, just that she's pretty, prettier than a lot of the women there."

Neil's comment surprised his mother.

Well that's an interesting thing to say. He was so young then.

"You think so?"

"Yes. She was very kind and friendly. Really warm. Some of the other ladies weren't so much."

"I'm surprised you recall anything from that long ago."

"Well, I remember her." Neil squirmed a bit, adjusting his shorts, distracting his mother for a second.

Shit. Stop looking, girl.

"It was nice to have some girl time with her and talk," Sylvia continued. "I think we're becoming good friends." She smiled inwardly.

Very, very good friends!

"Good." Neil said, his eyes never leaving the TV. "With everything you do, you need some friends as a diversion."