Taking In Strays

"Oh, she hasn't left yet. I fucked her all night. The sun had been up more than an hour this morning before I finally let her fall asleep. By that time, she was skillfully eating my pussy," Grace said, her voice filled with pride. Looking down at her phone, she added, "I must have worn the girl out. She's been asleep for about twelve hours now."

"Grace!" I said, exasperation evident in my voice. "That woman has at least a teenage daughter that was expecting her home this morning. That poor child is probably worried to death by now. Go wake that woman up so she can get home to her kid."

As if the idea had never occurred to her, Grace suddenly seemed alarmed as well. "Oh shit, you're probably right. I don't need the kid calling the cops and them tracing her car here. Darren wouldn't like that."

And with that, I watched as she hurried up the stairs and through the door of her suite.

I was still lying there fifteen minutes later when the door opened, and a beautiful blonde stepped out onto the landing. When the fledgling bisexual's eyes met mine, I waved up at her drawing a sheepish grin back in reply. My one of a kind cousin came out of the door behind her, surreptitiously holding two fingers in a V while flicking her tongue between them. She followed the gorgeous mother down the stairs and out into the driveway. I felt the urge to peep on what was going on, but I restrained myself.

My body usually reacted to Grace's tales, but this time it had done so excessively so. It wasn't so much the story itself, which was no more arousing than her typical fare. It was the fact that her conquest had been a woman my age, a straight woman with a kid.

Maybe it worried me a bit that she'd so quickly turned this woman away from her heterosexual lifestyle simply based on her curiosity. Since becoming close with Grace, I'd rapidly grown aware of an interest in the fairer sex. Surely this woman's had been much stronger than mine, and that could never happen to me?

It was a trip to a dance club one Saturday night while Darren was away on business that really ignited my curiosity, though. I'd been goaded into going by Grace and her friends. They convinced me I needed to get out of the house and get a little fun in my life. They teased me endlessly about how they wouldn't allow any lesbians to take advantage of my virtue.

It was while standing at that crowded bar in the Buckhead section of Atlanta that the seeds of change in my life were planted. Grace, who I'd learned by then, was considered a femme-butch within the lesbian community, worked the dance-floor like an artist. It was evident she was in high demand, and seeing the way women were drawn to her now made the endless parade of attractive females traipsing up and down the stairs to her suite over the garage make far more sense.

It was my first experience seeing women kiss and grind against each other. No shame or insecurity haunted them as they did. They were completely uninhibited in their passion, and I had to admit, it was a beautiful and inspiring thing to see.

Standing there at that bar, I was at a loss for the tingles I felt growing between my thighs. It wasn't any particular one person that was causing it. No, it was the sights before me and the admittedly titillating thoughts of two women together that had aroused me.

After I'd had time to consume a couple of drinks, my niece evilly sent over a couple of very young and attractive young women to drag me out on the dance floor. At first, I just stood there embarrassed as they both wiggled and gyrated against me. But after a few minutes, my hips began to move of their own volition. Both girls ran their hands over my body and seemed to take great pleasure in the flushed response they received from me. Though their hands never touched me anywhere too indiscrete, they did spend a lot of time roaming over my hips and backside and encircling my waist. They kept me on the dance floor for three songs. By the time I made my way back to the bar to quench the thirst I'd built up, the sweat running between my breasts wasn't the only wetness present on my body.

The two girls in question did share an Uber home with us that night. Of course, they weren't coming home with me. They both ascended the stairway leading above the garage after hugging me goodnight. Both seemed intent on becoming new notches on Grace's bedpost, and the grin on my cousin's face as she waived me a goodnight said she already had her knife out to do the carving.

I ended up going dancing with Grace and her companions several more times when Darren was away for work, and even once or twice when he was home. My husband never was one for the bar scene, and his two left feet and a general lack of rhythm precluded any dancing. Considering he usually played a couple of rounds of golf on Saturdays when the weather was beautiful. Darren was more than happy to relax in his recliner and watch a ball game with a glass of scotch while I danced the night away.

Each time I went, seemed to nourish the seeds that had taken root the night they initially brought me to the club. Those seeds had sprouted and taken hold in my mind, and I could fill them growing. Those roots threatened to choke out my longheld preconceived notions about sex and attraction.

I danced and even flirted openly with women each time I ended up at the club. Rubbing my body against theirs and allowing them to caress and touch me. There was more than one that wanted to take me home with them, and I admit to being tempted. I'd found something with women that I'd never had with a man.

Intense arousal.

Two things prevented it from ever happening. The first was years of an ingrained belief that I was heterosexual. I was thirty-two-years-old and had been married for six years, happily, so until recently. Was I going to risk throwing away such a comfortable life? A life that gave me the freedom to do as I pleased and a husband who treated me as well as any wife could hope to be treated.

Secondly, Grace graduated and decided to attend grad school in the northeast instead of locally. Apparently, there were girls up there she hadn't had sex with, so the choice was a no brainer.

Once she was gone, my life settled back into it's more sedate routine. I would still catch myself at times, staring at the stairs leading up to the suite above the garage. The room's emptiness seemed to taunt me for my timidity to act when I'd had the chance. Of course, I knew I could easily make a trip to the bar on my own. I knew the address, and it wasn't as if they wouldn't let me in.

With Grace and her friends, I'd had an easy excuse for being there, though. I was out for a night of fun with a cousin and her friends, nothing more. Going there by myself would have been tantamount to admitting a truth, I was still desperately trying to deny.

Months went by, and though I managed to hide it from Darren, I fell into a depression. The things that usually brought me joy no longer held the same power. I found myself sleepwalking through life and putting on an act for those around me.

It was late April when something finally happened that brought a little joy into my life. At least for that day. Grace was in town to visit her parents and called to ask if it might be possible for her to drop by and see me. I was thrilled to hear from her and let her know I'd be overjoyed to catch up.

I had lunch made when Grace finally arrived. I was quick to hug her once she was inside the doorway, which seemed to catch her by surprise.

"Wow, somebody missed me, didn't she?" Grace teased.

I blushed slightly and shrugged my shoulders. "It spoiled me having you here. I lost my partner in crime when you bailed on me."

"Ah," Grace said with a grin, "you miss the dirty tales of my conquests, huh?"

I rolled my eyes but didn't issue a denial.

After we ate, we headed out by the pool with a bottle of wine. It had been the site we'd spent most of our time together and seemed the appropriate place for us to catch up.

Grace talked briefly about school and then spent profoundly more time telling me about the many female connections she'd made since settling in with her new life. It seemed northern women weren't immune to the effect of Grace's southern charms either.

It took her running out of tales about her various conquests before Grace actually got to the actual point of her visit.

"Have you taken in any new strays?" Grace asked. She was more than familiar with Darren's nomenclature for the women I had taken in.

Smiling, I said, "No, no new strays. Not that I'm opposed to the idea. I just haven't encountered any, I guess."

Grace took a sip from her glass of wine and said, "You remember my friend Tabby, right?"

"Sure," I replied.

"Well, she graduated and, unlike me, put her degree to work. She's a social worker here in Atlanta. She called me a couple of weeks ago and told me about a young woman who could really use a place to live while she goes to school. This young lady has had a tough time out of life so far. She lost her entire family in a car accident when she was fifteen. Her mother, father, and her two siblings. A brother and a younger sister."

I sat forward, listening intently. I often felt I had lived a charmed life, and it always hurt my heart to hear of others who hadn't been so fortunate.

"She was bounced around several foster homes, and once she aged out of the system basically became homeless. She had no other family she could turn to for help. She ended up living at a homeless shelter for the last several years. Despite all of that, Tabby says she earned her high school diploma and actually scored very high on her college entrance exams. You with me so far?" Grace asked.

"Completely," I said, taking another sip of my wine.

"In her situation, going to college wasn't a realistic opportunity. Yes, there were government grants available that she could apply for, but even with those, there wouldn't be enough money for everything. Tuition, room and board, food, transportation, it all adds up really quickly," Grace explained.

"Tabby said most girls in her situation end up on drugs, pregnant, or both, but not this girl. She worked two jobs for over three years while living in a women's shelter. During that time, she saved enough to buy her own car. Tabby said it's a beater, but the girl takes care of it and manages to keep it running. She's also been fiscally responsible enough in that time to save enough money to pay for four years of tuition at Georgia State. That's no mean feat for someone living under the circumstances she's endured," Grace stated.

"No, it certainly isn't. You can count me impressed for sure," I admitted.

"Tabby said she was able to get this young woman a grant that will help defray the cost of a meal plan, but she still needs the cost of housing. Tabby is afraid if she has to spend another year working that something will happen, and she'll go from a potential longshot success story to just another statistic. Tabby knew what you did for me and gave me a call to see if perhaps I still had some pull with you."

I sat back in my chair and took it all in. I knew there was a multitude of reasons to say no. Inviting a strange girl I'd never met to live in my home would be the very definition of taking in a stray. Carolyn and Grace were family members. You're supposed to help your family, and I was sure that had played a big part in the way Darren had been so blase about me inviting them to stay. He might feel completely different about a situation like this.

"What kind of jobs did she work at?" I asked. I wasn't sure whether I was looking for an excuse to say no or yes. But I knew I needed to have more information before making up my mind.

"She worked the lunch and dinner shift at a local restaurant and then worked as a weekend bartender at that club where we used to go dancing together. Tabby said she's also delivered pizzas and worked as a maid at different times." Grace replied.

"How old is she?" I asked, the part about her working as a bartender catching me by surprise.

"She's twenty-three. All the turmoil she's faced has caused her to get off to a late start in life. Tabby says she's very mature for her age and isn't the partying type. From what I understand, you wouldn't have to put up with the parade of panty pleasers I put you through either. Tabby says she's been dating some older woman off and on for the last year or so. She's not sure what the story is there but says Jax, that's what everybody calls her, is an old soul, so it fits that she would be into older women."

That tidbit intrigued me. The idea of having another Grace to live vicariously through thrilled me, even if she was a more sedate version. I thought again of how Darren might react and how I dreaded the thought of making waves in our quiet life. But then I thought of all the time he was away from home and decided that I at least owed myself a chance to meet with this young woman.

I told Grace not to make any promises to Tabby but agreed to have her set up a time for me to meet with this Jax. We ended things with her promising to give me a call when she had more news.

That led to the morning of Friday, May the 3rd. Darren was leaving town to head to Indianapolis and wouldn't be returning until the following weekend. I thought that gave me plenty of time to reach a decision. I had spoken to Tabby by telephone, and she had informed me that it would benefit Jax if she could get moved in as soon as possible. The shelter she was living in had closed down at the beginning of the month. As a result, Jax was living out of her car at the moment. I reasoned that if I felt comfortable with this young woman, that I could have her moved in before Darren returned home from his business trip. The old saying about asking forgiveness instead of asking permission coming to mind readily.

After seeing Darren off, I showered and took care in dressing myself. I wasn't sure why at the time, not exactly, but it was important to me that I build as good an impression with this young woman as she likely wanted to create with me. The great thing about having Carolyn and Grace here had been the friendship I'd shared with both. It was important to me that I came out of today, believing there was a realistic chance of being able to reinvent those experiences with this girl. Yes, there was also an altruistic aspect to consider. I would be helping someone who really needed it at a crucial time in her life. And being able to do that meant a lot to me. But explaining it to my husband would be so much more palatable if I knew there was a chance of it being more than a landlord/tenant type relationship.

So when the bell rang, I stopped briefly in front of the mirror that hung just inside the front entryway. My shoulder-length black hair was coifed neatly in a bob. The light makeup and navy top I'd chosen to wear both played off my blue eyes. My ensemble was completed by a pair of custom-fit black high-waisted jeans that hugged my trim lower half like a second skin. I thought I looked young without having tried too hard, which was precisely the look I had been going for.

It was fortunate for me that the last thing I did before opening the door was to take a deep breath. The sight I took in once I got a look at my visitor was one I don't believe I could forget if I lived a thousand lifetimes. And for a moment there, I think I forgot to breathe.

Jax was more than beautiful; she was ethereal. Even now, I can remember the way I felt that first moment I laid eyes on her. My heart began to race, and I felt my nipples harden against the cups of my bra. While my mouth went dry, I felt my pussy begin to leak juices as a steady throbbing built up behind my clit. All those nights of harmless flirtations dancing with other women hadn't had near the effect on me that a single glance at this young beauty produced.

"Are you Maizie?" Jax asked in a pronounced southern drawl.

Realizing that I was staring and afraid I might have been drooling, I shook off my temporary muteness and stepped aside, saying, "Yes...yes I am, and I guess that must make you Jax."

The young woman's smile was radiant as she stepped by me. Jax wasn't at all what I had been expecting. I had assumed the person I was going to meet would appear tired and worn down, maybe even prematurely aged due to the hard life she'd been forced to live. I'd also half expected her to be butch. Perhaps in part because of the name or because the majority of bartenders I could remember from the dance club had been just that.

Jax was a contradiction. Her entire story had presented a picture in my mind of a young woman who would likely have a hard edge. Surely a person experiencing all she had would be a bit bitter towards all that life had thrown her way at such a young age?

That wasn't the woman I saw in front of me, though. Jax appeared light, not just in stature but in the way she carried her burdens. It was as if the cares of the world couldn't touch her, and the slightest breeze might make her float away. She had taken just about the worst the world had to offer someone her age and rose above it anyway.

There was also her appearance. Most of Grace's friends and a large portion of the gay women I had encountered at the club very much dressed the part. There were a lot of leather pants, mini-skirts, and a plethora of crop tops and vests that were seemingly worn with little underneath.

That wasn't the young woman in front of me, though. The yellow sundress with a daisy print and white sandals she wore said, soccer mom. It said Junior league. What it didn't say was young homeless lesbian beaten down by the whims of fate. I noticed that even her finger and toenails were carefully cared for and painted a matching shade of pink.

Jax was of mixed ethnic heritage, and oh, what a beautiful combination it was. Her skin was the type of flawless caramel that just begged to be tasted. A small scar, perhaps an inch in length on the right side of her graceful neck, was the only imperfection present to my eyes.

Her hair was long and worn naturally in tight ringlets and curls. It stood out from her head in a style I had heard described as afro-punk by Grace and her friends. Even more noticeable than the way it was worn, was its honey blonde coloring. Together with her skin-tone, the pair made for a devastating combination.

If Jax was a masterpiece in beauty, though, it was her eyes that were the centerpiece. Never before had I seen green eyes on a black girl, and I decided at that moment that it was a sure sign of a kiss from God at the moment of her conception.

And it wasn't just their color that stood out, but the shade as well. Emerald green or hazel colored eyes that tended towards green were passe compared to the set of gems Jax had. They were almost lime green in contrast to other shades of green I'd ever seen, a hue I later saw described as sea green. She had long, delicate-looking lashes that lightly fluttered as she took my hand in greeting. Her grip was soft and gentle, and her touch sent a shiver up my arm that cascaded down my spine.

"Yes, it's actually Jaqueline Maxine Taylor. As a little girl, my parents call me Jackie but my older brother called me Max. He did it because he knew I hated my middle name, and I was a bit of a Tomboy. Hearing the two names confused my little sister, who was a toddler at the time. She ended up combining the two and calling me Jax. Everyone else found it cute, and it ended up sticking."

I smiled at her recollection. There was a definite sense of wistfulness in her beautiful eyes. A look that made my heart hurt for her. Her voice was melodious, and if one held their eyes shut and listened, you would have thought you were hearing the sound of a young girl.

Still holding her hand and lost in those sad green eyes, I said, "That's a sweet story, and I think it's a beautiful name, it suits you."