tagLesbian SexTwo Sides To Every Story

Two Sides To Every Story


Loree's story in regular type, Alex's story in italics.

It was raining that night. I enjoyed the rain. A normal Friday night and I was sitting at the Lounge, watching the rain fall outside through the plate glass windows. I took a pull of my beer and looked around the bar. The place was comfortable, familiar. A small hole-in-the-wall bar attached to a popular bowling alley. The same bar I'd been sitting at almost every Friday night for the past 7 years. My bar. The "regular" crowd changed every couple of years, but I did not. I was as much a fixture in this place as the tables and the brass railing around the L-shaped bar top. Just like Cheers, everyone here knew my name. I loved this place.

This Friday, I was to meet up with my friend Brandon. Brandon and I had met at the Lounge years ago, and a long enduring friendship ensued. I was looking forward to tonight. Even though I always had a blast out at the Lounge, drinking and singing karaoke, tonight was special. Tonight was a birthday party for Brandon, and I just knew it was going to be wild. Of course, "wild" usually meant drunken debauchery and mayhem, but hey, that was how I liked it.

Brandon walked in, a little late as usual. He was always late, as he tended to take much more time to get ready than most men. "Must be a gay thing" I thought to myself as I took another sip of my beer and waved. He had several people with him that I did not recognize. I assumed they were all Brandon's co-workers or friends I just had never met.

"Bran Muffin!" I cried, running over to him.

"Lorikeet!" he replied, both of us giggling at our pet nicknames for each other.

"Those shoes are HOT", he said, stepping back and looking at my 4 inch stilettos.

"You know it" I replied. I was a self-admitted shoe whore, and never failed to garner comments on my footwear. Brandon, being gay, was extremely appreciative of my very extensive shoe collection. He even borrowed some of my more slutty shoes to wear when he did drag, and always blessed the fact that we wore the same size shoe.

"You look great tonight Loree", Brandon said.

"Thanks" I replied, looking down at my outfit. I wasn't as much as a clotheshorse as I was a shoe whore, but I still took pride in my clothes, and I thought the tight jeans and low cut blouse showed off my body to its best advantage. I did not have the typical body that most of the world seemed to think was attractive. While I was not fat, I most assuredly was not skinny. "Curvy" would be the nice way to put it, "chunky" probably a bit closer to the truth. But I had boobs. Lord did I have boobs. Boobs for days. Large round double D's, completely natural and I knew they were my best asset. I never missed an opportunity to show them off in a low cut top, and often caught men and women looking at my chest appreciatively. I never minded that; it was why I showed them off. Of course occasionally I snared a grope or two from Brandon, as he was preternaturally attracted to my tits. Weird ass homo, but I loved him.

"I have to have those shoes for my next show", Brandon demanded.

"Absolutely", I answered. I was protective of my shoes, but Brandon understood, and I knew he would take good care of them.

"We're going to have fun tonight! Happy Birthday" I cried.

"Thanks babe. Hey, come here, I want to introduce to some of my friends", Brandon said, pulling me over to the table where the whole group had sat down.

The introductions began and I, being horrible with names, promptly forgot everyone's. For the remainder of the evening, all of Brandon's friends would be Sweetie, Honey, Baby, and Darlin. I knew my limitations, and learning people's names were one of them. So I was very adept at using endearments, even with perfect strangers. I had that kind of personality. Never met a stranger and everyone instinctively liked me on sight. I was usually the center of attention at a party, and I have one of those personalities that can fill up a room. I understand this about myself, and I know how to use it to my advantage.

Among Brandon's friends, there was a Latin man with a beautiful smile, dressed impeccably in a button down and slacks. Next to him was a regular Joe, clean cut white man in a t-shirt and jeans. There was a middle aged black woman in a green dress. There was a very pretty brunette woman, wearing hip huggers and a low cut blouse. There was a cute curvy blond girl in a mini skirt and a sweater top. And there was a petite redhead. I had to double take at the redhead.

There was a split second where I did not know if the red head was male or female. "Definitely female", I thought to myself, seeing the slope of perky breasts under the woman's shirt. The redhead was wearing a man's button down shirt, open, worn over a white wife beater. The redhead also wore slightly baggy jeans, and very nice men's dress shoes. I knew my shoes, and those were nice shoes. She did not have a bit of makeup on, but that only seemed to enhance her smooth skin, and bring her blue-green eyes front and center. The short slightly wavy cap of reddish-gold hair caught my eye though. Thick red hair and I had always been a sucker for red hair and freckles, of which the petite woman had plenty.

Maybe because I took an extra second to look her over, or maybe because I had a moment's question on her gender, I remembered her name immediately.

"Loree, this is Alexis", Brandon said. "Alex, this is my best friend Loree, I know I've told you about her".

"All good I hope?" I asked, sticking out my hand for the obligatory handshake.

"Of course" Alex said, smiling as she took my hand. I quickly look down, surprised at the strength of Alex's grip. Alex had soft warm hands, but the strength in them was undeniable. I took in the blunt fingers, the trimmed nails, the silver men's watch encircling the pale skin of Alex's wrist.

"Come on", Brandon said. "Let's get a drink and get to partying".

I looked up, startled out of my deep introspection of playing connect-the-sexy-freckles-with-my-tongue. "Huh?" I asked stupidly. Brandon looked at me like I'd lost my damn mind. "Alcohol? Shots? Liquor" he enunciated slowly, pointing to the bar like he was trying to converse with a foreigner. I smacked him on his arm, called him a fucktard, and gave Alex a long-suffering look. We all had a laugh and headed towards the bar.

By chance, Alex happened to sit directly across from me at the table. As the evening went on, I could not stop myself from covertly studying Alex. She was intriguing, to say the least. Her mannerisms had certain "maleness" to them; from the way she sat in the chair to the way she held a beer bottle. And while Alex was no doubt female, these small male idiosyncrasies made me want to watch her.

I had played around with women before, and while enjoyable, did not really consider myself to be bisexual. Every now and then I met a woman that attracted me, but hardly ever acted on it. Usually, when that rarity of being attracted to another woman occurred, it was a very feminine woman, all soft curves and long hair. The typical "butch" lesbian was not the kind of woman I found attractive. Yet here I sat, damn near staring at Alex. I was intrigued by her and found my eyes returning again and again to the redhead across from me. Especially when Alex smiled. Alex's smile broke over her face like dawn over the horizon. It was a beautiful thing to see. In fact, Alex's mouth was a beautiful thing in and of itself, and with the exception of her breasts was the most feminine thing about her. Full lips top and bottom, perfectly plump, soft looking and just a bit larger than would be the right proportion for her face. Alex's mouth held my attention quite often that night, and I wondered what it would feel like to kiss her.

Alex sat quietly most of the night, listening to the people around her, chiming in now and then; but mostly just studying everyone else. I in turn tried to study her. Something about her was evocative, kept me rapt. I couldn't put my finger on this feeling. Eventually, I was able to stop checking her out so obviously, but even when I wasn't looking or talking directly to her, I couldn't keep Alex off my mind.

I hated sitting with these people I barely know. I would rather be home watching the latest Top Chef, or reading a book. If it wasn't for Brandon and his birthday, that's exactly where I would be. But Brandon asked, or begged rather. So there I was. I was only planning on staying for a couple of beers, and leaving as soon as it was polite. The bar scene is definitely not my thing. I mentally shook myself, paying attention once again to the crowd around me. Maybe I could distract myself from my unease until I could leave.

I don't think I'd ever met anyone quite like Loree before. She was certainly a very outgoing person. This is what I told myself as I watched the tall brunette converse with complete strangers like long-lost family members. Hell, she even made me feel like that. I wonder how she does it? She's fairly pretty, but not gorgeous or anything, so it can't be her looks. She's just so....nice. Maybe it's her smile – full, open, and fast on the draw. Or maybe the way she looks directly at you when you're talking to her, like what you're saying is the greatest thing she's ever heard. Whatever it is, it sure works for her. She's got this whole table wrapped around her finger, listening to every word of every story. I enjoyed watching her "work the crowd" as it were.

Damn has she got nice eyes. Nice body too, curvy in all the right places. And her tits were awesome. Deep cleavage, and when Loree moved just right, I caught an evocative perfume drifting out of the cleft. I briefly wondered if her skin tasted as good as it smelled, and how she would moan if I ....Stop it Red, I told myself. This is going nowhere!

I quickly squelched down the excited tendrils of excitement that I had begun to feel. I would not allow myself to be attracted to her. Nope. Not happening. I'd been hurt horrible before, and I was never ever going to give another person the ability to hurt me that bad again.

Oh, but she was tempting. Too bad I didn't go for meaningless sex. I could probably enjoy a meaningless fuck with her. I heaved a sigh, resigning the erotic thoughts to a dark closet deep in my mind. I knew I did not need to get involved with anybody right now. But I continued to watch Loree, and I admitted to myself that I was fascinated by her.

I caught Loree looking at me several times that night. Once, when she turned her hazel eyes to me, I caught and held her gaze. A fleeting look of confusion mixed with excitement passed across her face – a look I have seen several times before on several different women. Loree was attracted to me. I wondered if she even realized it herself. The thoughts I'd exiled to the dark closet of my mind started rattling the doorknob. I resolutely pushed them away, but thought I might flirt a little with her, and see how much she was attracted to me. Innocent flirting. Promise.

I smiled at her slowly, not breaking eye contact with her. What pretty eyes. I wondered if she realized that I could read the story of her soul in her eyes.

Loree smiled back, her eyes brightening as she leaned across the table to speak to me in low tones. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but you're gay, right?" I swear, she almost blushed. Almost. The look on her face was adorable. She realized how nosy she was being, but asked anyways – just because. I loved women like that, that did what they wanted, because they wanted to and to hell with convention.

"No, I don't mind and yes I am" I answered, trying hard to control my own blush. Damn this red hair! I could never hide any embarrassment or uncomfortable feeling. It always gave me away. I was never embarrassed about being gay, and I never felt the need to make excuses for who I am. I found a part of me hoping that Loree assumed I was blushing about my sexuality. Otherwise, she might have guessed the truth: I blushed because as much as I was fighting it, I was attracted to her.

"How about you?" I asked, deftly turning attention away from me, and back on her. Besides, I suddenly was VERY curious how she would answer. Was she bi? Straight? If she was straight, would she even recognize the attraction between us? And what would I do about it if she was gay? A million questions were suddenly swirling incoherently in my brain. What the hell? I needed to get a grip on myself. There was no way I was going to start anything with this woman.

"Are you gay?" Alex asked quietly. She seemed very intent on my answer, as if it was important to her. I wondered quickly if she was attracted to me as well.

"Um, not really, but sorta" I answered hesitantly, demonstrating my brilliant repartee. Alex smiled at that, and I giggled. I despise giggling, and was mortified that I had done it. I decided to shake off my nervousness and just be myself.

"I've had sex with women before, but not a whole lot of experience in that department. I don't rule women or men out of my sex life based on their gender, or their race for that matter. I always find myself attracted to the inside, the personality and the soul. For society's purposes, you could call me bi-sexual, though I don't really feel attached to that label. If anything I would be soul-sexual. Everything else is just wrapping paper on the real present to me – the soul inside".

Alex looked at me intently for a moment, before breaking into a slow sexy smile. "Soul-sexual, huh? That sounds hot as shit". Oh my god that smile. I decided to go with the feeling and keep up the sensual flirting. "Hmmm-mmm, it is" I replied huskily. "You've never had really good sex until you've had soul-sex". I smiled at this, winking slowly at Alex.

"I don't know" Alex said. "I'm pretty good at what I do".

I laughed. "And humble too!" But I could tell she wasn't idly bragging. She had the steely confidence in her voice when she said that. She most definitely was good at what she did.

Alex laughed a full laugh, and something in me clicked. I decided to see how far I could push, how far I could take this flirtation. For all intents and purposes, I decided that I wanted Alex, and wanted to find out if the redhead really was good at what she did. It was mostly an unconscious decision, but I was going to get Alex in bed no matter what.

I could tell that Loree was now aware of her attraction to me. She flirted with me openly, and I allowed her to, flirting back occasionally. Mostly though I let her take the lead, and tried to rein myself in. I was not going to lead her on, or make her think I was going home with her. I wasn't ready for that, and I wasn't the type of person to use somebody else.

I spent a moment and thought about the reasons why I was holding back. I'd been hurt so badly before – I'd given myself completely, and when that was thrown back in my face something in me shut down. Ever since then, I hadn't been able to fall in love with anybody. And there had been several women in my past that were infinitely lovable; there was just something wrong with me. And it just wasn't right to get into deeply involved relationships knowing that the other person was going to be hurt. So I dated casually here and there, but always kept my heart high and dry.

I turned my attention once more to Loree, looking at her as she regaled Brandon with some story or another. I felt instinctively that I would need to tread carefully with her. She piqued my interest, which was something that hadn't happened in a long time.

"How about you Alex," Loree asked, facing me across the table with an expectant look on her face.

"What's that" I asked, trying to clue into the conversation I hadn't been paying attention to.

"What is the one thing about a person that would attract you instantly?" she asked.

"I love a person's eyes" I blurted out. I couldn't help it – Loree's eyes were phenomenal, expressive, and drew me in. I was an ass girl, I liked a nice ass most of all. But those bright hazel eyes were spellbinding, and on the spot my answer changed from the normal.

Loree's face showed a brief moment of shock, then she smiled a half-crooked smile. A look of sexual triumph spread across her face, and I would have sworn she knew what I was thinking. Something rolled over lazily in my core at that moment, and I had to look away and do a gut-check. Oh crap.

Alex and I continued to flirt, and just chat in general as the night wore on. I was very attracted to her, but I could sense that she was holding back for some reason. Even though I was pretty positive that the attraction was mutual, I wasn't 100% sure, so I was careful not to push anything.

I found myself enjoying every moment of conversation, every look that passed between us. I was hooked, hard and good.

The evening ended as most of those evenings do, with some people taking taxies home, some people driving home. I went home that night thinking what a good time I had had at the party. As I drifted off to sleep, Alex's red hair, soft mouth and intense eyes rose in my mind, and I'm pretty sure I spent the night dreaming of her.

I made it home later that night, sober as usual. Crawling into bed, I found it hard to fall asleep. Time and time again, laughing hazel eyes floated in my mind, daring me to come and take what they offered. I resolutely pushed the buxom brunette out my mind.


Over the next few months, my life did not change much. I went to work as usual, did my errands as usual, and went to the Lounge as usual. Brandon, I, and our friends, the "regular" crowd continued to reign supreme over the karaoke bar every weekend.

Alex came to the Lounge occasionally, usually accompanied with the same group of people that had come with Brandon the night of his party. We would exchange pleasantries, chat for a while; sometimes sit together, sometimes not. If we happened to catch one another's eye, a small smile of acknowledgement would pass between us. I was anxious to pursue her, but was unwilling to seem pushy or forward while she continued to keep me somewhat at bay.

As the months rolled on, I would find myself watching the door of the bar on Friday evenings, wondering if the redhead would show up. On the nights when Alex was there, I found myself watching Alex more and more, especially when Alex would laugh. That laugh startled me the first time I heard it. Full and deep, loud enough to turn heads, and infectious enough to make you want to be in on the joke. I fell in love with that laugh, and became determined to hear it more and more.

There was something lonely and sad about her. I wasn't able to put my finger on it, but I just felt that she needed a whole heap of happiness in her life. I wanted to be the reason that Alex laughed like that, and it surprised me that I felt this way.

Over time, we became closer friends, comfortable with each within the confines of the bar scene. I knew I was falling for her, and it drove me crazy that she didn't seem to reciprocate. Through our casual conversations and the multiple weeks of hanging out, I found Alex to be smart, with a razor sharp sarcastic wit that was delightful. I realized I looked forward to talking to her, laughing with her, joking and flirting. I wanted her, plain and simple, but was too much of a chickenshit to do anything about it.

We began to see each other outside of the bar, going shopping, or doing lunch, usually with a couple of our mutual friends. I was eager to spend as much time with her as I could, and found myself making excuses to see her or invite her along somewhere. Deep inside, I could see through my actions, but I continued to lie to myself and think of her as a "friend". She always accepted my invitations, and we became regular weekenders.

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byvirginiaraine© 22 comments/ 47837 views/ 76 favorites

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