TABOO TALES(erotica)

He laughed, totally unrepentant. “Integrity and pussy don’t necessarily go well together, Beth. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining at the time.” He paused. “So do you think Susan’s turned gay, or something?”

I shrugged. “Do people suddenly turn gay? I doubt it….. not the majority, anyway. Maybe you did put her off men for life though, or perhaps she’s just looking for a little adventure with a twist. Frankly, I’m not sure what she’s looking for…. certainly not any of the guys in that bar – I’ve watched her turn all of them away.”

“So what’s next?”

“She suggested we meet tomorrow evening in the same place. I got the impression she was assessing me – checking me out, if you like. I’m curious where this is going so I think I’ll turn up.”

He nodded in agreement. “Don’t forget to tell me all the hot details.”

*****

That second evening with Susan was enjoyable. She was a good conversationalist and in no time at all we were comfortable with each other. She didn’t talk about her relationships at first, staying on relatively safe topics like our respective interests – movies, theatre, jobs and so on. I found that she had left her job – the one where David worked – and had secured a better paying one in another part of town. She had rented a small flat, bought a car and a new wardrobe.

“Sounds like a lifestyle change to me, Susan,” I said, “so what caused all of that?”

She fiddled with a coaster on the table. “I had this guy – a relatively new experience. We’d only been going out a little while but I really liked him. Anyway, it didn’t work out… he found someone else. I was down in the dumps for a while but he did me a favour really, as I was in a bit of a rut. I woke up one morning and thought ‘Fuck it! Here I am, 22 years old and I’ve been doing the same thing for years’… so I changed my job. The extra money helped me with the other changes – you know, car, clothes…”

I had noticed her outfit when she walked in. She was dressed in a two piece linen suit, a soft beige colour, the jacket and skirt beautifully tailored. She wore a contrasting blouse the colour of burnt toffee that set off her eyes, and her shoes and handbag were perfectly matched. I figured she wouldn’t have got much change out of seven hundred bucks for it. “Your suit is lovely.”

“Thanks. It was a bit of an extravagance, but what the hell.”Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

“So are you in a relationship now?”

She was silent for a moment, as if reluctant to talk. “No, not really. I really didn’t want to go through the same thing again – ”

She broke off as she spotted two guys heading towards us. “Uh uh. Incoming. Watch out. Do you want to stay and fight them off, or find somewhere else?”

“I’m sick of beating off male ego with a stick. Do you have somewhere?”

“Yeah, come on.” She drained her glass and we moved out.

*****

Her flat was small but cosy – with a tiny kitchen, a small bathroom, sitting area and a single bedroom. She had spent a bit of time and money doing it up and it showed: fresh paint gleamed in the soft lighting, contrasting the bright colours on the various fabrics that I could see. I dropped my coat over the back of a chair and she hung it behind the door. “This is nice.”

“My love nest….. well, nest anyway. Not much loving been done here. Do you want a drink?”

“I’m driving, so I’d better be careful. Just a small one.”

We went though to the kitchen and I watched her fill two large glasses from a bottle.

“Jesus! Big small helping.”

“You can sleep over if you like. The sofa turns into a bed… probably as hard as a rock, but a couple more drinks like that and you won’t notice.”

“I’ll see how I go.” I sipped at the wine. “Mmm. New Zealand Marlborough, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Cloudy Bay. My favourite.” She kicked off her shoes and flopped on the sofa. “So what were we talking about?”

“I asked if you were in a relationship.”

She moved her arm expansively around, indicating the room. “Well, as you can see, there’s just me and my stuff. No smelly boots, shaving grouts in the sink, dirty jocks on the floor….”

“So are you?”

“No. I told you – I don’t want the angst and pain.”

“So what were you doing in the bar?”

She looked at me sharply. “You’re very direct, aren’t you? I could ask you the same thing.”

“You could, yes.” I considered my words carefully. “I’m looking for something different.”

“Different?” She looked at me. “Different to what?”

“To what I’ve got. The guy I’m with is… possessive. I guess it’s a male thing. I enjoy the sex but the relationship is strained.”

“So you go and sit in a bar for God knows how long in the hope that something better comes along? That’s implausible.”

I smiled. “It does sound a bit off, doesn’t it.”

“And I noticed that you weren’t interested in guys.”

“Not the ones in a bar. I said I wanted something different. Look…” I set my glass down on the counter. “… I don’t know what I want, right? I don’t know where this is going or whether I want it or not. I do know that I’m ready to try something new, and I also know that I like you.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

She was wrong. I actually knew a great deal about her, right down to the little tricks she liked in her sex life, but I didn’t think it was time to tell her that. “No, I don’t – but I’ve enjoyed what I’ve seen so far. Don’t be spooked by me, Susan. I’m not a threat. I can leave if you want.”

She fiddled with a strand of hair above her ear, twisting it so that it stuck out at an odd angle. When she spoke her voice was low. “No, don’t do that. Not yet.” She lifted her face and met my gaze. “I’m…. I’m a little vulnerable right now. I don’t know what I want either, but I certainly don’t want any more grief.”

I reached up to her face, very slowly, watching her reaction as I touched her hair, smoothing down the errant tuft that she had been twisting, feeling its glossy sheen under my fingers. Her eyes were huge, pools of dark toffee like those of a gazelle startled by the hunter’s light; and her mouth was closed, lips soft and pink. “I think we need each other, Susan,” I whispered. “There’s no need to be lonely any more.”

As I stroked her hair I watched her face change: the pupils dilated as if she was suddenly seeing me for the first time – really seeing me – and a new awareness suffused their depths, lenses into the well of her soul. I realised that my fingertips were no longer smoothing her hair but were caressing the back of her head, moving down to the nape of her neck, acknowledging its warmth. She raised her hand and touched one slim finger to my temple, sliding it down lightly over the side of my face, across my cheek and down to my mouth, brushing feather light across my lips and halting there as if to silence any words that I might speak. My lips parted slightly and I tentatively touched the tip of my tongue against her fingertip, expecting rejection; but she watched me steadily with those soft brown eyes, calm and untroubled as I opened my mouth and allowed her finger to slide into me.

Her whole demeanour altered from passive to active – subtle little changes; she straightened a little, one knee moving out so that it brushed against my thigh as I stood in front of her, and she tilted her head a fraction. I could see a pulse at the base of her throat beating softly; I watched as her lips opened slightly, full and moist; and I felt her breath on my face as soft as a butterfly’s kiss as she leaned forward, bending slightly, turning her head so that her lips fitted snugly over mine.

I don’t know how long we stood there, kissing in her kitchen – it might have only been a few seconds, but it felt much longer. I’d never kissed a woman before. Her lips were incredibly soft – much softer than David’s, and her tongue was softer too, gently exploring my lips and probing into my mouth. My senses were swamped by her: the taste of wine on her mouth, the fresh clean aroma of her hair; the spicy tang of her perfume and the press of her hand on my waist, clasping me gently, pulling me forward, and the warmth of her knee nestling against my thighs. I cupped her face with my free hand, acknowledging the lustre of her skin. She twisted around, breaking the contact of our lips as she tried to put her glass of wine on the counter behind her, and I heard it fall and the splash of its contents. She shrugged and moved onto me again, her lips more demanding, and her right hand as it came up behind me, into my hair.

I placed my hand on her right breast, my thumb stroking her nipple though her clothes, and she broke the kiss and looked down at it before she spoke.

“This is too quick, Elizabeth. I need time….”

“Why?”

“I don’t know….. it’s good. I like it… I like you. I just don’t want to rush into anything. I need a bit more time.”

Our kissing had really turned me on – I could feel the heat of my desire, the oozing of my juices into my pants, the material soaking, sopping wet. I wanted to go further with her, but I didn’t want to spook her – she was so unsure of herself. I backed off.

“I understand, Susan. I’ll be here when you decide.”

She nodded in acquiescence and pressed her lips on mine again, butterfly soft kisses sweeter than honey.