Girl on Girl Passion

Story #1: Lesbian Dream Comes True-3

In Angie’s fantasy, however, she never left. She was right there, greedily nibbling at her boobs, wetting her face and neck with kisses, and otherwise sending Angie’s p***y into wild convulsions.

Angie tumbled to her back, landing on the carpet, unharmed and hungry for more. But once again, it wasn’t Harvey she was craving. The next one to invade her fantasy was a neighbor named Janet.

Janet boasted, the dark hair and curvaceous body of a Roman Goddess. Although friendly hugs were the extent of their contact, Angie had no trouble summoning much more for her fantasy. With her clothes being peeled away, Angie pictured Janet doing the peeling. She buckled with delight, giggling, gasping and unfolding into a mess.

A set of fingers probed deep inside her. These digits, Angie decided, belonged to Aurora. The kisses that followed had to be Janet’s. And the body that slowly moved into her spread legs could only belong to Christy.

“Awwww, this is… is… just… the best… thing… ever.” The sensual storm from all three ladies was nearly too much to take. A ripple found her torso and twisted into a series of involuntary jerks. She was on her way, and there was no she could get there without help from the ladies.

More screams followed, but these grew more specific. “Ohhhh, keep sucking my boobs!” she shouted. “That’s right, Aurora! That’s right!”

Harvey pulled away and Angie’s eyes snapped open, instantly jolting her out of the fantasy and into an awkward reality.

“Aurora?” He asked.

Mouth open and face frozen in horror, Angie fumbled for an explanation. “Um… sorry, Harvey… I was… uh, distracted. Thinking about something else.”

“Seems to me you were thinking about somebody else.”

“No, no, Harvey. It’s not like that, I swear.”

Harvey gave her a sideways glance, his eyes narrowing in realization of the name’s significance. “Wait a minute. Aurora? You thinking of Aurora Peyton? That girl that worked at the diner for a while until people found out she was a –“

“No, no, no. I was thinking of this song on the radio.” Pointing to the stereo across the room, she sought to hem and haw her way out of the mess. “You see, this song kind of reminds me of another song called, Wish You Were With Me by this singer named Aurora Simpkins. But you know how I am, always getting names and songs mixed up and what not.”

Harvey backed away, face softening. But he kept his glare on Angie’s face as if to assure her that he didn’t totally buy her excuse.

Angie lay there, bracing for an angry rant or maybe something worse.

After a deep breath, Harvey pulled up and pants and zipped them. “I better not get any surprises from you after our wedding day. You understand that? If you have something to confess to me, you better unload it here and now.”

Trembling, Angie said nothing. She knew this would have been a good time to tell the truth and to escape their upcoming marriage. But the courage needed to make that move eluded her. The smart move, it seemed to her, was to play along with the charade and shove her true feeling deep into her soul. “No surprises, I promise you,” she said. She punctuated it with a soft kiss on his beard.

“Come on, let me give you a lift home.”

***

Once back at her apartment, Angie took a seat at her computer and released a sigh. She had come awfully close to getting busted and the tension it caused made her body rattle. Opening her inbox, she found an email from Mia.

Her face glowed. It was enough of a thrill that her question had been answered on Mia’s blog, but getting a personal reply meant something bigger to her.

Mia’s letter was tough to get through with all its emotional vulnerability and honesty. That kind of honesty was unusual in Angie’s life. For her, keeping her true feeling hidden was necessary for survival.

It was late, but Angie couldn’t sleep before sending out a reply. She simply had to unburden her soul. Face drenched with tears, she typed out a message and pressed send.

Mia

The morning started like any other for Mia. She had some coffee, a quick bite to eat and checked her inbox. When she found a reply from Angie, she expected it to be simply ‘thank you’ note, politely expressing her gratitude for her taking the time to reply to her question. What she got was much more.

Mia,

You have no idea how much your reply touched me – emotionally, spiritually, sexually. I had an incident last night that convinced me that I’m a very different place than I was when I wrote my first email. I realize now that I love women. My fantasies are not just fantasies. They are the blueprint I need to live a fulfilled life. And I’m faced with the realization that I can’t ever have that life. It simply costs more than I can pay.

I’m a waitress in Clearwater, Colorado and my husband owns the diner. I don’t have the option of starting my life over again. The closest I can get to finding s****l satisfaction is flirting with the occasional female customer, but even that habit threatens to split my relationship in two if I don’t cut it out.

I don’t know much about your life, but I hope it’s going better than mine. I hope your fantasies are easier to turn into realities than mine.

Angie

Mia sprang to her feet and started pacing. She wanted to rescue Angie, wanted to take her away from her unhappy place. But after thinking things through she realized this wasn’t a healthy way to think.

Part of the reason for Mia’s ‘no personal replies’ policy is that it was never a good idea to get wrapped up in the personal lives of these people. Not only did it invite obsessed fans, but it invited her own obsession. Catching her breath and taking a seat, Mia realized that she was becoming obsessed with Angie. She had to move on.

So she did. Deleting Angie’s email was the first step to moving on. The second was finding another email to open.

She settled on an email from a guy named Tyler.

Dear Mia,

My girlfriend is really hot and fantastic in bed. Maybe that doesn’t sound like much of a problem, but, trust me, it is. She’s so sexy that I have a habit of coming too quickly. I’ve tried everything: numbing creams, pills, thinking about something else. But nothing seems to work. When I’m with Shelly, I just can’t control myself.

Too-Fast Tyler

As was her habit, Mia drifted directly into fantasy. She pictured herself seated next to a handsome frat boy, his hands all over her as they moistened each other’s faces with deep French kisses.

She grunted and groaned as those large hands dove up her skirt and into her blouse. “Mmmm, Tyler. So far, so good, honey.”

His face red with nerves, he reached to his fly and unzipped herself. “Oh, my! I really need to blast.”

As his hard c**k poked out of her zipper’s opening, she clasped it at the base, staring deep into his eyes. “Here’s the thing, Tyler. I don’t want you to think about not coming. But I don’t want you to think about coming either.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want you to think about yourself. I want you to think about what Shelly wants. I guarantee that if you take the focus off of yourself, things will go beautifully.”

“You promise?”

“I sure do. Now here’s another thing I want you to consider…” But before she could finish her sentence, a distraction appeared in the corner of the room. A sad looking woman a waitress’ uniform stood there, craving attention. She needed a hug.

Mia stepped away from Tyler and opened her arms wide for the waitress. Just before their bodies could connect, she was jolted out of the fantasy.

Climbing to her feet, Mia realized that Angie had invaded her fantasy for a reason. The sad waitress needed her help.

She dragged Angie’s email from the trash and gave her quick reply.

Your story is a sad one. But it won’t always be.

Mia

After pressing send, Mia realized how ambiguous the message was. Even she had no idea what she would – or could – do for this woman on the eve of her unhappy wedding. But she knew she had to do something.

Mia Googled Clearwater, Colorado and realized it not too far from Denver, where she lived. At most it was a two-hour drive.

Suddenly in the mood for a road trip, she grabbed some bottled water and headed to her car, feeling in the mood for a road trip. But after catching the breeze outside, she remembered that she was still wearing pajamas. Laughing, she stepped back inside, unsure what to wear to a rural town with a population under five thousand.

Her first impulse was to dress herself in outdoorsy clothes, but she opted against a look that would have felt phony. She decided on a navy blue skirt and matching ruffled blouse that looked nice with her glasses. No use in pretending she wasn’t a nerdy writer from the big city.

It didn’t take long to find the diner she was seeking. Once there, she sat in the car and stared through the glass door. The place was nearly empty, occupied only by a single customer and a waitress who may or may not have been Angie.

The longer Mia stared, the more she considered turning around and driving back home. This was a risky move, getting involved with somebody she knew only from a brief online correspondence. She sat in the car waiting. Her plan was to dip her toe into things by just walking inside and pretending to be another customer. If asked, she would identify herself as Miss Clark, a surname that none of her readers would be familiar with.

After spending a few minutes adjusting her hair and glasses in the rear-view mirror, she left the car and slowly approached the diner’s front door.

Angie

On days that weren’t especially busy, the biggest problem with working at the diner was boredom. Angie busied herself by sitting on a stool, reading a glamour magazine. Across from her, Helen – the lone customer – slowly finished a bowl of pea soup as she read the monitor before her.

Angie asked her, “Anything fun going on with your favorite advice column, Helen?”

“You mean Ask Mia? Not much happening today, just the usual mix of the hopeless and the helpless. Today we got a kid named Tyler who can’t keep his pistol from firing prematurely. But yesterday we had a real doozy. Some gal couldn’t stop fantasizing about other gals – even though she’s getting married to a fella very shortly.”

A chill took hold of Angie’s body. Fearing her cover may get blown, she tried to brush past it. “Sounds pretty boring. Just some sicko who can’t stop thinking about stuff she shouldn’t be thinking about in the first place.”

Helen chuckled. “I suppose my feelings are little different on the matter.”

“What do you mean? You don’t condone that sort of stuff, do you?”

“Well, here’s what I condone. I condone folks fantasizing about whatever they want to fantasize about.”

“Sure, fantasizing is one thing. But doing’s another.”

“It sure is. And there’s nothing more sad than not being able to bring the two together.”

“You mean – “

“Look, fellas with fellas, gals with gals, don’t make any difference to me. If you can’t be with somebody you love, that’s a horror show.” Helen casually got back to her pea soup.

The moment may not have mattered much to Helen, but for Angie it was an emotional explosion. She had to step into the ladies’ room to compose herself. Staring at herself in the mirror, she wished the world could be as simple as Helen suggested. But it wasn’t. The world could be cruel and horrific. And that was the world Angie lived in, a world where having to marry Harvey was her only real option.