Liz Bradshaw prowled around her spacious apartment, a double shot of vodka in hand. Her angular face bare of any makeup, revealed a good-looking woman just shy of forty who was both lonely and depressed.
Mr. Bradshaw had left with no warning some five months back. Liz later learned he'd run off with a twenty year old, leaving Liz with all the bills. Fortunately, she had a decent job as administrator for the Catholic Church in the New Orleans diocese and made do with what she had. Adding to her plight of loneliness at the moment was the fact that her best friend, Midge Rowland, was off skiing in Switzerland.
She ran her hand through her unkempt hair and swallowed the remainder of her overly strong drink, then plopped down in the leather recliner that her husband had loved, or at least Liz thought he'd loved.
She sat there staring off into space until her hand relaxed and the glass fell to the highly glossed oak flooring.
"Shit!" Liz cursed, and then felt immediate remorse and asked God to forgive her for swearing. As Liz went about cleaning up the spilled drink she came across an envelope underneath the recliner and held it in one hand at arms length, and then squinting with one eye, she slowly read what was written on the envelope.
I feel terrible for abandoning you in your time of need.
But if things really get bad, please, please, please, take my advice and call the number
I've listed below. I guarantee they'll perk you up 100%.
All my love,
At the end of the note was a phone number for Delectable Delights, which Liz surmised was an escort service. She was well aware that Midge made use of them, having been divorced for six years and having no intention of remarrying.
Liz walked into the kitchen carrying the envelope, intent on throwing it away in the trash.
But Midge's words, "Please, please, please, take my advice," rang in her ears and she picked up the cell phone lying on the kitchen counter and dialed the number.
After two rings, a sultry feminine voice on the other end of the line answered, "Delectable Delights, Zara speaking, how may I help you?"
Liz was so nervous, that she dropped the cell. Quickly she knelt and retrieved it. "Sorry, I dropped the damn phone," she stammered.
"How may I help you?" Zara repeated.
"I... um, I'm a friend of Midge Rowland and her... she told me to give you a call."
"Midge Rowland?" I have no listing for that name."
"Oh..." all the wind seemed to have left Liz's lungs.
"But that's not unusual," Zara prattled on. "Most callers prefer to remain anonymous."
"Oh," Liz repeated, but this time with added confidence.
"Would you like to make an appointment? Our rates are $200 for the first hour and $150 an hour after that."
"Um, I've never... visited an establishment like yours before. What's customary?"
"First timer, eh? Perhaps you should start with an hour. If you want to continue on, well we can accommodate you easily enough."
"Yes, an hour seems... fine."
"And when would you like to come by? Or perhaps you want us to come to you?"
"Today? I can come by this later this afternoon?"
"Let's see," Zara said, then paused. "Good, we have an opening at four this afternoon. How is that for you?"
Liz thought frantically. That was two hours from now. She had to do her hair and so many other things she thought it impossible.
"I don't know... four is cutting it awfully close."
"Hmm, the next slot is at seven... is that better, Ms?"
"That's perfect Zara, just perfect. Seven it is! Oh, and the name is Bradshaw."
Zara seemed pleased that the caller had remembered her name and arranged for Ms. Bradshaw to have Mike or Danni available for her, then said, "See you then, and thank you for selecting Delectable Delights."
At seven sharp, Liz Bradshaw, hair carefully styled and wearing a new dress and new under garments walked into the small office of Delectable Delights.
Zara, a woman of indeterminate age sat behind the reception desk and glance up as Liz entered.
"Yes, you must be Zara," and she extended her hand in greeting.
Surprised, Zara took her hand and shook it as she appraised the woman standing before her.
"I hope your time here will be more than enjoyable!" Zara said with a wide smile that showed her recently whitened teeth to best advantage. "Now what did you have in mind?"
"Quite frankly, I don't know," Liz told her.
A tear welled up in Liz's eye and streamed down her left cheek as the other eye filled.
Zara took pity on her and quickly offered Liz a tissue, which Liz accepted.
"I... I'm terribly sorry. My husband left me some months ago and I..."
"You haven't given this any real thought, have you?" Zara said, not unkindly.
"I guess not. I suppose I expected a tall, dark and handsome man to be waiting for me," she finished lamely.
"And so he shall... that is if you really want a man."
"What!" Liz exclaimed, ready to panic.
"Please, let me explain," Zara said holding up her hands as if to ward off a blow.
"I was going to suggest..." Zara began, "Um, it's been my experience that our mature women, and by that I do not mean elderly. That our mature women often find solace and enjoyment if they begin with a younger woman."
Zara searched Liz's eyes for the answer before Liz had formulated one.
Liz finally began to respond, but got no further than, "I... I..."
"Zara got up and came out from behind the desk and placed a hand on Liz's shoulder.
"Now it may sound strange. In fact, it is strange. But hear me out, Liz. Being with another woman will generate far less pressure than being with a man would. I mean, with a man you'll undoubtedly feel a need to satisfy his needs when it's your own needs that require attention. A woman can do exactly that."
"Oh!" Liz sighed, instantly regretting having come to this place. Then she had second thoughts about what Zara had told her. 'She's right, ' Liz thought, 'a woman would understand what I've been going through. I seriously doubt a man would.'
"You should know that I... I've never been with a woman before."
"Let's give it a try, shall we?" Zara said with new unbridled enthusiasm. "Tell you what, if for some reason you find you can't do it, we'll switch and bring a guy in. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like you run a business that really wants the client happy."
"That's us!" Zara chirped, then picked up her phone and pressed an extension. "Willow? Would you please come to the front desk, please?"
"I'm sure you'll find Willow to be everything you want," Zara said, as a strikingly beautiful woman, perhaps six feet tall entered the room wearing a light blue negligee.
Liz couldn't help but stare; for Willow's large nipples were visible through the gauzy material. What's more, Liz glanced downward and saw a tuft of blonde pubic hair covering Willow's mons.
Liz's hand went to her mouth in shock.
"You can do this," Zara said, and reached for Liz's hand, then gave it a squeeze. Then to Willow, she said, "Liz is a virgin Sappho wise. Be kind, be caring." Turning back to Liz she said, "Go with her, you'll see I was right about this."
With a great deal of trepidation, Liz followed Willow down a corridor lined with doors. At number 12, Willow knocked twice before entering. When Liz entered, she saw that the room was sparsely furnished, but what furniture and accessories there were, were of the finest quality.
'Why had Willow knocked on the door?' Liz wondered, and then saw another door that provided a second exit from the room. 'Someone might have been in here, ' she thought, then asked Willow if that were the case.
"Yes, it's possible. I always knock to avoid embarrassing anyone. This room is supposed to be unoccupied, and it was, but I barged in on someone a year ago and caused a great deal of embarrassment because the client was rather well known. "
She gave Liz a beatific smile, and said, "So I knock, even if the room is supposed to be unoccupied."
"I understand," Liz responded.
"Would you care for a glass of wine?" Willow inquired.
"Yes, that would be nice, thank you."
The two women each had a drink of wine and made small talk, then placing her wineglass on a small teak table, Willow stood up and said, "Let me get more comfortable for you," and walked into a small bathroom.
Liz nervously swallowed the remainder of her wine and refilled her glass. Her foot tapped relentlessly on the carpeted floor. Suddenly, Willow reappeared and Liz gasped out loud. Willow was standing nude before her.
"Do I meet with your approval?"
Liz swallowed and then haltingly spoke. "Very much so, Willow."
Liz's fingers fluttered over her own cheek and she forced herself to speak again. "Um, please... call me Liz, okay?"
A soft smile crept across the Willow's face as she answered, "Well, Liz, let me help you out of those clothes so we can make you a little more comfortable, okay?"
As Willow began to unbutton the front of Liz's blouse, the older woman pushed her hand away and said, "I'm a little nervous about this. Um, over the years I've put on a little weight, and well, I'm just embarrassed about how I look."
Willow giggled and replied, "Don't be embarrassed, Liz, you have huge boobs, and I just love it when they're big."
.... There is more of this story ...