Chapter 4: Meanwhile

[Author’s Note: Sallie’s Point of View]

I unlocked the door and entered our apartment, hustling to the bathroom for a much-needed pee. Relieved, I skinned everything off my lower half: skirt, half-slip, panties, stockings, and shoes. Charlie watched me carry the whole bundle to my closet with my ass hanging out incongruously under my formal suit coat and blouse.

“Don’t you ever get tired of watching my giant flabby ass, Charlie?”

“Not in the least.” She smirked. “Because, one, not giant, two, not flabby, and three, perfectly adorable.”

“Sounds like someone is in the mood,” I replied.

“Later.” She gave a salacious grin. “For now, just put some fresh panties on it so we can sit and eat. I made tortellini soup, and we have fresh sourdough.” Since it was a day ending in the letter ‘Y’, it was Charlie’s night to cook. I did all the cleaning and housework, it was a fair balance.

“If you weren’t so good at cooking, my ass wouldn’t be getting so flabby and fat,” I complained.

“Fuck! Sallie, we’re not going to do that again.” Charlie sighed. “One more crack about your crack, and I’m going to withhold sex! My ass is bigger than yours, anyway.”

“Your ass is a mighty temple, and I worship it. Here, I’ll take your plate.” I brought everything to the sink and half an hour later the kitchen was clean.

Charlie was a union electrician, making good money working for the city government, necessary in this high-rent town. She was powerful with a slightly stocky body type, but not masculine, in my eyes. It was that feeling of Amazon warrior in her personality, also brought out in the purposeful striding way she moved. I found her very enticing, that way. She happily attracted a lot of interest from the lesbians she met.

I guessed, though, her power was a little unhelpful in finding the long-term romantic lesbian romance Charlie craved. Neither of us really knew why.

Charlie kept her blonde head hair short for practical reasons. At work, her required hard hat meant that less hair was safer and more comfortable. Elsewhere on her body, though, there was free growth: light-colored, fine, and straight, even above her pussy. Neither of us saw the point in shaving. In our old building, the broken radiators were always leaking steam, heating our rooms. To keep comfortable, we just stayed nude or nearly nude all the time, especially during the hot summer months.

We had a sort of marriage of convenience. Neither of us were very good at dating, for some reason. We had been involved with others, in various partnered arrangements, but we had also been friends since high school.

My last boyfriend, Gene, didn’t work out. Gene and I were together for two years, I even moved into his little bungalow in Oakland. We got along well, we had a lot of compatibility. Then Gene brought home Doolie. On top of her idiotic name, Doolie was too stupid to use a smartphone and was plastered top to bottom with piercings and tattoos. Some were misspelled, the whole collection made my teeth grind. And her piercings quite literally poked me the wrong way. Gene was pushing unwanted FFM sex so often it drove me away, four years ago.

Charlie and Marybeth flamed out, also four years ago. Rents were so high, living single was impossible. When our other relationships failed, we would go back to being roommates. I liked imaging us orbiting each other as two heavenly bodies. I didn’t have a man, but Charlie’s body and her arms around me could feel heavenly.

We were fond of each other as long-time loyal friends. We were comfortable and compatible, kind of like family to each other. Not romantic, but not platonic, either. Once or twice a month we succumbed to temptation and fell upon each other like ravenous beasts. Charlie was fully lesbian, and my body unquestionably inspired her lust. I think if we didn’t sleep separately, she would be grinding on me every other night. When I felt extra-bisexual, Charlie left me dripping, too.

I was mostly straight. I thought of myself as only 20% oriented towards women. Realistically, the only pussy I really wanted to play with had blonde hair and belonged to Charlie. Almost all of my fantasies were of men. Men’s strong arms around me. Hard little boy butts, held in my hands. Scratchy male beards on my face. And on my thighs, gah! Rampant cocks, pushing forcefully into my pussy. Maybe even my ass! Rubbing my nipples into chest hairs. And those three special words, in a deep voice, which I longed to hear.

I crawled into Charlie’s big bed and leaned on her shoulder. “I met a man at work, a nice single dad.”

Charlie gave her usual smirk. “Attractive?”

“Very,” I said. “Tall, built and good looking.”

“You sound smitten.” Her smile grew. She wrapped her left arm around me and hugged my waist.

“Smitten? I was aching, just looking at him! When he smiled at me, my breath caught. And his eyes! Gray-blue, blonde brows and lashes. Oh, hon, Andrew’s eyelashes were long and pretty like yours.

“He squatted under my desk to cable my PC. Those suit pants stretched tightly over his hips, ooh.”

She caressed her hand downwards over my butt and gripped it. “Is that why you’re crawling into my bed tonight? Handsome stranger got your motor revved up?”

I began to cry. “But then I fucked up!”

Charlie brows creased with concern. She released my butt and stroked my hair affectionately. “What happened?” she asked in a gentle voice.

“I made a stupid joke, and he responded saying I was hot. And I suddenly lost my mind. Weeping, thinking he was lying, and furious because the lie was cruel. I disbelieved him and my reaction was completely disproportionate. ‘How dare he?’

The poor guy backed off so fast he should have gotten whiplash.”

“Oh no! What happened after that?”

“We hardly spoke the rest of the day,” I said. “But I did calm down and we worked politely together.”

“Sounds like you both ended on good terms.”