Chapter 8

Within minutes of checking into the hotel and unpacking, the phone rang. David answered it.

"Hi, how's it going? Nina? Yeah, she's here, hold on." He handed me the phone. I took it, frowning at him in feigned confusion, but I knew it could be no one else but Vicki.

"Hello?

"Hi, welcome to town." Her voice sent a thrill through me, and my skin tingled like the night I had read her note in the skybox bathroom.

"Just wondering if you'd like to get together, maybe do a little shopping, have a drink while the guys do their thing."

"Umm... that would be great, sure." What was I to say, "no"? Like I had other plans in this city, where I knew no one? The wolf was staring from the foot of a nearby hill.

"I'll pick you up. What time do you want to get together?"

When, in my boring, Atlanta suburb life had it become so commonplace for bi and lesbian women to call and pick me up for dates? I looked at my watch and saw that it was almost six. I covered the mouthpiece and looked at David.

"Honey, what are our dinner plans? Vicki wants to know if-"

He waved me off. "Go... don't worry, Brad and I will probably catch some dinner with his boss. Have a good time."

I returned to the slightly sandpapery voice of Vicki. "Vicki, I can be ready at seven. How should I dress? I mean, what type of place are we-"

"Whatever you like. We're starting off at my house."

I got another pang just then, with that confident way she had decided where we were going to be. And the thought of being alone with her was at once frightening and enticing. I finished the conversation and retreated to the bathroom. I splashed my face and then looked at it in the mirror.

Is this what you want, Nina Cutler? Is this how you are supposed to push Danielle out of your thoughts? Shouldn't you just be having an innocent dinner, intead of furthering this bisexual craziness? What would Jan say if she knew you were doing this? I almost laughed at myself then. Maybe all it will be is an innocent dinner. Maybe no sparks will fly, and we'll just talk. Maybe that's all I need.

And Jan, I reminded myself, told me to look for signs, from other people, for guidance. Maybe Vicki was that sign.

I started touching up my face, and went to pick out my clothes.

Vicki drove a white Jaguar, and she looked pretty impressive sitting there behind the wheel, in a red dress that went down to her calves, with a long slit up one leg almost to her hip. Her wavy auburn hair gracefully adorned her face, and her thick lips were modestly painted with a light coat of clear gloss.

We chatted pretty casually about very non-threatening subjects on the ride to her house, a two-story place on a hill just outside Saint Paul, Minneapolis' twin city.

In her living room, my heels clacked gently on the wood floor. I had picked out a simple light blue slip dress with a fringed hem. I liked the way that felt on my thighs.

She took my coat. "How about a glass of wine?"

"Sounds nice, sure."

She returned with two glasses of chilled Chardonnay, and to my surprise, took my hand. "C'mon, let me show you the house."

I let her lead me through the place, upstairs, downstairs, back deck, and a woodsy back yard. "We have deer come up right up by the deck here all the time," she said. "They almost become a pest some times."

I sipped, and walked with her, oohed, ahhed, and complimented. It was a lovely place.

When we sat, she shook her hair from her face and put the wine glass down.

"I'm really glad you came up. You've had a long trip, so I say we relax a little. Want to do some steam?"

I wasn't sure what "do some steam" really meant. Was she into some nouveaux drug? "Steam?"

She laughed. "Yeah. Brad and I had our own sauna built here. It's great. Especially in winter. We've got a jacuzzi that's surrounded by glass, too. I absolutely love soaking in that and looking out at all the ice and snow. There's nothing like it."

That did sound kind of luxurious. "Wow."

"Yeah," she smiled, "but we can start in the steam room if you like. We can finish our wine in there."

Clearly, Vicki was into experiencing this hot-cold contrast, and I found it kind of intriguing myself. She also had this way of smiling when she said, "Yeah" with her head tilted a little, that was kind of endearing. It made her seem younger than her mid-thirty or so years. Her husband, Brad, looked to be about forty, and I was only guessing at Vicki's age. Before I could even decide if I wanted to "do some steam," she was up, taking my hand again. Like the times I was with Danielle, I felt almost as if everything happening was a foregone conclusion. It was going to happen, like I was just an actress, living a script that destiny had long since approved.

We walked past her kitchen, through a hallway that led to a laundry room and then through a door that brought us into a big, white, tiled closet. Towels hung neatly on two racks, and there were several hangers and a couple of bathrobes.

"Go ahead and get undressed," she said, her hand brushing my back. "And meet me in there." She pointed to a wooden door with a small window, on the other side of the closet. She walked off with her wine, presumably to her own changing area.

I got out of my dress, bra, and panties, and hung them on a hanger and then wrapped myself in a towel. I opened the door to the small but very professional looking steam room. The moist, warm air enveloped me immediately. Clouds of steam swirled gently in from the vents, and I noticed Vicki lounging, completely naked, on the second of three tiers of benches. I sat next to her feet, and took another sip of my wine. I heard a metallic clink, and saw that it was her fingernail, tapping a small metal bucket with a bottle sticking out of it.

"I brought the Chardonnay," she announced, smiling. She had quite a body, much more voluptous than mine, or Danielle's, which was taller and leaner. Her feet were crossed. "Like it?"

"This is very nice," I said, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. "What a great addition to your house."

"We enjoy it at least three times a week."

She leaned forward, and without asking, untucked the front of the towel, peeling it off me. "You don't need that in here."

"Ok," I said, and instantly felt the heat rise in my loins when she uncovered me.

The steam was getting a little thicker, and so was my voice. There was no doubt where this was going, and I had blissfully convinced myself I was powerless to stop it. My nipples, despite the heat and humidity in the close confines, were getting thick and stiff.

Vicki had slid toward me a little bit and was tickling my side with her toes.

"Hey," I said playfully, and I gave her foot a smack with my hand. She gave me a dramatic pout.

"Aww, you meanie," she said, a wicked look in her eyes. "Now my poor little footsie is all hurt and depressed."

I laughed. The silly, girlish game and the flirting were exciting me tremendously.

"Ok, I'll make them all better," I said. I began to massage her feet. She stopped the theatrical pout and took a sip of her wine. I looked into her eyes. They gleamed at me with almost a deep and irresistable naughtiness.

"You have pretty feet," I said, looking down at them, thinking it might be safer to look there. Safer? I thought just then. I was anything but safe now. The wolf hadn't just pointed me to the ravine--I was galloping after him by this point.

"Thank you."

She did have pretty feet, I decided. I did something then I had never dreamed about. Suddenly, I wanted to kiss her feet, so I leaned down, and tenderly kissed the tops of her toes. I heard her "mmm" in approval, so I moved my kisses to the top of her foot. How beautiful it felt, to kiss them! I never had thought of that, with Danielle. Then again, I scarcely had the chance.

I took her big toe into my mouth and began to suck it like a penis.

"Ohh honey!" she whispered, obviously enjoying it immensely. I moved myself so I could get comfortable and spend some time on each toe, and by now she had uncrossed her feet and was laying back, rubbing her breasts. I glanced up at her several times and found myself absolutely spellbound with the feeling of her toes in my mouth while she played with her own breasts.

The steam was like the setting for a dream-state of hidden passion, like we were in our own cloud. I was slippery and moist between my legs, and now I wanted her so badly I was burning inside. I moved my mouth up, along her calf, kissing, licking and nibbling as I got to her thighs. Vicki squirmed, moaning sweetly as both of her hands squeezed and caressed her nipples.

Then, she raised one knee, just as I got near her pussy, and did something so wild and kinky I thought I would faint. She took her wine glass and poured a healthy dollop of the Chardonnay right onto her pussy.