A Chance Encounter

 

True, she had been on my mind, but actually meeting her in person had been a complete coincidence...

***

Let's rewind back to last Friday.  

Mel, my best friend since forever, had been sprawled across my bed, glued to her telephone screen as usual.  I'd been sitting cross-legged in the floor, my back resting against the bed with a book in my lap.  This seating arrangement has been the norm for us ever since our college days (and those were ten years behind us!).  To say we were creatures of habit, I suppose, would be an understatement.

Mel was butch, but she'd never quite been my type.  Where she was big-boned and rough around the edges, I craved a softer more sensual butch.  But that hadn't prevented her from following me across campus the first time our eyes ever met and attempting to beguile me into bed the whole first semester of Freshman year.  She'd given up by Christmas break, though, and her silly whirlwind advancements toward me had resulted in an amazing girl bond between us.  

We were forever friends, but we were also two of the few lesbians on campus in those days.   And, not surprisingly for our little cozy Appalachian mountain town, we also happened to be almost the only two LGBT women of all our hometown.  And...that really made prospects for dating difficult, which brings me back to the current situation.

Mel had been trolling social media for 'chicks' and I was perfectly sedate with my trashy romance novel (I mean, you got to experience the thrill of cheap love ever how you can, eh?) when suddenly she jumped up in her melodramatic way, exclaiming, "Oh man, look who I found, and she's single now!"

She thrust her telephone inches before my face, my eyes nearly crossing in an attempt to make out the headshot on the screen.  I held the telephone away and a face came into view.  I'd never seen the girl, but she was attractive in a homely sort of way.  Her congeniality was young, smile bright, but the wrinkles at the corners of her mouth and eyes gave away her age.  I guessed her at a mid-to-late thirties.  She sported a hoodie sweatshirt and long, wavy hair.  I could tell she was masculine, one of the 'pony-tail dykes' as people in our parts referred to them.

"I have no idea who this is,"  I shoved the phone back to Mel, feigning disinterest.  In part, at least.  I really didn't know the woman.  And she didn't know me.  And social media a very gray, desperate playing field for those of us a little too eager to find 'true love.'  I wasn't about to add a stranger to my Facebook and make a fool of myself.  On the other hand, I couldn't deny she'd been cute.  But, of course, it could have been a filter...so why fool myself into daydreaming about impossibilities?

"I knew her in high school,"  Mel lifted her eyes at me as if for emphasis.  "Her name is Sammie. She was married to some girl for a while, but must have gotten a divorce.  Her profile says 'single.'  She was never my type...but she's definitely yours."  

"Hmm, I don't think so,"  I said flippantly.  I'd gone back to reading my book, or at least pretending to.  "I don't level well with the online playing field.  I prefer to meet in person, or not at all.  All that other shit seems so forced and even...desperate."

"Gee, thanks," Mel tossed a pillow at me.  "You know like, almost every hook-up I've ever found came from a dating app!"

"Exactly," I narrowed my eyes at her.  "And that's just it, they were all hook-ups."  I shrugged my shoulders.  "I may just die alone for this, but I'm sorry Mel, I just want more."

That night, long after Mel left and I'd had my night-cap of cheap drug-store wine (courtesy of Mel as well), I laid in bed gazing at the arrangement of green plastic glow-in-the-dark stars I'd glued to the ceiling.  Some people probably would find it a silly thing for a thirty-nine year old to do, even immature.  I didn't care though, I preferred to nurse my inner child and the stars made the darkness a little more dreamy and exciting than just...well...an empty ceiling.  

I was nearing slumber when the memory of her face danced behind my eyes.  Sammie...

"Grrr," I moaned as I blindly fumbled for the cell phone I knew was somewhere on my nightstand.  

Finding it at last, I flipped open the Facebook app and quickly typed her name into the search bar.  I had no last name to go on, so I plugged our hometown into the location instead and hoped for the best.  I scrolled ten profiles down...Sammie Jones, Sammie Schmidt, Sammie Daughtery...and then there was the familiar headshot!  Her name read: Sammie Sullivan.

"Sammie Sullivan," It definitely had a ring to it.  I allowed the name to roll across my tongue as I clicked my way through her photos.  

Two hours later and I had discerned that Sammie was, indeed, single.  She had a teenager daughter, was newly divorced, her ex wife was in prison (wow factor there), she was utterly and hopelessly bitter, and she was a Leo (who is said to in no way be compatible with a Pisces).  Call me a new-aged hippie all you want, but horoscopes are prophecies, so the incompatibility in our stars solidified my doubts.

"Noway," I groaned as I tossed the phone back onto my nightstand.  

She may be attractive, but love required a lot more than that.  Love?  What was I thinking?  I didn't even know the girl...and worse, she had no idea I even existed!

"Oh my god, just go to sleep already," I chastised myself.

***

Fast forward a week and a day.  

Saturday, February 14th, to be exact.  Yep, the ever-dreaded Valentines day.  Being a single lady, and an introverted nerd, I always spent 'couples day' on the couch with my two cats, a carton of ice cream and take-out food from whatever joint wasn't bulging at the seams with cute little well-dressed puppy-dog lovers.

My day had been planned, my pajamas pulled on, the TV remote control and wine rearranged on my side table when the phone rang. 

"Hey Jane,"  it was Mel, and she sounded out of breath.  "I'm kinda in a bind, think you can help me?"

"Uh," I hesitated.  It wasn't a question of if I could help, but whether if I wanted to.  Mel had a way of getting herself in a bind and then depending on me to come to the rescue.

"Please, look,"  she was panting now.  "Thanks to this great, uh, holiday, the restaurant is running over and I'm a little behind on my tables."  Okay, that made sense, considering Mel was the assistant manager at Weiner World.

"Um, okay," I waited for the rest of her sob story.

"Uh, well," she hesitated.  "I got a date tonight-"

"Nooo," I wailed.  I seriously did not want to hear about her latest romantic liaison, doubly so since I was single on Valentine's Day...again.

"Naw, please listen Jane," I heard her suck in a breath and wondered if she was holding the phone with her shoulder while juggling an armload of dirty dishes. 

The mental image softened my resolve, "Spit it out, love.  What do you need?"

"Oh god, oh thanks...listen,"  she huffed some more.  "Like I said, I got a date with this girl, this hot girl.  Man she's hot...anyway, I need some flowers and candy, maybe a cute card.  Not a serious card, just a cute one...maybe with  a cat or something on it."

"Alright, alright, fine," I threw the fleece blanket off my lap and began to make my way for the clothes basket in the bathroom.  Where were my damn yoga pants?  I'd just had them on earlier.  

"Okay great, I will pick them up on my way home," Mel said. "Probably sometime after 8."

"Sure, okay," I looked at my watch, it was 6:30.  The quickest place for flowers and cards would probably be the local pharmacy.  They were over-priced on their merchandise, but it saved me a 15 minute drive to the closest shopping center, plus Mel would pay me back anyway so it really wasn't a loss to me.

Before I knew it, I'd maneuvered the six blocks to CVS whilst listening to some of the cheesiest love songs known to modern radio.  Gah, I was hating Valentine's Day more by the second!

The shelves were nearly bare, which was no surprise...most couples probably had already celebrated, or were in the process of doing so.  I absent-mindedly grabbed a bouquet of rainbow-colored daisies and a box of heart-shaped candy before making my way to the card aisle.  How in the hell was I supposed to pick out a card for someone elses' date?  I didn't even know the girl.

I was standing there, haphazardly reading cards and then discarding them.  Where were the silly ass cards with little fuzzy cats and puppy dogs?

"Gees, who even wants to receive something like this," I'd just read the sappiest verse of my entire life and threw the card back on the display.

"I totally understand what you mean."

I'd been so wrapped up in finding the right card for Mel that I failed to notice someone else had walked up beside me.  She, too, was fumbling amongst the cards and discarding them almost as quickly as she read them.

"Uh, yeah," I glanced at her form from the side of my eye, just another fellow shopper.  "These things are way cheesy.  It's been so long since I bought a Valentine card, much less read one."  Wasn't that the truth.

"Right," her voice was unique, she had a deep southern drawl.  "I'm trying to find something kid-friendly, my daughter is 13.  No romantic cards for me this year, not since separating from my wife."

"Oh,"  the 'wife' part definitely got my attention.  I stopped fumbling with the cards and actually looked up.  No way!  Could that...was that really her??  I took her form in:  medium height, slim...even lithe, long wavy hair, brown eyes, big smile.  "Um, yeah, totally," I realized I'd been staring.  What was I doing?

"Yeah," she tilted her head and looked at me head on.  Was that amusement I saw in her eyes?  She seemed to notice how flustered I was.  She also seemed to be enjoying it!

"Yep, I am Valentine shopping for my friend,"  I cleared my throat, aware that I probably sounded like a crazy person.  "She's working late, I'm actually single."  Why did I say that?  I was making myself look way too eager!

"That's too bad," she drawled, a sly smile breaking loose from the edges of her mouth.

"Yep," I made a desperate last attempt to save myself from mortification and grabbed a random card.  "Found one!"  I turned to go, desperate to escape her eyes.  This woman was making me more nervous by the second.

"Hold on," she'd grabbed me by the wrist.  She was bold.  I liked that.  "My name is Sammie," she reach her other hand out.

"Jane," I stammered as she pumped my hand up and down.

***

"I love eighties music," she said as she pressed a dial on the car radio.  "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," I lied.  If we were doing oldies, I preferred the seventies.  Really, though, I loved more of a sultry, feminine voice...perhaps Sarha McLachlan or Frou Frou.

I laid my head back against the seat as Journey began to play.  I watched the traffic get thinner and the streetlights disappear as we left the city behind.  What was I doing? Maybe I had finally lost my mind.  I mean, here was the probable truth:  1)  I'd just left my vehicle in a drugstore parking lot unattended for an unforeseeable amount of time 2) I'd just accepted the offer to accompany a woman I didn't know (okay a woman I barely knew) to her home for drinks and 3) Mel was going to kill me if I wasn't back home by 8 to give her the stupid gifts she asked me to buy.

***

After an age-long drive past winding country roads into what looked to be the middle of nowhere, Sammie finally whipped her gray SUV into a gravel-lined driveway.  A quaint cottage-like house stood silhouetted in the dim moonlight.  It stood yellow, with maroon shutters and was dwarfed by a tall, black-shingled roof. 

"Built it myself, with my own hands," Sammie offered as she jumped out, and I followed suit.  

"That's pretty impressive," I answered.  And I meant it.

We both stood on our respective sides of the car for a few moments.  Me, watching the moon slip between the black edges of tree-tops beyond the hills.  And she, watching me.  

"How about we get on inside," Sammie led the way.

I followed her past a small living room, through a tiny but comfy-looking kitchen and down a small hallway.  Illumination from a small electric nightlight nestled near the floor of the hallway was our only light.  She walked slowly, but with a purpose.  I stayed in close pursuit.  As we passed yet another corner, she reach back and took my hand.

"Almost there," she said softly over her shoulder.  I could make out the shadow of her lips, thick and sultry against dim light.  I licked my own in response.

At last she opened a door on the left, I stepped into another room lit only by the smoky haze of moonlight.  

"Just have a seat for a moment," she said as she moved beyond my field of vision.  

I could make out a queen sized bed, draped in a blanket of blue patchwork.  Nervous and wondering what the hell I was doing with this strange woman, in her strange room, I sat stiffly on the edge of the bed and waited for what was to come next.

I heard her in a room just beyond the bedroom, I guessed it was the master bath.  She seemed to be rummaging in the cabinet, I heard things being rearranged and moved around.  I momentarily regretted my decision, hoping she wasn't into crazy fetishes like spiked dildos or gag balls...neither of which particularly turned me on.

She appeared in the bathroom doorway a moment later, "Got us some candles."

'That sounds great," I said.  It actually did.  I had a penchant for candles and scented tarts.

I watched her carefully light a tray full of candles in various sizes.  She had long, slender fingers.  I liked that in a woman.

"That better?"  She turned to smile at me.  A lop-sided smile.  Was that a mischievous glint in her eye, or was I imagining things for the sake of my own building excitement?

"Wonderful," I said breathlessly.  I really needed to get a grip.  I sounded about as nervous as I was.  When was the last time I'd allowed myself the rendezvous of a one-night stand, or an intimate encounter with a complete stranger?  It must have been years...

"Its not often I get the place to myself," she smiled.  "My daughter is spending the weekend with her grandmother, gives me a little time to myself."

"I see," I stammered.  I had no kids.  What was my excuse for having no sex life? "No kids here."  I shrugged.

"Nothing wrong with that," she said, reaching to smooth the hair behind my ear.  "Do you mind?"

"No...."

Suddenly her breath was on my neck.  Hot, moist.  She flicked her tongue across my ear lobe, traced my collar bone in a trail with her tongue.  Then her mouth found mine.  She began to suck my mouth, to kiss my lips.  Her kiss was cool, the taste of spearmint gum.  Hungrily, she gently bit my tongue with her teeth and then let go.

I reach for her breasts.  Her nipples were hard.  I teased them with my finger-tips.  Her hands were in my hair.  Her tongue in my mouth.  I couldn't remember the last time I'd been more turned on by a woman.

She pushed me onto the bed, straddling me.  In a cloud of rushing arms and legs, suddenly we were both naked.  Her mouth was everywhere.  From the crevice in the side of my neck all the way down to the beginning of my pubic path.  She took one of my hardened nipples into her mouth for a suck, then quickly retreated to the other while I ran my fingernails up and down her back.

"Are you ready for me," she whispered huskily into my ear.

"Yes, oh yes," I nearly begged.  I was already dripping wet.

She licked two fingers and thrust them inside me.  My vagina writhed against her digits.  In and out, she worked me while sucking my nipples, returning to my mouth, then back to my belly button again. With two fingers still inside me, she dipped her face between my legs, flicked her tongue against my clit in tandem to her finger-thrusting.  She kept eye contact the entire time, a coy smile playing across her lips.  God, she had beautiful eyes.  Large, brown, a doe caught in headlights.

"Yes, fuck yes," I moaned as I gyrated my hips and moaned against her fingers.  I'd lost all my inhibitions.  And I didn't care to get them back.

When I finally came all over her hand, she tossed her head back in a girlish giggle.  Then she pulled her fingers from my cunt and stuffed them into my mouth.  Hungrily, I tasted myself.  Tasted the orgasm she'd just given me.  

"You're a dirty girl, you know that?"  She looked so serious.

"Oh yes," I said.  "Please allow me to show you just how dirty I am."

"I'm game," she shrugged her shoulders as if challenging me.

I grabbed her ponytail, pushed her face-first onto the bed.

"Oh, I like it rough," she gasped.

I let go of her hair, smacked each ass cheek hard.  She was slim enough but she had curves.  I liked that.  Curves turned me on.  Her ass bounced as I smacked it, one cheek after the other.   Once her cheeks were good and red, I pushed her face back into the pillow.  

I hadn't slept with anyone in over a year.  I was hungry, ravenous.  I knew I was being filthy and instead of being repulsed I was unashamed, ravenous. 

Slowly, I ran my wet tongue from her neck, down the crevice in her back.  I stopped when I reach her ass crack, took a moment to stuff two fingers into her vagina.  She was soaked, her juices dripped down my hand.  I could smell her, it made my clit throb.  

Slowly, I ran my tongue down her crack.  I stopped at her asshole for a minute, flicked my tongue across it.

"Oh my god, yes," she wiggled.  She leaned back, pushing my face between her cheeks.  "More."

As if on cue, I buried my tongue into her tight hole.  She was bitter, delicious.  I licked and sucked and slurped and made out with her rear end until my lips began to tingle.  All the while thrusting three fingers inside her cunt for good measure.  By the time I pulled away, my face was dripping wet, a mixture of my own drool and her juices.  She had cum several times, pushing against my hand.  I could smell all of her all over me.  Her pink hole was glistening, dripping.  So tight and waiting for some more of me.  It puckered.  I stuck my tongue inside one more time and felt my clit began to twitch.  

"It's my turn again," I said as I grabbed her pony-tail again and flipped her onto her back.  In an instant I was straddling her face.  "Suck my clit," I ordered her.

I rode her face, fucked her tongue, bucked so hard the headboard slammed against the wall and something fell in another room.  At last my cunt exploded in the strongest orgasm I'd had in years.

I collapsed beside her, both of us gasping for breath.  I was exhausted.  What time was it?  We had been fucking for what seemed like hours.  It was the middle of the night.  I was in some strange woman's bed. My legs felt like rubber.  How was I even going to even walk to her car, drive home once I reach my own car?  And what would happen between us after tonight?  So many questions and no answers.

I heard her giggle beside me.  "Happy Valentine's Day," she said.

"Oh yes, definitely," I answered.  

Mel was going to kill me.  It was okay, I'd die happy.