Opposites Attract

 I walked quickly, taking note of the sky.  Early evening had come on without warning.  Clouds scattered and covered the sun.  Soon an early dusk would turn the long parking lot into a deep gray.  

Gray is a good color for secrets, I thought to myself as I shuffled across the gravel-littered asphalt.  The large parking lot served as a gateway between the good part of town and the slums.  I don't know whose idea it was to nestle an electric company and a host of businesses so close to a run-down trailer park, but there it was.  

I was lucky enough to come from the right side of the asphalt, a little cul-de-sac of newer two-story houses, complete with shiny silver appliances and all the common-day comforts a housewife could ask for.  All except a husband who stayed home, because mine certainly didn't.  What with all the business meetings and out-of-towners, I was virtually single for the better part of the week.

Sure, I had everything I wanted.  Material-wise, that is.  Everything but the comfort of someone's arms around me on a cold night, someone to go downstairs at 3 in the morning and check what that random noise was, someone to help me suppress (or express) those carnal needs that befall a lady once the night falls and she finds herself alone.

I guess that is part of why I'd taken to walking.  I'm a girl who loves the evening.  I've never been a sun-bather and I don't enjoy boiling in the Southern summer heat so my walks are done in the evening.  My neighborhood sits atop a hill, I can literally see half the city from my back patio. So, every night at 7pm I begin a trek down the slope of newly-laid blacktop.  The road leads straight to a huge parking lot where all the old neighborhood businesses sit.  The farther back the buildings go, the more ramshackle they grow to be.  Until, finally, once you pass the last building, you find a dirty path that leads straight into the outlying depths of an old trailer park.

That's how I'd first met her.  Days earlier, curiosity had gotten the best of me.  I'd walked far beyond the business area and several yards across the dirt path until I realized I was actually standing in someone's back yard.  Her back was to me and she was pinning clothes to one of those old fashioned back-yard clothes lines.  At first I thought she was a man as I watched her lift and then shake the wrinkles from each article of clothing before meticulously pinning it to the line.  

An old trailer sat only a feet beyond where she stood.  I'd immediately noticed some shingles on the roof were missing and one of the windows had been sloppily boarded with a piece of plywood where obviously the window had been lost.  The back porch had been old, it seemed to be sagging beneath the weight of it's years.  This seems like such a sad place to live, I'd said to myself, noticing that the surrounding trailers all were in much the same condition,.  Some were worse than others.

My eyes had roamed back to the figure, watched as it bent over, straightened up, and again.  Maybe it was the lack in my sex life, but I couldn't take my eyes off the ripped shoulders beneath the white wife-beater.  How the muscles rippled with each bend.  The firm backside, the short, spiked blonde hair.  I found myself wondering how the skin of his neck would taste.  

You can imagine the shock when suddenly, in one swift movement, this slim man had removed his wife beater to reveal a sports bra full with firm, perky breasts.  I think my jaw may have even dropped open.  So he was actually a she!  I'd watched, mesmerized, as she balled the shirt up, used it to wipe the sweat off her brow.  It was then I noticed I was starting to sweat too.  

This was the first time I'd ever found myself attracted to another female and as much as I had been enjoying the voyeuristic scene, my first reaction was to bolt and run.

I was just turning on my heel to go when the lithe, sexy woman threw over her shoulder in a husky female voice, "You going to just stand there watching, or care to introduce yourself?"

Her bold question had resulted in a five minute conversation.  Mostly with me stammering a hurried explanation about my new neighborhood and how obviously I'd lost my sense of distance and walked too far.  Straight into her backyard!  She'd introduced herself as Ellie, short for Elizabeth.

"I'm Shayla," I'd stammered.  I no longer knew what I was doing.   I'd been aware only of the fact that the longer she talked, the sexier she became.  I'd scoured my surroundings, looking for a good excuse for a quick exit.  It was almost dark.  That would have to do.  "Oh, it's getting dark I really need to be getting back," I exclaimed.

"You sure you don't want to come in for a drink," she'd said, nodding her head in the direction of the run-down trailer.  "I live alone here since my maw died.  It's lonely but comfy enough."

As much as I would have loved to stick around and stare at this woman some more, I'd declined with a promise that maybe one day in the near future I'd return.

"Well," she'd smiled sheepishly and winked at me.  "Dryer is broke, you can find me out here about every night around seven, hanging clothes."  She'd chuckled, as if what she said were some kind of joke.

She'd winked at me, smiled, threw her hand up as if in a friendly salute as I turned to go.

All the way home that night, the duration of a twenty minute walk uphill and through the blessedly manicured neighborhood with houses that had real windows and not plywood, I'd thought of her.  Her full, white, sheepish smile.  How one corner of her lip rose up higher than the other when she spoke.  The invitation for a drink.  And the wink.  She'd been hitting on me.

For three nights since, I'd lain awake far past my bedtime, thinking of that mouth and touching myself.  I'd also been avoiding my evening walks.  I struggled to put my finger on exactly what I was feeling.  

As I sat at my long, fancy kitchen table that fourth evening, drinking wine from a juice glass and noting the empty chairs and my lack of human contact, the air seemed to grow oppressive.  Jim had called earlier, with a rushed two minute conversation about some kind of corporate meeting overseas.  He wouldn't be home again until next week.  So much for a romantic weekend!

I was three drinks deep in my feelings as I ran my fingertips across the side of my neck and scratched a gentle path deep into my cleavage.  I was burning up.  A good walk was what I needed.  The cool night air would cheer me up.

I'm not even sure if I knew at first where I was going.  It's almost like my feet subconsciously carried me.  Down the steep slope of asphalt, past the parking lot that was quickly emptying as tired business folk locked their doors for the day.  I zig-zagged past parked cars and a few pedestrians walking their dogs until suddenly I was upon the right-hand corner of the last building.  I noted the crack in it's front swinging glass door, the random bricks that had fallen from it's foundation as I shuffled on.  And then I was there, standing on the dirt path.   

I thought about the neighborhood as I shuffled along.  How quickly the setting switched like night to day, from nice houses and well-kept lawns to the rundown buildings and a trashy trailer court.  Are you actually going to sleep with a strange lesbian woman who lives in a dump?  You don't even know her last name!  If my thoughts served to detour me, they proved unsuccessful.  If anything, the idea thrilled me.  It turned me on that Ellie was from the proverbial wrong side of the tracks.  The prospect of sleeping with a sexy butch lady for the first time excited me.  My heart thumped in anticipation of whatever this night would bring.

I could see Ellie's dilapidated trailer as I turned the corner.  I hesitated for a moment.  What will you say?  You are a married woman.  You are straight!  I was bombarded with these thoughts, even as my legs carried me forward.  Is it really cheating if it's with a woman?  But you've never slept with another female.  How do you know she'd even want you?  I had no viable answer to the banter of this inner dialogue, so I just shut my mind off completely and allowed my feet to carry me.

The backyard was empty.  Ellie wasn't hanging clothes.  So my first reaction was to just turn around and go.  But my body was no longer listening to my brain.  Steadily, my steps carried me across the backyard, muddy spare a few patches of grass here and there.  Straight up the back steps I went, and across that rickety old porch that rocked beneath my feet like it might just give away any minute.  This thing could cave in at any moment.  You may just die here.  What a way to go!  

I'm sure my mind would have kept conjuring scenarios of doom had Ellie not opened the back door.  Without a word, she flashed that crooked half-smile, opened the door and nodded her head as if to say I've been waiting for you, come on in.

We exchanged hurried hellos before I found myself seated on an old plaid couch.  It looked like a piece of discarded furniture that you might find in a college  dorm room or an old garage piece.  But it looked clean so I leaned into it's soft cushions as Ellie served drinks.

"I'm afraid it's plain old beer for me," she apologized.  "Nothing fancy here.  But it's cold."  She handed me a Michelob and smiled before popping her can open.

We were three cans into a conversation about our differing neighborhoods and the lack of jobs in our area when she placed her hand on my knee and asked pointedly, "For what do I owe you this visit, Shayla?"

"I'm lonely," I blurted out.  Oh my god, why would you say that.  That sounds so...desperate!

"Well," she smiled, looked down at her hand on my knee, looked back at me.  " I can definitely remedy that."

"I'm also married," I sighed.  I might as well be completely honest about my situation.   I feared she might very well ask me to leave but I'd learned long ago how unfair it was to withhold important information where love and sex was concerned.  "But he's a businessman, always gone."

She nodded, I could see the wheels in her head turning.

"I've also never been with a woman," I spat out before she had a chance to turn me down.

She giggled.  Obviously my confessions amused her.  I smiled back at her.  She leaned forward.  Her face was so close to mine now.  I noticed a tiny brown mole over her left upper lip.  And those eyes, they were an azure bluish-purple.  Her eyes, alone, were mesmerizing.  A whisp of hair short, blonde hair and fallen over her eyes.  Instinctively I reach to smooth it away from her face.

I had one hand cupped against her cheek, the fingers of my other had made a weave through her hair.  So soft.  She was so soft and beautiful.  

She licked her lips, reach her hand up, laid it over the one I had against her cheek.  

"Don't stop touching me," she nestled her cheek against my palm.  "You feel so good.  Maybe I'm lonely too.  We can help each other."

Before I could breathe another word of protest, she'd cupped my face in her heads.  She pulled me in for a kiss.  Deep, long, her sultry hot tongue probing my mouth.  In and out, she massaged my tongue with her own.  I thought my lungs were going to burst for air when she finally pulled back.

"Oh my," my vocabulary had left me.  All I could do is murmur and agree.

"C'mere," she said as she laid the flat of her back on the couch.  She pulled me on top in one swift moment.  She was strong.  I liked that.

I was straddling her now as she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down for another long kiss.  

We kissed and made out for what seemed like an eternity.  Ellie was good with her tongue.  She would run it down the side of my neck, nibble my ear lobe, then thrust it back into my mouth like the treat it was.  We were only kissing, but I couldn't get enough.

Finally, after both our lips were chapped satisfactorily, she pulled my shirt off, and her own, seemingly at the same time.  I was impressed as she pushed both her breasts against my own.  I could feel her hard nipples as the scraped against my sensitive tits.  She must have sensed the discomfort in my face because she suddenly grabbed them both, taking turns to gently suck and kiss each nipple.  Over and over, she sucked, flicked her tongue, switched tits and started all over.  

My nipples had always been sensitive.  I'd never even let the men I slept with fondle them, much to their chagrin.  Ellie must have been working some type of tongue magic, because my cunt couldn't get enough of her sucking my nipples.  

"Pants off," she huffed, laying back down.  "Panties too," she smiled, an afterthought.

Her cunt was every bit as wet as mine.  I sat hunched on my heels, straddled over her.  I was wide open and dripping.  My little pink clit was already swollen.  She laid below me, her legs spread wide and bent at the knees.  She was ready to receive me but I had other plans.

I reach down with my finger, ran my fingertip the length of her sexy, wet slit.  She moaned and watched me as  I sucked her honey off my fingers.  I dipped again, this time with two fingers.  I wasn't ready to suck though, I wanted to really get my fingers wet.  With no warning I thrust both fingers into her, up to the hilt.  She moaned and thrust her hips up.  In and out, I worked her little wet honey hole.  The harder I fucked her with my fingers, the wetter she was.  Finally my hand was covered in juices.   

I pulled my fingers out and made a demonstration of carefully, slowly sucking her sweet juices off my hand.  Finger by finger, the length of my palm.  I wanted her to watch my tongue at work.

"C'mere," she reach to pull me down.

"No," I refused.  "Your juices aren't enough, I want to taste you."

I'd never had anything in my mouth before but a cock.  But her sweet cunt was nothing like the rough, hard men I'd been with over the years.  She was soft to the touch.  Moist.  Creamy.  I sucked on her little bud, flicked my tongue across it.  Then I moved down to get the full taste of her honey hole.  I wanted to smell the sweet smell of her, taste the salt of her hole as it tightened around my tongue and she moaned.

I licked and sucked until she was nearly dry.  Then I licked and teased her clit once more until she got wet for me all over again.

"Please," she begged, reaching for me as if she needed saving.  "I want to feel you against me."

My legs were getting tired by now anyway, so I lowered my cunt onto hers suddenly, with all my weight, and no warning.

"Oh," she gasped.  That as the surprise I was looking for.

I don't know what had gotten into me, but I sort of enjoyed inflicting the little bit of pain onto her clit.  I liked being able to take control, take her by surprise.

I was barely moving as she attempted to thrust and rub her full, wet cunt across my open, throbbing little hole.  But I was resisting.

"Okay," her eyes flickered as she reach up and grabbed me by the hair, roughly pulling my head sideways.  "You are going to fuck me, right now."

"Oh," I cried as she wrapped my hair around her hand and continued to pull my head at an awkward angle as she thrust her clit into mine, over and over.  

I'd never really had my hair pulled.  My husband was not a rough lover.  Actually, he'd never been much of a lover at all.  He treated our sex life like some sort of duty.  Usually he'd climb on top, grunt, thrust a few times, and then fall over on his side of the bed.  Done until next week!

This was different.  Ellie was making me feel things.  And, I found, a little bit of pain and roughhouse excited me.  The harder she pulled my hair, the harder my clit throbbed.

She pulled my head down, kissed me deeply.  I she flicked her tongue in and out of my mouth in tandem with her hips against my hips.  I caught it with my teeth, sucked.  She tasted so good.  I had no idea a woman could taste and feel so good. Perhaps I've been playing the wrong team my entire life, I thought to myself and chuckled.

"Oh," she grunted against my mouth.  "I'm about to come."

"Not yet, you aren't," I said as I  climbed off and dived between her legs with my face. I wanted to lick her off.  I'd never done that before, but I figured it wouldn't be too difficult.  Being a woman, myself, I knew how to please.  I caught her hard little clit between my lips, sucked gently. She pushed her hips into my face while I gently fucked her clit with my tongue.  

Right when she was about to come I pulled back.

"Don't stop," she seemed irritated as she thrust her hips into the air where my head had been just a second earlier.

"You are being a bad girl," I said.  "First forcing me to fuck you before I was ready.  Second, being impatient."  I tilted my head sideways, as if I were thinking hard about something.  "I think you need punished."

Her eyelids lifted, as if in question.  Before she could ask what or how, or anything else, I raised my hand and smacked her clit hard.  Surprised, she closed her legs quickly.

"Oh, no," I said.  "You have to take your punishment." 

I lowered my mouth to her cute, tight little pink honey hole and thrust my tongue in and out while I gently spanked her clit.  Over and over I smacked her little piece of meat until she began to moan.  Still, I kept going, pausing every now and then to give it  a nice little suck.

I spanked and sucked and fucked her with my tongue until, at least, she came hard.  I dipped my tongue inside her and allowed her juices  to sleep all over my lips and into my mouth.  I slurped, swallowed.  I wanted every drop of this sexy woman.  She came and moaned and pulled my hair.  

Her cunt was so sexy and wet and I was so close to cumming myself.  I dipped two fingers inside her with one hand as I continued licking the juices off her clit, then with my other hand, I fucked myself off.  It only took a matter of seconds.  I'd never been so hot and turned on in my entire life.

At last, when our moans had ceased an my heart rate began to slow and her cunt was dry from all my licking and sucking, I collapsed across her body.  She wrapped her arms around me as I burrowed my face between her breasts and sighed.

"Did you have a good first time?" She whispered into my hair.

"Oh yes, I did," I reach up to kiss her lips.

"Maybe we can have a second time soon," she smiled at me, that sexy, crooked smile that I'd just met but felt like I would learn to find familiar.

"Of course," I said back, as I laid my head against her warm body again.

Yes, there would be a second time, a third, and more, I thought to myself as I laid there on top this woman I'd just met 24 hours ago, bare naked and not caring.  Besides, no one was home but us.  And my husband wasn't due back from his business trip for another week.

Yes, there was plenty of time.  And there would plenty more of plenty of times.

"You feel so good," I murmured before I drifted off into a blissful sleep.