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|On The Journey Home (ff:first time, 8273 words)|
|Author: Otazel||Added: May 17 2014||Views/Reads: 5276/4440 [84%]||Story vote: 9.38 (24 votes)|
|A woman is picked up in a cafe and has her first lesbian experience.|
ON THE JOURNEY HOME. I suppose I couldn't really claim to be the innocent party that night, because subconsciously I knew exactly what I was doing even if I just let things happen. I was on my way home after being away on business and I'd pulled into one of those late night places that serve lukewarm coffee and burgers that seem to be made of a cross between carpet and cardboard. At the time I wasn't sure why I'd stopped because I only had another thirty or forty miles to go, but I figured later that it was because I just didn't want to face going home. The reason for that was that I was pretty certain my husband was cheating on me, and so I'd told him I'd be away for a couple of days longer than I actually expected to be, with the intention of catching him in the act when I got home unexpectedly early. But in reality I was scared of the truth, petrified that I was right and he'd be in our matrimonial bed with another woman, and so I was putting off the inevitable confrontation. Yeah, I know, cowardly isn't it? You'd think that a thirty-four year old business woman who was used to facing down highflying men in their own boardroom would be able to cope with a cheating spouse in her own bedroom wouldn't you, but that's the way it was. And so there I sat, head down, a soulful look on my face, gazing into my muddy coffee and wondering what to do next. ‘Are you all right?' The voice brought me out of my gloomy reverie and back into the real world with a bump. I looked up and gazed around, startled. ‘Are you okay?' The voice repeated. It came from the next table across, where a smart blonde woman in a blue summer dress was staring across at me and looking very concerned. ‘Yes, I'm fine.' I assured her. ‘Just miles away in thought.' ‘You looked worried to death.' ‘A few things on my mind, that's all.' She slid across and came to sit opposite me, still wearing a mother hen look. She was a few years older than me and probably for that reason her action seemed to show genuine concern rather than nosiness. ‘Anything I can do?' She said. ‘I'm good at listening if nothing else.' ‘Just marital problems.' I told her, glad of someone to talk to, but not wanting to go into too many details. ‘Being married isn't always easy.' ‘Sometimes I'm glad I'm single,' She told me with a smile, raising a ring-free finger to show me. ‘Sometimes I wish I was.' She seemed to understand that it would be a good time to change the subject. ‘I'm Celia, by the way. What brings you this way anyway?' ‘Barbara, or Babs when I'm not working.' I introduced myself. ‘I've been away on business, now I'm on my way home and don't really want to be.' ‘Oh dear, things must be really bad if this place is preferable.' She swept a hand around to indicate our shabby surroundings. ‘But then I suppose any place is better then somewhere you don't want to be.' Her perceptive remark had me nodding in agreement and I was soon able to relax a little. Before long we were chatting about life in general and nothing in particular and I found that I enjoyed her company, so much so that the time slipped past without my noticing. Or maybe I was noticing it but my mind was pretending not to. In any case it wasn't until the waitress came over to say that they were closing that I was made properly aware of how late it was.
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