Sharon's Journey - Part 7 - Cruising. free porn video

Sharon's Journey Part VII - Cruising By mid-summer, Sharon had settled into the job at the restaurant. Carol Anne's prediction of come-ons from members of both sexes had turned out to be true, and she had found them easy and sometimes fun to reject. She also noticed that of the other girls who dealt with customers, Lola was the most likely to agree while Kimberly was the least likely; Janelle was completely unpredictable. Kimberly was generally the most reserved, and Janelle had teased Sharon her first week there by saying, "Oh, no, you're not going to be another Kimberly!" So she had opened up rather quickly with all of them, and was welcomed into their world. In fact, when things were slow, she was most likely to gravitate toward the bar and chat with Janelle, and when she was on break she would hang out in the kitchen, watch Greta and Christina and learn as much as she could. Business slowed perceptibly, and everyone noticed that Carol Anne was getting edgy. After a particularly bad heat wave broke in the middle of July, things got a little better, but Sharon was convinced that the stress had taken its toll on her boss. One Wednesday night, right after the dinner rush, she noticed that Carol Anne looked very pale and was holding tightly on to the bar. "You okay?" she asked. Carol Anne nodded and waved her away, but Janelle caught it and came right over. "No, you're not," she said. She drew a glass of cold water from the bar and put it down in front of Carol Anne, who did not offer her usual protest. "I'll be all right in a minute," she said. "I just need a minute." "You need to go home, babe," Janelle said. Carol Anne shook her head, but Janelle insisted. "You need to slow up now, or there will be real trouble." Carol Anne again insisted she would be fine, and didn't notice Janelle walking away and picking up a phone next to the cash register behind the bar. "Listen," Sharon said to her. "I'll be fine. I know the way the reservations work, I understand the layout, I've gotten familiar with the regulars and know their quirks - well, most of them, anyway." Janelle returned. "She's right, you know. The best thing you could do would be to take some time off and relax. See a doctor and make sure you don't have any particular problems that need fixing," she said. "No...I'll just sit here a little longer and..." "You called a car, Ma'am?" asked a driver who had just come in the front door. "I called," Janelle replied. "It's for this lady, here. I've written down the address for you, and here's the fare in advance." He took a folded and clipped piece of paper from her. "But I haven't told you what the fare..." he started, but then stopped when he opened and unclipped the paper and two twenty dollar bills fell out. "That will cover it, yes?" Janelle asked. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." "Please make sure she actually gets into the apartment," Janelle added. The driver assured her he would, then gently took Carol Anne's arm and led her outside. Sharon walked with them. Carol Anne rattled off a string of instructions, Sharon assured her everything would be fine, and in a moment she was in the cab and speeding off into the steamy July night. The next morning, Sharon was busy at the computer, writing a short story, when the phone rang. It was Carol Anne. "I'm feeling much better today," she said. "But still poorly enough that I think I will take Janelle's advice and see a doctor. I need you to be at the restaurant full time until I can get back, which means 2:00 until closing every day except Mondays, when we're closed." "Sure, I can handle that." "When you come in on Tuesday, you will meet Leo, my accountant. He comes in to do the payroll for everyone. I've already told him to double your hourly rate while you're doing this..." "Thank you!" Sharon gasped. "Hush. It's not enough. I will work out the rest when I come back as a bonus. In the meantime, you're to get your usual share of the tips." "Thank you very much. I promise you everything will be fine." There was a pause. "I know you will. You're a lovely young woman, and you're very bright. Just one other piece of advice: use your own judgment; don't try to guess what I would do, just do what you think is right. If you're still unsure, talk to Janelle because she's quite bright." Sharon assured her that she would. "One other thing: since you started working with us, you've had your fair share of propositions, yes?" "Um...yeah." "Take advantage of any?" "No!" "You may want to rethink that. You're a creative person - you love writing, you love cooking. You're passionate, so you need to give some vent for that passion." Sharon asked her if she had any specific suggestions to make. "Just whoever you think might really ring your chimes," she said with a devilish chuckle. "She's a smart lady," Janelle said that afternoon when Sharon opened the place. "Probably wants a piece of you herself," Greta added. Sharon laughed at that, and Janelle said no, Carol Anne never fooled around with any of her employees. "I didn't say she would," Greta said with a laugh. "I said she probably wanted to." "And yourself?" Janelle asked. Greta laughed while Sharon blushed. Once everyone had arrived, Sharon gathered them together and told them that Carol Anne would be gone for a few days, maybe a couple of weeks. "I'm the hostess, but we need to work together as a team. Greta, Janelle and Maurice will work with me and we'll make sure everything goes as smoothly as we can make it." As soon as they opened, there were customers, and Sharon found herself falling easily into the routine. The Taylors came in early, as they did each week and Sharon made sure they got their usual table. "Isn't Carol Anne here tonight?" Mrs. Taylor asked with some concern. "No, she's taking a well-deserved break," Sharon replied. "Well-deserved is right," said Mr. Taylor. "She's earned a few weeks in the South of France." And that's how it went the entire evening. All of the regulars asked for Carol Anne, and all wished her the best. Sharon said nothing about her possibly being ill. One aspect of the job that Sharon had not had much experience with arose gradually - dealing with complaints. Her usual response, she decided, would be to give the customer what he or she wanted. It was a little after ten when she ran into her first case where that wouldn't work. The reservation had been for Radcliffe. Mr. Radcliffe turned out to be a very well-dressed businessman who was accompanied by a girl who was making a very great effort to look older. But despite very expensive clothes that were very conservative - tailored skirt, sleeveless silk top, heels, pearls - and a very careful makeup job, the fact remained that she had a very young face. They were seated at one of Kimberly's tables, and she came directly to Sharon after taking their drink order. "You see the girl at 23?" Kimberly asked. "How old do you think that girl is?" "I don't know," Sharon replied. "Why?" "She just ordered a martini." Sharon walked over to Janelle and asked the same question. Janelle walked around to take a look, then came back. "I'd bet about 16, if that. Go talk to her. We have a right to make sure someone is of age. Don't ask for proof, because she'll have it and it will probably look legit." Sharon went back to the table with the glass of single malt scotch that Mr. Radcliffe had ordered, and a diet Coke for the girl. "I ordered a martini," she said in a soft, high voice. "I think you know you have to be twenty one in order to be able to purchase or consume alcohol in New York," Sharon said with a pleasant smile still on her face. "She's of age," Mr. Radcliffe said. "As this will show." He handed her a folded card. When she opened it, there was a $100 bill inside. She glanced down and he smiled without humor. "It says here," Sharon said, "that you're in high school. Only I can't make out if you're a junior or a sophomore." Mr. Radcliffe remained impassive, but the girl looked very uncomfortable. "What's your name, honey?" Sharon asked the girl. "J-Jenna," she said. "I think this has gone far..." Mr, Radcliffe said, but Sharon cut him off by handing the card back to him. "Your drinks are on the house, Mr. Radcliffe. Take your time finishing them, and then please leave. I need the table." "I will not," he said, standing up to confront Sharon. "Mr. Radcliffe, I don't think that is your daughter, and offering to buy her alcohol constitutes endangering the welfare of a child. You may leave peaceably or I will call the police. We can let them sort it all out, if you like." The girl stood and Mr. Radcliffe took her hand and led her out of the restaurant without another word. "I like your style," Janelle said. "There's a drink at the bar any time you want it." "Thanks, but I'll stick with water." That Friday night, Sharon was pleased to see that the late dinner rush had regained some strength as a heat wave that had gripped the city had finally blown out. The streets outside were still drenched from the cooling rain, and the smell of steam rising from blistering sidewalks had finally dissipated, as the last of the rush began to pay their tabs and leave. Shortly before 11:00, a familiar face came through the door. "Hello, Jocelyn," Sharon said. "Late night at the office?" "I was hoping we could talk." Sharon glanced down at the reservations book. Two parties had booked late. "I'm still working, and I'm the only hostess here, so, no, I can't. You know how it is when the job comes first." Jocelyn's expression changed just enough to show that the rebuke stung, but Sharon took no particular pleasure from it. "Can I wait?" "You can sit at the bar, if you like, but I can't promise when I'll be free. We close at one." Jocelyn nodded and walked over to the bar. Sharon returned to her station by the front entrance. A short while later, Janelle came over. "You okay?" she asked. "Fine." Janelle started to say something else, but thought better of it and returned to the bar. The two late parties came in, and Sharon seated them. It looked like things might wind down. There was a commotion outside the entrance, and presently several women, only one of whom, a tall, broad-shouldered woman with her dirty blonde hair pulled back in an unflattering ponytail, was white, poured through the front door. They were led by a woman who immediately struck Sharon as exotically lovely. She stood well over six feet, although she had an assist from a pair of pumps with 5" heels and a half inch platform; these, as well as the extremely short dress she wore, showed off the loveliest legs, smooth but slightly muscular, all the more beautiful because of her complexion, which was the color of cinnamon. She had almond eyes and long, thick straight hair that wasn't quite black, and to which she had added just the barest hint of blonde highlights. "Hi," she said, approaching Sharon. "I'm Renee Jefferson. I think our team's traveling secretary called ahead for a reservation." Sharon had already learned to look before she said anything. "How many?" she asked. "Ten. The whole team." She saw nothing for that many people this late. "But she told me she called it in. It should either be under my name, her name, which is Helen Trent, or the Liberty. And this is the address she gave us. French cuisine, right? We're all dying to try French cuisine." Sharon flashed her most winning smile. "Well, we're not a French Restaurant. We're mostly Northern Italian..." There were some groans from the back. "No, no, not Italian," Sharon said. "Northern Italian is very different - no heavy tomato sauces, virtually no pasta or heavy cheeses. Northern Italian is a style all its own, with some French and German influences." The women arrayed behind Renee looked doubtful, but Sharon could see she had caught her interest. "Normally," she went on, "I couldn't seat a party this large without a reservation. But it's late, and I can not only give you a nice table, I can give you my best server." "I'd have no idea what I was ordering," said the smallest member of the group, a woman who wasn't quite as tall as Sharon. "Eating is an adventure," Sharon replied. Then looking right into Renee's eyes, she added, "Trust me." Sharon turned and led them to a choice table and signaled Maurice to push another against it, making a single large table. She waved Lola over and put her in charge, but when they were ordering, Sharon was there to make suggestions both as to wine and for entrees. She convinced them each to order something different from the others, so they could share and sample, and the dinner turned into wonderful warm celebration. She had come back to the station when Jocelyn appeared at her side. "I'm sorry, but I really can't take time out right now. If you want to talk to me that badly, you just have to wait until later." Jocelyn returned to her place at the bar and ordered another glass of white wine. Lola was about to give the basketball team their check when Sharon asked her to come over. "Give them each a little anisette and tell them it's on the house." She went over to the table herself after the drinks had been served. "So, what did you think?" she asked. Lola had already told her that nothing that had been served had been left uneaten, and that several of the women had raved about the dishes they'd had. "Wonderful!" said the short woman, and Renee laughed. "And if Leila liked it, you know it has to be good. Leila hates everything!" They all laughed. "Are you this sweet to all your customers?" Renee asked. "I try to be." "Well," said another powerfully built woman with pronounced biceps, "I think everything was just excellent." "Do you think we could thank your chef?" Renee asked. "I'll see. But I have to warn you, she's very reluctant to come out of the kitchen." She turned and walked back toward the kitchen, and as she passed the bar, Jocelyn looked at her plaintively. She ignored it. "Greta, dear, your public wants to heap praise upon you," she announced as she entered the kitchen. "Sharon, you know I hate that shit." "Yes, I do, and I wouldn't dream of asking you to bear such a terrible imposition without good reason." Abdullai and Calvin snorted laughter while Christina guffawed out loud. "Sharon, sweetie," Christina added, "the only thing that might get Greta the Grouch to go out and actually talk to customers would be if they were her favorite basketball team." "Bingo!" Sharon sang out, and turned to go. "Wait a minute!" Greta said, running to catch Sharon just at the door. "You mean the Liberty are out there?" "Including the lovely Renee Jefferson herself." Greta followed her through the door and through the bar. "Ladies, this is Greta, our chef, who I believe is as big a fan of you all as you are of her cooking." They paid their bill, leaving $100 in addition to the regular gratuity. Sharon had returned to her station and frowned deeply as she saw Jocelyn approaching once again. The team was leaving and Renee started toward Sharon, but then stopped and waved and mouthed, "Thank you." Everyone else was gone, so the nightly cleanup began. Janelle was counting the till at the bar and Sharon had already done so at the till near her station. She gestured toward a nearby table and she and Jocelyn both sat down. "You look terrific," Jocelyn began. Sharon shrugged. "I just wanted to talk to you. I wanted to tell you how sorry I was." "Okay, so you're sorry." Jocelyn blinked. "What?" Sharon asked. "You think that's all you have to do? Say you're sorry and everything is magically all right? Sorry, it doesn't work that way." "I was just really torqued up about the job, and I wasn't thinking straight. I really miss having you in my life." "I know," Sharon snapped. "Domestic help is so expensive these days. I guess Kate's only willing to serve you at work, not at home." Jocelyn blinked back tears. "Okay. I deserved that." "You deserve a lot worse than that," Sharon said in a low tone, "but I'm not that nasty. "It's fine to be ambitious, Jocelyn, but you let it rule you. And, I have to tell you, when it comes to people, your judgment sucks. Kate de Vries was out to play you from day one. You think she gives a shit whether you make CFO or not? She's only out for what she can get along the way. I don't know which is more disgusting, the fact that she pretended she could be your pipeline to the top or the fact that you believed her." Jocelyn started to argue but stopped herself. "I was just using the information she provided," she said at last. "I never meant for it to become anything else." "But it did. Oh, and I hate to tell you this, but as soon as you don't get the promotion, she's out the door...of your bedroom if not the company," Sharon added. "I'm so sorry," Jocelyn said at last. Sharon shrugged and stood. "Yeah, well, I got a restaurant to close for the night." Jocelyn stood, eyes pleading. "Can I call you sometime?" "Please don't. What's done is done." Saturday morning, Rod was the first one up after Sharon, and was surprised to find her sitting at the dining room table working up some figures. "Income taxes?" he asked. She giggled. "No. I'm just working out some numbers. I figure that before I can move out on my own, I need to have enough for first and last month's rent, some basic furniture, plus six month's disposable income." "Sharon, we're not about to throw you into the street. We're both very comfortable with you here, not to mention all those wonderful dinners you make." She smiled. "Thanks, Rod. And you and George are wonderful roommates. But I feel funny about continuing to mooch off you both, and I really do need to have my own place at some point." He nodded that he understood. "Anyway," she went on, "I think it may be quite some time before I can actually move. Even with the extra that Carol Anne is paying me while she's out, I figure I still need another $10,000 before I can be really comfortable with the move." "Whenever it's right for you, sweetie, it will be right for us." Sunday night, it was nearing closing time. There were only two diners left in the place. Renee came through the door. The dress was longer, almost to her knees, but the heels were almost as high. "Hi!" Sharon said, but her smile faded. "I don't think I can serve you this late." "That's okay. I ate dinner earlier. I just wanted to come back to thank you for making our dinner so lovely the other night. I really wanted to thank you then, but you seemed to have...well, other things to deal with." "Oh, no, that was just my ex." She blushed after she said it. "It's a little complicated," she added. Renee laughed. "Not really. Anyway, I wasn't prying, I just wanted you to know how much we all enjoyed it. And I wanted to know how much I appreciated how welcomed you made us all feel." Sharon gave her a very warm smile. "It really was a pleasure." "Anything to put off talking to the ex," Renee added with a sly grin, and they both laughed. "I saw that you're closed tomorrow, and I was wondering, since I have the day off, too, if you might want to get together and hang out. I only got traded to the team a month ago, and although I have a nice place to live, I don't actually feel like I've gotten to know the city, yet." Sharon allowed that it could take quite some time, considering how large and diverse New York was. "But, if you really want a nice introduction to it and have the whole day to spend, I think I could help you out with that. You know where the police booth is in Times Square? Well, I'll meet you there at 9:00 tomorrow morning." She decided to keep it casual, but she still couldn't resist wearing a skirt - white, with a bright floral print, short but not too short. She wore a pale yellow peasant blouse with it, and white sandals with a little chunky heel. Despite her determination to treat this as any other casual outing, she timed the subways exactly and arrived at the police booth on 43rd Street fifteen minutes early, only to find that Renee was waiting for her. "Have you been waiting long?" "Only a few minutes. I didn't figure the subway very well, and I didn't know how good the service would be from Roosevelt Island. But I kept busy." Sharon gave her a quizzical look. "Three cops hit on me and two kids asked for my autograph." They started walking, first over to 42nd Street and then toward the Hudson. Renee asked where they were going, but all Sharon would tell her was that it was going to be an introduction to the city. And thanks to the fact that they had both been early, they were able to get on to the first cruise of the day around Manhattan Island. "I first did this when I was in fourth grade," Sharon said. "Then not until I was working. But I love this trip and I take it at least once a year." "I bet you were a cutie in fourth grade," Renee said. "Parochial school?" Sharon nodded and Renee's smile grew wider. "Yeah, I can just see it. You in a cute little plaid skirt, white blouse, knee socks and oxfords. Right?" "Something like that," Sharon muttered. It took a while to board. It was going to be a hot day, and a lot of people were looking for the cruise as a way to beat the heat. Sharon suggested they stay out on deck, where they'd get the breeze as well as being able to shift from side to side to see the sights. "It's such a pretty city from out on the water," Renee said as the boat pulled out into the Hudson. For the next three hours, the sights and the historical and popular references drifted by. They started with the Intrepid Air and Sea museum, then the spot in the river where the airliner had landed with no one hurt. They started downriver, seeing the air towers for the Holland tunnel, Hoboken just across the river, the financial district, including the Woolworth Building, the city's oldest skyscraper. The boat fell silent as they passed the site of the World Trade Center, and saw the new tower rising up from the wreckage of the old. And all the while, the guide spun off little comments, adding color and local knowledge along the way. After Battery Park, where the fort around which the original settlement had been built once stood, they proceeded south into Upper New York Bay, passing Castle Garden on Ellis Island, where Sharon explained that her grandmother had once been detained for ten days in a cell from which she could see the Statue of Liberty, and the Statue itself. The boat swung around so everyone could get photos and then moved past Governor's Island and started up the East River, past South Street Seaport and moving under first the Brooklyn Bridge and then the Manhattan Bridge. As they slid under the latter, they could hear the rattle of a subway crossing the bridge. As they moved upriver, passing under the Queensborough Bridge, Sharon noticed Renee staring, not at the architectural wonders on the Manhattan side, but at the neat but rather pedestrian buildings on the slender island in the middle of the river. "That one's mine," Renee said, pointing to a high-rise building situated just north of the bridge. Sharon asked if she had a nice view. "Yes, but not of Manhattan. I have a nice panorama of Queens." "Where I was born and raised," Sharon said. But then she pointed out the Hospital for Special Surgery as the guide began talking about the difficulties that 17th century mariners had had negotiating the waters into which they were headed, which carried the fearsome title of "Hell Gate". They had turned into the Harlem River when Renee turned to Sharon and said, "You don't like to talk about your past much, do you?" Sharon just smiled. The cruise was three hours in all, and Renee thanked Sharon profusely for her suggestion when they were back on land. They stopped for a quick lunch after walking back to Times Square, and then Sharon led Renee to a spot on Seventh Avenue where she bought two tickets for a tour bus. "You've seen the grand view from the water," she said. "Now it's time to get a view from the street." A double-decker bus, open on top, pulled up and they climbed aboard. Since it was a weekday, it wasn't crowded, and they found two seats together on top. "There are three different loops that you can take. This is the Uptown Loop. There is also a Downtown Loop and a Brooklyn Loop." "Are we talking all three?" Renee asked. "We could, but that's a long day, and it's already after noon. I happen to think the Uptown is the best of the three." As the bus made its way up past Columbus Circle, into the Upper West Side, Sharon pointed out the places she personally loved, such as Lincoln Center, and when the Ansonia came into sight, Renee gasped at its beauty. "I live two blocks away from there," Sharon said. After they'd gone past the Dakota, the New York Historical Society, the Museum of Natural History, the Cathedral of St. John the Devine, Columbia University, Barnard College, Riverside Church, Grant's Tomb, the Apollo Theater, Malcolm X Boulevard, Mother Hale's House, the monument to Duke Ellington, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Guggenheim, the Frick Mansion and finally the grand old Plaza Hotel, Renee agreed that it was a wonderful way to pass the afternoon. When the guide announced the next stop as Seventh Avenue and 57th Street, Renee turned to Sharon and said, "I have an idea." They got off the bus, walked the long crosstown block to Sixth Avenue and caught the F train. At the Roosevelt Island stop, Renee nudged Sharon and they got off. Renee's building was only a short walk from the station. It was a tidy one-bedroom apartment, and from the living room window, Sharon could see Long Island sprawling out to the east, the stacks of the Ravenswood power plant standing in the foreground. "Ever watch the sun come up?" she asked. "A couple of times, yeah," Renee replied. As Sharon continued to gaze out the window, Renee came up behind her, gently placed her hands on Sharon's shoulders and kissed her on the back of the head. Sharon immediately stiffened, but Renee was not put off. "Sometimes," she whispered as she gently pulled Sharon's hair back from her right ear, "we need to know that there is softness and beauty and warmth." She ran her tongue slowly up and down the edge of Sharon's ear, careful to avoid the earring. "And sometimes we need them so much we don't realize it, and our chances slip away." She lifted Sharon's hair off her neck and began kissing her neck. She let go of the hair and pressed her kisses more ardently, and she reached around with both hands and cupped both of Sharon's breasts in her hands. Her touch was feathery light, and Sharon closed her eyes, leaned back against Renee and purred. Renee reached under the peasant blouse and fondled Sharon, teasing her nipples through the cups of her bra. Sharon leaned back against Renee, luxuriating in the pressure against the bigger woman's breasts. When she finally turned around, her mouth sought Renee's with such hunger, their tongues immediately swirling around one another, that she didn't even notice that Renee had already shed her top and bra. The peasant blouse was cast aside, as was her bra, and they hungrily sought each other's tongues, bare breasts pressing against bare breasts, erect nipples teasing erect nipples. In a kissing, caressing, stumbling, groping, purring, sighing dance, they made their way to Renee's bedroom. They fell onto the bed, Renee, now completely naked, on top of Sharon, and they took turns kissing, licking and sucking each other's breasts. Renee began kissing up and down Sharon's flat tummy, and Sharon was already whimpering with delight. Renee's tongue seemed to be everywhere at once, licking and teasing her. So aroused was she that it never occurred to her to panic when Renee frantically pulled Sharon's panties down. "Holy shit!!" Sharon froze. She hadn't thought to even hint to Renee about her secret. And now she was too terrified to look at her prospective lover to see what her sudden discovery might portend. And then she realized that she was feeling even more delightfully aroused than before. Her little nub was now the focus of Renee's attentions, the athlete's hyperactive tongue dancing the Watusi over the little head, and before long Sharon was writhing and moaning in pleasure. Renee had turned herself around and her legs were straddling Sharon, so Sharon was able to pull herself slightly up and lick her lover's dripping slit. Renee slid her knees further apart and lowered herself into Sharon's eagerly licking tongue. At the same time, she swirled her tongue around Sharon's little nub, teasing her just to the edge of climax and then stopping. Renee turned around again and lowered herself until she was lying on top of Sharon. She was kissing and licking Sharon's face, moaning with pleasure at the taste of her own juices. But then she lifted herself slightly upward and stopped, gazing down. "Tell me what you want," she said. "I want you." "Tell me what you want me to do." "Make love to me," Sharon whimpered. "Tell me what to do!" It took Sharon a moment. Her nub was almost out of control with arousal. Renee's full, cinnamon colored breasts were dangling tantalizingly in front of her, the nipples dark and rock hard. "Fuck me," Sharon whispered. "What was that?" "Fuck me!" Renee teased Sharon's painfully hard nipples, and Sharon immediately felt the reaction in her little nub. "Renee! Fuck me! Don't tease me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" She reached up and licked a dangling breast, then caught the nipple in her mouth and sucked as hard as she could. Renee let out a little shriek and kissed Sharon deeply on the mouth. She lowered herself down and Sharon's small but hard nub slid into Renee's sopping wet slit, which was already pulsing in orgasm. Renee now straddled her lover, and began rocking back and forth, craving every time Sharon's little nub bumped up against her swollen clit, which was almost as big. Sharon was whimpering, now, begging for more, and now her cries found a counterpoint in Renee's throaty moans of pleasure. Their moans came closer together as they drew closer to cumming. They pressed as hard against one another as they could, until suddenly, crying out in unison, they locked against each other and stopped all movement, squeezing out every ounce of delight as they went over the edge together. It was after dark by the time Sharon got back to the apartment. She checked herself carefully in the large mirror in the lobby. Makeup was fine, skirt and top looked okay, hair was a little wild, but all in all, she thought she had put herself back together nicely. She sighed with contentment as she thought back in the frenetic lovemaking of the afternoon, followed by wonderful soft cuddling and then a restful nap. The conversation after that, after she had showered and dressed and shared a feast of Thai food from Renee's favorite takeout place, had been the most remarkable part of it all. "You needed that," she had said. "And so did I." "I was afraid for a moment..." Renee had snickered at first, then collapsed in gales of laughter. "I must say," she said, "I wasn't expecting that! But I'm glad you didn't try to warn me or prepare me. It just kind of pushed us into a whole new level, and I loved it. I've never made love to a T-girl before; it was incredible." Sharon had never had casual sex before. It had seemed casual the first night with Jocelyn, but had really been much more than that, as it turned out. At first, resting in Renee's protective embrace, she worried about the fact that she didn't love Renee, and yet had enjoyed the most wonderful lovemaking with her. "I really like your romantic side," Renee had said. "It makes you so precious. Sex with someone like that seems kind of taboo, so it's that much more exciting." "I always think that sex with someone you don't really love is a good way to end a friendship. I hope that doesn't happen with us." "You never heard, 'Just for tonight, let's be lovers, then go back to being friends'?" Sharon had smiled, glad that her new friend shared her appreciation of Dave Matthews. "But remember, the name of the song is 'Say Goodbye'." Renee had kissed her. "I only know I love having you as a friend. If we decide to fuck each other again, that's cool, and if not, that's cool, too. And if at some point you find someone who will be the love of your life, no one will be happier for you than me." That seemed fair enough, and Sharon now stepped into the elevator, figuring that she would write a little before turning in. Funny, she thought with a smile as she turned her key in the lock of the door to the apartment, the guys would never know what she had shared that afternoon. "Well!" George said with a grin as she walked into the living room where they were both watching a movie. "Someone's been a very naughty girl today!" To be continued...