I wake up later and she's not there, the clock says 10:45. I get up and slip a robe on and go out in the living room, she's lying nude on the couch with the phone tucked in her shoulder, smiling. She smiles at me.

"When will you be there?" she says to the phone, taking my hand, I sit next to her. She listens for a minute and tells the caller to hang on.

"Want to meet Gretchen?" she asks, winking.

"Sure," I say, and kiss her.

"How long will you be there?" she asks the phone, smiling at me. She listens for a minute, and says "okay, see you in a bit," and hangs up. She kisses me long and hard, her tongue like a smooth warm gerbil trapped in my mouth, and then she caresses my tit, through the robe, and closes her eyes.

"I get to watch you fuck someone else today..." she whispers, all dreamy.

"I get to fuck someone else today?" I ask, kinda surprised. Then I remember, Danielle with the strap-on up her ass, Adam in me later, and I fucked Kani with the big black studded one, and now I get to meet Gretchen and maybe fuck her too?

"I couldn't be happier," I tell my girlfriend, "but I should do you twice, don't you think?" But I can't hear what she says to that 'cause my ears are pressed against her thighs already, my mouth moving for her pussy. And I make her come, one of her soft, whole-body-tenses-up-and-she-whines-a-little orgasms, and she pulls me up and cleans herself off my lips with her own.

And then we shower together, she jacks me off in the hot spray of water, I suck her tits a little, and I think we're not even going to get wherever Gretchen is we keep this up, but a little while later we're dressed and ready to go.

She looks fuckin' fabulous, I think, I picked out her clothes. Tight tight black jeans and short boots with tall heels, a wide leather belt with a big gold buckle, took me a minute to see it was a stylized carving of a guy fucking a chick, (cool clothes, she's got,) and a black backless halter that leaves her stomach bare. Beautiful.

Her chest pokes out in the thin cloth of the halter, her nipple ring making a little bump below her nipple, love it when you can see it. I wanna stay home and undress her, but I want to meet Gretchen, too. She was so cute on the tape.

I dressed myself in a blue print flared skirt, garter and stockings with the line up the back, tall black heels, and stood there for a while trying to decide what top to wear. Kani moved behind me and hefted my tits through the black lace bra I had on, almost convinced me to go just as I was. But I finally found a white shirt, think she wore it the night we met, all puffy and just opaque. She says I look good enough to eat. I invited her to nibble, and she chewed on my earlobe for a minute. God am I horny!

Make a long story short, though, we make it to the bar where Gretchen is without me coming again, barely, and go in to meet her.

It takes me about five seconds to figure out it's a gay bar, mostly women, they're kissing each other and holding hands and all that, and then I see Gretchen, recognize her from Kani's tape, just barely. It's kind of a shock, what with the only time I've ever seen her is naked with her pussy in someone's face, or her tongue licking Kani out, and here -

She's on a barstool, her legs crossed, reading a book by herself. She's wearing a steel grey pantsuit that must have cost as much as my car, silk shirt, black tie, has her hair pulled up hard behind her head in a braid, wrapped in a bun. And she's got thin gold wire frame glasses, little round ones. She looks exactly like an accountant, or a librarian. Weird. She's really cute.

Thin gold chains on her wrist sparkle softly in the light when she puts her hand out to Kani, Kani takes it and squeezes gently, introduces me.

"This is Rachel." Gretchen looks at me and smiles. She doesn't seem like the same girl I watched get eaten by Kani, but I can remember the muscles in her thighs and hips, moving smoothly below her skin as she ground her cunt in my girlfriend's face. And I'm wondering what she tastes like - a quick flash of the back of Kani's head in my mind, pale thighs on either side, Gretchen's face, just barely flushed, in the background. Like Pavlov's dogs, for chrissake, my mouth feels wet. I'm such a slut. I swallow quick.

"Hi," I say, and her voice is so quiet I can barely hear her.

"Nice to meet you." Her tie is flat black, with glossy black threads making figures in the weave. I don't want to seem like I'm staring at her chest, so I don't try to figure out what the pictures are. And for the first time, it strikes me that Gretchen's rich. I mean, really. Kani's got a 'money' quality to her, but with Gretchen it's more like money has qualities of her.

Kani buys us drinks, talks to Gretchen for a few minutes about things they must be interested in - art, some painter that just died. Gretchen seems really smart, like she's a teacher or something. So I ask her what she does.

"I'm in school, right now. I'm not sure what I'm going to do." She looks down at her book, looks sad for a half a second, and looks back at me, smiling like she's tired.

"What about you?" I don't know how to answer that question, but Kani does it for me.

"Rachel's been busy making my lions ache."

It takes me a while to get my face back to it's normal shade, but Gretchen doesn't seem to notice. The comment made her smile, transforming her into a different person for half a second, then she was back to normal. She seems so sad.

"What are you reading?" I ask her, just to keep saying something. She shows me a book of paintings by some guy and asks me what I think.

They're pretty, most of them, but I like the darker ones, the ones with blue and purple in them and say so. She smiles, not like being tired, like being happy. She's so pretty. Not so much cute anymore, but pretty, and I want to make her smile again.

She's talking about art and color and painters, I'm watching her lips move around the words and thinking I really want to kiss her. Kani's gone, off somewhere and I never noticed when she left. So I lean towards Gretchen, just a little, and I can smell her breath all light and minty. Some kind of perfume reminds me of lilacs, and I lean a little closer, and she stops talking and looks right at me.

"...but," she continues, after a long pause, "nobody really considers it post-Impressionist." Her eyes flick away from mine. "Even though it's from the period..." she trails off, her voice so quiet and soft, those lips, and I lean to kiss her.

She lets me, doesn't move. Shit. I tell her I'm sorry and the whole lust-magic thing of the minute before is gone, and she's got that real sad look again, her hands moving to close the book. She straightens her jacket and picks up a thin gold lighter, does nothing with it.

Fuck! I screwed up. And then, she drops the lighter, puts her fingertips on my cheek, waits, closes her eyes, and wow she kisses me, soft and long, great lips. She tastes just like flowers. We hold the kiss for the space of some heartbeats, which I can feel in my throat right where her fingertips have slid. She breaks away and smiles at me.

"Don't be sorry. I like kissing." The smile is gone then, and I absolutely don't know what to think. Dark cloth in the corner of my eye and I flick my eyes right, there's Kani talking to some tit-queen in red spandex pants. She sees me looking and smiles, her right hand moving where I can see it in some motion I know to be dismissal. What? And right then she laughs, and Gretchen talks really quietly to me. Flowers, I can smell flowers.

"Do you think you'd like to have dinner with me?" she says, raising one eyebrow. I look at her, surprised, and blink.

"I mean," she starts, pink on the crowns of her cheeks, "sometime?" She looks at the table, puts her fingers on the back of my hand. Talks really quiet - "I'd like to kiss you again." And she looks up.

I can't keep my eyes on hers - look at Kani again and she winks at me.

"Just a second," I say, and then, my back straightens a little and I say "would you please excuse me for a moment?" She smiles and nods, and I get up, feeling dizzy. What the fuck is going on?

"What's up?" Kani says brightly when I get to her, smiling at me like she did that first night, and I frown at her.

"She just asked me out." And Kani laughs.

"Yeah? You gonna go?"

"I don't know!" I say, 'cause I don't. Kani's smile fades a bit and she whispers in my ear, her lips brushing the skin of my cheek.

"It's the way she is. She must really like you - if she didn't so much she'd just fuck you." She pulls back and kisses me on the lips.

"I'm glad she likes you. Really glad," she says, like she was worried about it and isn't anymore. "Go ahead, doll. Have fun."

"You don't mind?" I ask her, already knowing she doesn't, and not believing it.

"Of course not. Gretchen's pretty close to my favorite person. I'd've died if she didn't think you were great. And if she does..." she trails off, her eyes going past my shoulder.

I turn to look and Gretchen is coming towards us, her books in her arms like a high-schooler, her head coming up to my nose. She smiles in that tired way again, and reaches for my hand.

"Nice to meet you. I've got to be going, though. Have a nice night." And Kani's toe hits me in the ankle. Well, shit. I take Gretchen's hand, small and soft in mine, and look her right in the eyes.

"I'd love to have dinner with you." I say, and watch a subtle change in her smile, just the corners of her lips move, about a millimeter, and she's happy. Her eyes sparkle sky-blue behind gold wire, and her hand squeezes mine. Kani slips her arm around my waist.

Her lips touch my neck, right behind my jaw I could melt and her voice is super-soft in my ear, have fun she says. And then she's gone. Gretchen lets go of my hand, the gold chain on her wrist brushing my fingers. Her lips pinch a little, she's so fucking pretty and she smiles with one side of her mouth.

"Does that mean you're not busy tonight?"

"Um," I start, feeling myself blush, and I fucking giggle. "I suppose so."

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" she asks, and I feel really weird, like I want to get everything right somehow, like I'm meeting this chick's parents or something. Watch my diction and all that. Strange.

"I'd be delighted," I say, and lean to kiss her. She tips her head back, and the tip of her tongue brushes my lower lip when she pulls back, a little shiver in the skin of my ass goes with it. I breathe in a stutter, suddenly nervous, and she says come on and I follow her out. I see Kani talking with a guy who's got to be gay and think of her trying to nail him. That makes me laugh, knowing she probably could, and the grey of Gretchen's suit flashes blood-red under the neon of the front door.

Gretchen doesn't have a car, it turns out, she's got a long black Mercedes limo driven by a guy named Robert. It's all white leather in back, and she looks like she was born to sit easily in it's seats in grey silk suits with her legs crossed at the knee.

Wine and lobster and all that shit could always have made me put out, I'm sure. There's just something really nice about it, like someone's going to a lot of trouble. I don't know. The restaurant she took me to is just fucking impressive, all white linen and gold forks, chandeliers and the whole nine yards, and everyone calls her "Miss Carlyle" and moves quickly around her. There were about ten people in the lounge, waiting for tables, but the maître d' just walks us straight to a table. Wow.

We didn't talk much while we ate, except to whisper about what the fifty-ish couple at the next table must have thought when Gretchen stood and leaned over the table to lick some butter off my chin.

The wine was great, this crystal white stuff that looked like the gold of Gretchen's jewelry, I never liked wine but then I never had this girl staring at me over a glass of it. And, I never had a bottle of it that cost two hundred bucks, either.

"How did you meet Kani?" she asks over dessert, this thing of spongecake and coffee and some kind of cheese. I almost choke, swallow, sip wine, and laugh.

"In a sex shop. She recommended a good dildo," I said, loud enough for the old people to hear. The pretended they weren't listening and Gretchen laughed for the first time, something I'd pay money to hear again.

"Was it?" she says, quieter, taking a cigarette from a flat black box.

"Good? Yeah," I answer, smiling at the gold candle base, remembering that first night at Kani's house, and I put down my wine glass when I remembered how it ended. I was buzzed enough.

"It was great." She looks at the table, back in my eyes. I wanted to fuck her so bad I could taste it. And right then I feel her foot slide up the inside of my calf, two layers of nylon between our skin making it slick as oil. My whole leg quivers, and she starts slowly stroking the insides of my calves with her toe.

"Maybe you could show it to me sometime," she says evenly, her toe moving up to the inside of my knee. Her leg must have bumped the table, my wine rippled a little. I slide forward on my chair, and I feel both her feet on the insides of mine, pushing gently apart. I lean slowly forward, pressing my ribs against the table, tipping my hips forward. I move my feet outward, following hers, until I can feel the tablecloth hem against my legs and my thighs are as wide as I can get them without falling off the front of the chair. My eyes never leave hers, but I want really badly to see if anyone is looking. She takes a slow, carefull drag of her cigarette, and I smile a little, trying to look like Kani does when she wants to eat me up.

"I didn't buy one that night," I say, as her toe draws a line from my knee to where my stocking ends, stopping there, moving back.

"No?" She puts a little pout in her voice, god I like this girl, "That's too bad. You look like you could use it." And I feel strange, just like the first night at Kani's, sorta scared and excited and nervous all at once. I love Kani, I know that, but Gretchen...I gasp when her foot makes a quick trip along my inner thigh, her nylon covered toes against my bare skin, almost all the way to... and then her foot's gone, and she smiles at me. I want to take a huge chance, and the wine helps me do it, so I find myself saying,

"I've got a better idea of what I could use." And her eyes close for a second. She whispers at me, her lips thickening around the words,

"What is that, do you think?"

"Your lips." My voice is barely audible, her eyes are still closed, her lips pouting a little, and she laughs again, lower, in her throat. God am I turned on.

She opens her eyes, two blue slits in cream skin, and says out loud, for the old couple, "Kani told me you might want to fuck me." She smiles, glancing at the next table, where gold forks are held in old hands, poised above their meals. Gretchen continues, raising one eyebrow. "Would you do me a favor, first?"

"Of course," I say, my voice hoarse, god I want her bad and now and she says,

"Take off your bra." I start at that, she sees it, smiles that smile of hers. Then she mouths it again at me, those lips! - 'take off your bra.' When I start to move my legs to get up, her feet trap mine against the floor.

"Right here," she says, and she bites her upper lip. I put that on the list of things I gotta get her to do again. "Take it off." And someone's nervous laugh, probably mine, and I sip my wine with one hand and fiddle with my top button with the other.

"All the way . . .?" I start to ask, and she puts her hand out, palm up, fingers tiny, creamy fingers curved towards the chandelier.

"Give it to me." Her lips formed around the words, hardly any sound at all, I can hear the clink of gold on china and the higher, clearer ring of lead crystal from around me. But her eyes are the only thing I can see, and I unbutton my shirt, one at a time, slowly, with one hand.

I get to the button right by the waistband of the skirt and stop, putting my wine down. I need both hands to unsnap the clip, right between my tits, and I ask her I can't look away from her eyes is anyone watching?

"Everyone's watching." She says, like she's telling me what time it is. And click it unsnaps, fuckin' loud in here, and I stop, feeling the blood rush into my cheeks. She smiles, lights another cigarette. And I let my hands pull the wires out from under my tits, feeling the air hit them, feeling eyes on them, not only hers. A rush of blood goes through me, and she laughs again, god is she pretty.

I move my hands up, fingering my collar, close my eyes. I'm going to look to see who's watching and I don't want to, close my eyes tight and slowly slip the blouse off my left shoulder. Jesusfuckinchrist I can't believe I'm doing this her toe traces a line up the inside of my left calf, I pull my arm from my sleeve, slip the bra strap off my shoulder and I've got a bare tit in the middle of a restaurant, open my eyes to see her blow a stream of smoke, hear a gasp from my left. I slip the shirt back up, forgetting the sleeve, and I have to squirm my arm into it and I know everyone in the place is looking. She's staring right into my eyes, smiling so happy, here blue, blue eyes shining, and I can't stand it anymore and look around.

Nobody's watching. Not one of them. But I can see, here and there, mostly men but a few women too, are not watching. Not like on purpose, looking somewhere else. So I slip the shirt off my other shoulder, the strap, pull the bra out from behind me and dangle it over the table, her hand comes up to take it and I can feel my tits blushing in the cool air, one bare, one covered by the see-thru white of Kani's blouse.

I'm pushing my arm through the sleeve, pulling the shirt back on when I catch the eye of the old guy next to us, so I wink at him. He looks like he's going to have a heart attack. I'm buttoning up my shirt again, one at a time, slowly, feeling the silky cloth against my e-rect nipples, seeing the maître d' looking at our table, he looks like he's going to have a coronary too, and I laugh, nervous as hell, turned on like nothing else and enjoying everything about it. Gretchen's smile as she says "thanks" and folds my bra, putting it in her left coat pocket, stabbing out her cigarette in the ashtray, and I drink a little more wine.

"Cup your right breast in your left hand." Gretchen says, sounding so loud in the room, nobody else is making a sound. Even the clinks and rings of eating are quiet. I do as I'm told, stretching the cloth tight around my tit, feeling it press my nipple in, feeling the earring hard against my areole.

"Stroke your nipple with your other hand," she says, her eyes bright over the rim of her wine glass. I do, of course, feeling the rush of heat in my chest, my stomach muscles tightening against the feeling. And someone's right next to the table. I grin, feeling drunk all of sudden, and keep rubbing my tit. The guy there leans over the table slightly, talks real quietly.

"Ladies?" Gretchen looks up at him, smiling, pressing the ball of her foot against my thigh. The chair creaks a little when my ass clenches against it.

"Yes?" she says slowly, raising one hand to scratch her jaw. I can hear how uncomfortable the dude is when he talks again. I giggle a little, roll my shoulders, clutch my tits in both hands, arching my back into it. He doesn't look.

"May we get you anything else this evening?" She's looking at him, I'm looking at her, and he's not looking at me, and doing a pretty good job of it.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Gretchen asks him, looking back at me, her toes closing over the top of my thigh. "Isn't she sexy?" He wine glass ping's when she puts it down. He steps back, clears his throat. I have got to touch my pussy, so I run my hands down the front of my shirt, pulling it tight against my tits, looking up at him when my hands are at my waist.

"We're just fine, thank you," I say, my voice rough in my throat. He's staring at my chest, looks quickly into my eyes, looks back. Then his back straightens more than it already is and he mumbles something about "very well" and goes away. Poor fucker.

I can't feel that sorry for him, though, 'cause now I'm rubbing my clit through the print skirt and the silk of my panties, and I think I'm gonna come right here before Gretchen presses her foot against my hands.

"Stop," she says, rolling her head and rubbing the back of her neck. I stop, actually whining a little, and do exactly as she tells me to -- pinch my nipples, one at a time and then both (makes me sigh); scratch slowly out from my cleavage with both hands at once, (makes me close my eyes); kiss her on the lips when she leans across the table (and I'm so wet I'm gonna have to pay for this chair.)

"Take off your panties," she tells me next, and my lip quivers for the way she's looking at me. I don't think there's anything I wouldn't do right now, if she asked me to strip nude and lay spread eagle on the floor I'd be right there. Kani's got great friends.

So I pull my skirt up a little at a time, by my hip bones, and I've got my thumbs hooked around the waistband of my panties when someone else is aproaching the table. I stop, Gretchen smiles, and the guy is there, really expensive suit and this real important look about him. I'm so embarrased by him I can't move a muscle. Who the fuck is this guy?

"Miss Carlyle," he says, voice like satin, looking at Gretchen, "Madam," he glances at me, "thank you so much for joining us this evening. We're always happy to have you with us, of course." He smiles, strange smile, like he doesn't smile at all unless he decides to.

"Gretchen," he continues, quieter, and I decide I don't like him at all. He sounds like her father or something. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable elsewhere?" The last word he whispers, leaning towards her. She just winks at me, smiles wider. Then her face gets that sad look, the one she had at the bar, the one that hasn't been there through all of dinner.

"No, Richard," she says, not looking at him, "I'm perfectly comfortable right where I am. If I want my date to undress, and she wants to, that's what's going to happen." Then she looks at him, I still can't move, and says, "If I want to do anything here, that's what's going to happen. Now go away." And he does. She says she's sorry, please continue, and I just start breathing again.

"Who is that?" I manage, my thumbs still hooked around my panties, the cool air against my bare thighs.

"My manager. He's kinda stuffy. Please," she leans forward, "Ignore him. Take them off, Rachel," she whispers, (my manager?), "Give them to me."

So I slide my thumbs down, pulling as far as I can, and I have to move my feet so I can lift up off the chair a little, and I slip the silk off around one leg at a time. I'm trying to be all nonchalant, so I ask her, my voice too bright with wine,

"Do you own this place?"

"Yes," she says, "I hate cooking." She's happy again, that sad look gone from her face like it was never there. She sips some wine. I hold my panties near the edge of the table and she reaches for them, pulling them through the fingers of one hand with the other. She folds them carefully in the air, and puts them in her coat pocket with my bra.

"Jamie runs it for me." She says, after lighting another cigarette. That sounds like a great idea, and she lights mine, too.

"I haven't met her," I tell her, and she smiles, laughing a little.

"You will," she says, looking sideways at her wine glass, like there's something I don't know. "Lick your finger."

It takes me a second to realize what she just said, but I do, and slowly pull my middle finger out of my mouth, seeing it glisten in the light of the chandeliers.

"Slip it in," she instructs, and I'm so turned on I can't stand it anymore, tell her so, but she just giggles a little (oh my god . . .) and I do what she tells me.

I come, a soft, fluttering orgasm a few minutes after she told me to use a third finger to handfuck myself, my other hand kneading my tits through the thin slickness of Kani's shirt. I can't keep my moan as quiet as I want, and knowing other people know I just came makes me come again, even softer, but longer.

And on the way out of the restaurant, which I suddenly remember is called Danielle's, Gretchen's hand is soft and warm on my ass through the cotton of my skirt.