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I'm halfway out the door when the phone rings and the machine picks up.

"Freddy Blue!" I hear. "It's Julie. Last night. The band. Call me. 234-8866. I'm going out now, but I'll be in tonight. Later."

I ran for the phone but she had already hung up. I quickly dialed, but she must have been literally out the door because her machine picked up. But it wasn't her voice I heard - it was Dean's. "Yo, yo, yo we're not in." he said, "Leave a message for Dean or Julie or Christie and we'll get back to you. Bu-bye."

I decided not to leave a message, but to try back later. Maybe it was about another gig. Had to be. Couldn't be anything else, right?

I took the IRT uptown and walked through a slight drizzle west to Riverside Drive. Dark clouds were rolling in from the east, and threatened a major downpour. Her building was right near the park, a quiet, residential street with a view of the Hudson. "Nice digs." I thought. She buzzed me up and I entered the charming lobby, one of those old New York buildings with the high ceilings and the floorboard moldings. I took the ancient elevator to the second floor and found her apartment, 2F.

"Hi." she said, opening the door. It was Sunday and she'd been lounging in a pair of sweats and a man's shirt. A half eaten bagel and coffee lunch sat on a Chippendale table, and the remains of Sunday Times lay strewn about the smartly furnished living room. There were no lamps on, and the darkening day threw gray shadows across the walls.

"Been in all day?" I asked.

"Yeah. Hiding." she said, closing the door. "Want a drink?"

"Sure."

She poured me a smooth scotch from a mahogany liquor cabinet. A Gershwin album was playing (an actual 33, spinning on a turntable). Flowers, drinking up the last bit of daylight, bloomed in tasteful vases.

"Sit down." she said, plopping into a paisley chair. I sat on an antique divan, scooting aside the enormous Times Arts section.

"Nice place." I said, sipping my drink.

"Thanks."

We chatted a bit. Her parents had bought her this place years ago. "Bought", you understand, not rented. That means the family had money.

We talked a bit more about the apartment, her parents, the house they had in Denver, and then finally she got to it. "I thought about this long and hard." she said. "I think I want to keep seeing you. Making love to you has been - an experience. And I haven't had a lot of experiences. So I think I want to keep seeing you. And I don't think I'm going to get married. Would you like a bagel or something?"

"Whoa, whoa." I said. "Bonnie, don't throw away a marriage because of some guy you met in a bar."

"I'm not. He doesn't make me feel like you do, that's all."

"And how's that?"

"Let's just say I've had three orgasms in my life -- one alone, and two with you, so you do the math."

We talked some more. Bonnie clearly had a frigidity problem that melted away the other night at the Bitter End. The only other time she felt that uninhibited, was one night when she and some girlfriends went to a U2 concert and she managed to snake a finger under her dress and masturbate herself to orgasm while watching Bono. We both guessed that the crowd had something to do with it to - she was clearly turned on by the possibility of getting caught. "Tony is a very traditional kind of guy," she explained, "and he wouldn't go for anything weird."

"How about just a little different?" I offered. "Have you two ever done it in the kitchen?"

"We haven't even done it in the daytime!" she laughed. "No, Tony's not the kind of man you can talk to about stuff like that. I'd be afraid to ask him. Actually, I'm afraid to ask him anything. I don't want to talk about him. He's coming over here tonight. We had a fight on the phone today. I was trying to tell him I'd like to postpone the wedding and he figured that I was trying to end it, which I was, and we had a fight, and he's on his way in from Long Island, so I really just want to get out of here. Can we go to your place? Look, don't freak out, you might have a girlfriend for all I know. I'm not looking for that, anyway, I just want to be someplace else right now."

There was nothing I wanted more than to take this woman back to my place and, let's face it, fuck her. Even in her sweat pants she looked taught and yummy. But for some reason I found myself saying, "Maybe you should talk to Tony first."

"No, no." she said. "You don't know him. He's huge. Well, you saw him the other night."

Thick-neck. He with the broad shoulders and the cement in his dancing shoes I had figured it was him.

"Are you afraid of him?" I asked.

"Not like that." she said. "He wouldn't hurt me. I wouldn't marry someone like that. He's sweet, really, but he wants things his own way. Like where we're going to live after the wedding. He's in Long Island right now looking at houses, and I don't want a house, I have my job here, my friends, and this apartment. We could live here. But, no he wants me to quit and..."

"Okay, I get it." I said.

She was getting upset.

"Sorry. I'm just panicking. I wish I weren't so - intimidated by him."

Just then the door buzzed.

"Oh my God!" she said. "That's him! Already! He must have done ninety down the L.I.E.! You've got to go!"

"Wait a minute." I said, peeking around the blind out the window. Looking down I saw Tony standing on the stoop, his car parked in front of the building. It was getting late, the clouds covering up the sunset, and a misty rain falling. "Don't let him up." I said.

"What? I have to." she replied.

"Talk to him from here. It's perfect. You're way up here, towering over him. Tell him you want to stay in the city, and that's fucking final."

I could see she like the idea. Something about my being there emboldened her, and she went to the window. She was about to roll the blind up, but I stopped her.

"No." I said, "leave the blind down."

She wasn't sure what I was up to, but went behind the blind to call down to Tony. From his point of view, with her standing in from the of the pulled down blind, he could see her from the chest up, and nothing else in the apartment.

"I want to talk to you!" she said.

"Let me up." he returned.

"No yet. I need to say some things."

"Bonnie, it's raining." he complained.

"Oh, baby, it's not even a drizzle."

"Come on! Let me up!"

I could hear her about to falter. To embolden her further I did something very rude, and very inappropriate. I placed my hand on her ass.

She jumped, not expecting me to do anything like that. (But, then, what else should she have expected? Our relationship wasn't exactly based on the Marquis of Queensbury Rules of Trans-Gender Physical Contact.)

"No!" she said to Tony (and to me, too, I think.)

"So, yo, what's up?" I heard Tony bellow. I had this guy pegged. He was one of them there Guy-Guys who leaked macho out his ears and who gets all "neighborhood" when backed into a corner, or told "no" by his girlfriend. "You got somethin' to say? Say it!" he bellowed.

I rubbed Bonnie's bottom, giving it a couple of pats. She brushed my hands away, annoyed. But it thrilled her, I know, to have this done while Tony watched, and she got suddenly fearless.

"Tony, please, check the 'tude or go the fuck home, okay?" she said.

Tony must have shit a brick. All he could manage was a stunned, "What??"

"Do you want to marry me?" she asked him.

"Well, yeah, sure," said Tony, suddenly on unsure ground.

"Good. Baby, I love you, but we have to decide some things." said Bonnie.

"Like what?"

She faltered again, not sure how to begin. I placed my hand on her bottom. She didn't move it away.

"Like where we're going to live, Ton."

So they argued a bit. Every time Tony got tough or wouldn't listen I would rub Bonnie's ass and thighs, and she would get brave and shoot him down (though nicely -- I was very much getting the impression that she loved this Guy-Guy.).

Tony put up a big fight about where they would live. The Dude had found a house that morning, and was about to buy it when she called him that morning - and he'd already given a down-payment! Bonnie really faltered at that, so I pulled back the band of her sweats and slipped my hand inside, and started squeezing her buns.

"How could you do that!?" she yelled (at him and me, I think).

"What do you mean? It's a great house!" he yelled back. "Goddamnit let me in! I'm getting soaked."

It was getting darker, the storm building, all color from the room fading in the gathering gloom. Bonnie was squirming, unsure about my probing hands, wondering if she should let the poor man in out of the damp.

I took the fondling further. As a stark flash of lightning lit up the room I placed my hand inside her panties, slid it down her ass, and touched a finger to her pussy. Bonnie gasped, grabbed onto the sill more tightly, and leaned further out the window to make sure her bottom was well out of sight. Drops of water spattered on the glass and all over her hair and neck, sending snaking rivulets down her arms, perfuming her skin with the scent of freshly fallen rain. I inhaled her, and inserted a finger up her vagina. As she pushed back, taking my finger whole, I caught a new scent, a lovely, pungent musk wafting from her loins, carried to my nostrils by the misty breeze. I slid my finger onto her button, and pressed. A clap of thunder rattled the window, and she shook with fear and pleasure.

"What's the matter?" said Tony.

I pulled her sweats down to her thighs, knelt down, and kissed her bottom, taking in her smells.

"I..." she began, trying to answer her fiancé while pushing back onto my finger, pressing her panties against my nose.

"What? What is it?" Tony demanded. "What are you pissed about now? Jesus Christ it's going to pour here in a minute!"

The rain was dribbling now off her hair and landing on her panties, soaking her skin. I licked a few water drops off her back, then pulled her panties down, licking the water as I went.

"Oh my God!" she said, digging her fingers deeper into the sill. "Tony will you shut the fuck up about the rain -- it's only water for God's sake!"

I don't think she'd ever spoken to him like that before. But to give the guy credit, he didn't yell back. He took it, and said, "Okay! I'm listening."

I licked my way down her ass, sucking up the rainwater, rolling her panties down and bunching them up around her spread thighs. I could smell her easily now, a deep, musky odor. She was dripping a sticky juice down my arm, which I needed to taste. I delicately placed my nose between her ass cheeks, puckered up my mouth and sucked on her pussy.

"Tony!" she said, louder than she intended. "I'm staying in the city. I'm not saying we have to live here, but we should, it's perfect. And I'm not saying I don't want a house, I do, but right now we're both working, and we both work in town, and why the hell are we moving so fast?"

I swirled around, placing my back against the wall under the window, grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her down onto my face, lapping her up as loudly as I could. Tony couldn't hear all the slurping, but she could.

"Oh my God, that's amazing!" she whispered down to me, trying her best not to hump my face too hard.

(next)

This story was split into 2 parts. Jump to any of the segments from here:
1|2
Note: This story was originally submitted as one long story
and it was only broken into 2 parts for faster page loading.

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