Come Out, Come Out...

Smokey Saga #62: "Come Out, Come Out..."

*****

Here's another lesbian idea suggested by an outside party, in this case a fellow by the handle of PSZer0Dark30. It's a little long, and will take most of it to reach the sex scene, so please do enjoy the rest up till then, and it'll hopefully be worth it. I should also note that if you like my work, and have a lesbian story idea you'd like to see brought to life, feel free to contact me. I love connecting with Readers, and it's never usually very long before I reply. And as always, your feedback's welcomed, valued, and appreciated.

*****

Let's Play Anagrams: The Word Is "Vote"

Friday, November 9th, 2012, 5:41 p.m.

Out of all the individuals in all the diversity of human nature in all the world, they never would have expected it of their own Bridgette.

Every Friday, a group of four friends met to hang out, visit and just generally catch up. All graduates in the same collegiate class, they collectively straddled the line between early and mid-20s. While none had a life-spanning career laid out just yet, three of them worked part- or full-time. And now having moved out of Denmore's dorms, a different three of the four proceeded to set camp back up with their folks, for both security in shelter and familial comfort, while gathering together pieces of their own futures.

In the meanwhile, each member of the quartet found or made time in their late Friday afternoons for food, a few laughs, and social discussion. The ritual originated as a series of biweekly encounters between classmates Emily Conwell and Sam Madden, who shared a history course a few years earlier. They sat in neighboring seats and got a friendship off the ground by helping each other study. Then one day Emily introduced Sam to her dormmate and best friend Bridgette Carter.

Sammy's friend bond with Em was important to him, and he didn't want to do anything to hurt it. But meeting Bridgette challenged him not to fall for her, practically on the spot. Not that this was a new phenomenon to Bridgette (or Emily). Shapely, 5'7", fair-haired and ivory-skinned, with mystifyingly big blue eyes, Bridgette was counted among the exceptionally beautiful. On her own, Emily was considered by many cutely above average, but lacked her B.F.F.'s effortless charm to entrance a gynephile out of his—or her—shoes.

Regardless, single and unattached as he was, again, Sam wanted to hold on to Emily as a buddy. So he drew the line with Bridgette at mere friendship as well. After a while hanging out as a trio, Sam eventually brought onboard a friend of his own. He'd originally met Ian Summers as a teenager, and had reconnected with him after falling out of touch for years. Now he wished to open one of the corners, and turn their triangle of camaraderie into a square. He first "prepped" Ian, explaining to him though one of these two girls was a hot blonde vixen, she was off-limits if their friendship was to remain intact. And then there were four: two boys and two girls.

Little did Sam suppose that once he introduced them, another impact would hit. While he'd agree his pal Ian wasn't half-bad-looking either, to his surprise, when his girl-chum Emily saw Ian, she went silly in the head. Ian was, in fact, exactly the type of man Emily found wildly handsome and sexy. Her eyes practically turned into hearts and jumped right out at him. Like Sam, Emily valued their friendship, but oh, was he devastating. Sam and Bridgette had a feeling something was up when they met, but they knew their suspicion was confirmed when they started hanging out. Emily turned into one flirty bird with Ian around, and giggled like a giddy schoolgirl when he said anything remotely clever or witty—more than once prompting Sam to think, Geez, Em, he's not that funny; calm down! Of course, when Bridgette made the occasional joke, Sammy couldn't deny the urge to compliment her by L.O.L.'ing as well.

When they weren't just relaxing—and/or sleeping over—in their college dorms, they jaunted over to the nearby Rainforest Cafe, a staple in their home state of Minnesota. It had become their favorite restaurant as a foursome. The very first location appeared in Bloomington's monumental Mall of America, and a decade later, another sprouted in Juniper, just a few blocks from the college. It was here they found themselves this crisp, windy autumn Friday.

"Well hey, guys!" greeted a member of wait staff who'd made their acquaintance over the months. "Welcome back!"

They ordered drinks and away went the chat du jour, starting with one of Emily's famous stories.

"Omigod! Okay, so check it out—you are not gonna believe this," said Em, this being the way she began each anecdote. "I was at work the other day."

Sam smacked the table with a palm, sending a small rattle through the flatware.

"No way!" he exclaimed, teasing her prematurely. "You are kidding! Get the heck outta here right now!"

Emily cracked up. "No, wait!" she laughed. "That's not it yet! So I'm at my desk, right? And I look up, and I see Annie and Natalie go by. And I'm, like, just casual, 'Oh, hey, where you guys going?' And they kinda just stop, and're like, 'Uh...nowhere.' And I wasn't even wanting to know what they were up to; I'm just trying to make conversation, y'know, but the way they acted made me curious. So I kinda peeked back behind me to see where they were heading off to, and I see them go in one of the supply closets together.

"So, just kinda the way they go in there, I'm getting real curious now. So I started to sit down to go back to work, but I guess it got the better of me, 'cause next thing I know, I'm heading back there myself, see if I can find out what's going on. And the door's got one of those...whaddaya call it, like, grates on the front, that look like Venetian blinds, or...somethin'—so anyways. I can't really look through it, and I dunno if I wanna go in after 'em just yet, but I kinda turn to the side, to listen, y'know...and I start to hear giggles."

"Really?" asked Ian.

As if on cue, Emily giggled. "I know, right?" she cooed to him, surreptitiously stroking his hand. "So I'm like, 'What the hell?' And I think I can hear them whispering, but I can't decipher any words. But then two seconds later, they open the door."

Her friends' eyebrows jumped.

"And they see me, and they're like—" Emily gasped, imitating her co-workers' mutual gasp upon seeing they'd been caught by her. "And I go, 'What is going on? What're you guys doing in there?' And they're automatically all, 'Nothing! Nothing!' Then I look a little closer at 'em, and I see it. Their hair's messed up. And their lipstick's all smeared and their faces are flushed. And I look down, and their nipples are hard! All four of 'em! I can see 'em, poking right through their shirts!"

"Whoa-ho!" chorused the boys. Bridgette remained silent.

"So I look at 'em and I go, 'Oh my Gooood! You guys were making out!' And at first they try to deny it, like, 'No we weren't!' But they know I got 'em. So then they start going, 'Emmy, please don't tell anybody, we could get in trouble.' And I'm like, 'I won't tell!' Well, y'know, won't tell anyone in the office. But I'm like, 'Wow, this is so cool! How long's this been going on?' Then they got real shy, like, 'Oh, we just kinda fell in love a couple days ago.' And I'm like, 'Aw! That's awesome! But hey, listen, you guys gotta be careful. You try to pull a stunt like that again, someone else might catch you. Like the boss.' But, how cool is that, you guys?! They're in love!"

Sammy and Ian expressed visible approval. Emily's best friend beside her said still nothing.

"Oh, and hey," added Sam. "Speaking of which, we had something kinda cool come up this week, didn't we?"

Bridgette sucked a little too hard on her smoothie and took a small choke, coughing and giving herself a whap in the sternum.

"Whoa, y'okay?" Em clapped her on the back. Bridgette cleared her throat, nodded and threw her pals a thumbs-up.

"Well, Ems," Sammy went on, "Should things take this turn, hopefully we helped make it possible for Ann and Nat to go all the way."

Emily and the boys displayed mutual agreement. Only once they piped down did they notice their lass Bridgette merely went on sipping her smoothie. Eventually, she noticed six eyes turn her way.

"...Bridge?" came her galpal Em's voice.

She closed her teeth on the straw. "Hm?"

"...You were with us on this, right?"

Bridgette sucked a little more, gulped, smacked and licked her lips. "...On...uh, on what again?"

Their faces turned to confusion.

"The gay marriage vote, Bridgette," Ian chimed in. "It popped up on our ballet Tuesday. We all voted no banning it, right?"

"Well, I sure did," said Sam.

"I would've fifty damn years ago," Em concurred.

The next thing Bridgette knew, once again, her friends were upon her.

"...Bridge?..." repeated Emily. "...You...did say no...right?"

Another server made his way by. Eager to escape the subject, Bridgette tried to obtain his attention.

"Waiter? Sir? Could I have some water, please?"

Sammy dropped his glass on the table with a clonk, almost spilling some liquid.

"Oh, my, God," he stated in disbelief. "You said yes...didn't you."

Bridgette stammered slightly, but didn't deny it. And that was all the confirmation they needed.

"Whoa, hold on a sec," said Ian. "You mean the rest of us vetoed the same-sex marriage ban, and you voted for it?"

"Bridge, wh—...what the hell!" exclaimed Em. "You gotta be kidding me! I...I can't believe this! My best friend!"

Bridgette finally threw out a sigh, prepared to admit it now that they'd sniffed her out.

"Well, it's...I'm sorry, but it's just not that simple for me!" she asserted. "I mean...you guys know my Mom! I'm..." Another sigh. "I just...I just can't afford whatever she might do to me if she knew I really wanted to say no. So, so, c'mon, are we ready to order here?"

"Bu—Bridgette!" Emily continued. "How cou—...y—...you're a grown woman! You're 23 years old! You can't just let your crazy-ass mother make your decisions for you your whole life!"

"I'm-I'm sorry, guys!" Bridgette insisted. "I wanted to say no, I really did! But, I...our relationship's already on shaky ground as it is, and she's not real thrilled with my Dad right now either. Besides, I'm back under their roof now. If I went against her like this, I mean, God only knows; she might kick me out, or even disown me. Then what would I do??"

"Oh, Bridges, come on!" snapped Em. "I mean, she's not my Mom, so maybe it's easy for me to say this, but you are selling out your own principles here! You're letting her still influence your decisions and impose her beliefs on you as an adult, and that's wrong! Honestly, Bridge, I'm...I'm really pretty affronted by this! Do you realize that if this ban goes through, you'll be part of the reason??"

"Yeah, and y'know what, Bridgette?" Ian stepped in. "I may not have any right to say this, but if your Mom has these kinda issues with your beliefs, your Dad, and who knows what else...then maybe this is all more like her problem, not yours."

Bridgette stared down at her empty place setting, feeling a bit of shame creeping over her.

"I guess I hadn't really thought about it like that."

"Bridge, all else aside, you're my best friend," Emily reiterated. "Even on the chance your insane Mom did throw your ass to the curb, you know damn well I make more than enough money for me, and my spare bedroom's just sitting there going to waste! God's sake, you could stay with me as long as you wanted!"

"I...I know, you're right!" Bridgette conceded. "You're all right. I just...I'm..."

Sigh. "...I'm out of excuses. I'm sorry."

"All right, guys, all right," Sam said. "Let's cut her a little slack. I mean, clearly, no one's thrilled about this, but...it's done. It's in the past. I'm sure that now if Bridgette could go back and vote the ban down, she would. Right, dudette?...

"...Right, Bridgette?"

Ahem. "Um, waiter?"

*****

Thick'nin' The Plot

Saturday, November 10th, 2012, 12:00 midnight straight up

BOOP-BIP-boop-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-bip-beep-BOOP-boop: ring...ring...click.

"Em?"

"Hey Sammy..."

"Oh, hey, girl, what's up?"

"Well, dude, to be honest, I'm really glad you're still awake...you're not just about to go to bed, are ya?"

"Uh, well...no, not right this second anyway...what's on your mind?"

"Oh, good...well, it's just...you're my best friend beside Bridges, and...I just really need to talk to you about this thing with her. It's just got me actually really upset, even more than I thought."

"Oh, the vote thing? Oh, yeah, that kinda threw me for a loop too...but y'know, at the same time, I kinda feel a little bad for her. It can't be easy on her, being brought up in such a conservative family, and now with such liberal friends."

"You're right, Sammy, I know, you're right, but..." Sigh. "I'm-I'm still so disappointed in her! I mean, she's my best friend, and we all have other gay friends together! Doesn't she care at all about their happiness?? About their future?"

"Well, yeah, that is true. She's usually always right with us on stuff like this."

"Sammy, buddy, I gotta tell you something. I was at Target last week, and I met this chick named Lauren who works there. And we got to talking, and really started to hit it off. Then she told me she was gay."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, so...she's single too, I'm pretty sure. I think she was actually a little disappointed when I told her I wasn't gay...but I said hey, you wanna meet my friends? I told her we're all really liberal, and we love gay people. And I said to her, y'know what? On Tuesday, me and my friends are all gonna vote to give you the right to get married."

"Ohhh...God. I gotcha."

"Yeah...she was really happy to hear that..."

"Aw, Em...I'm sorry, girl."

"I mean, I know Bridgette only voted the one time, like all of us, and it's extremely unlikely her one vote'll sway the whole thing, but...I just...I-I know it sounds kinda dramatic, but, I just feel...betrayed. And I'm not even gay!"

"No, no, Em, I actually think I understand. It's not the vote itself, it's what it means. It's the principle of it. That's not really dramatic, it's just how you feel. And it is a sad thing; like you said, she is your best friend."

"Exactly! That's exactly it, Sammy. You know just how to cut through to the real truth. I always admired that about you."

"Well...thanks. But, Em, this'll be okay. I mean, Bridgette knows how we feel about this now, to say nothing of how strongly. And she won't be under her mother's roof or thumb forever. It's okay if you're mad at her now; we'll move on from it eventually."

"Oh, I'm not mad at her. I'm just...well...kinda...well, maybe a little angry with her."

"...Uh-huh. Well, we could do something to take your mind off it. Wanna hit the bowling alley tomorrow?...Or, uh...today, rather?"

"Yeah! That sounds good. And maybe we could go to the East Moon for lunch. Make a day of it."

"Shoot, why not throw in a movie while we're at it?"

"Omigod! Sammy, dude, I just had the craziest idea. Okay, so check it out, right? I know I said I wasn't mad at Bridgette, but...I dunno, I'm...all of a sudden, I'm kinda feeling like...having a little fun with her. Just to kinda like mess with her mind, and maybe even get her thinking straight again...as it were."

"Oh, I can't wait to hear this."

"Okay, so y'know how I was talking about Lauren, the girl from Target, and how she told me she's a lesbian?"

"Yeah..."

"Well...how do you think Bridgette would feel...if she was in love with a girl...and couldn't get married?"

"...Well, what does that have to do w—...OH...I see..."

"Hee-hee!...Right?? Let's set 'em up together!"

"Well, I mean, Em, that is pretty funny, but, well...seems a little out there, doesn't it? You are still Bridgette's best friend, and I don't wanna spoil the fun, but...you sure that's a good idea?"

"Oh, Sammy, I'm not gonna let it go that far. Nobody's gonna get hurt or anything. And if I know Lauren like the little bit I think I do, she'll get a kick out of it."

"Well, I think you should definitely ask Lauren first."

"Oh, of course! And, Bridges won't have to know; we'll just introduce Lauren to her as our new friend, wind it up and let it go."

"Well...if you're sure it's not gonna backfire, come back and bite us in the butt."

"Trust me, dude."

"A'right."

*****

Pixie Chicks From Pixieland

Friday, November 16th, 2012, 5:56 p.m.

Lauren Marsiglia's Friday shift at Target ended at 4:00, affording her some time to go home and pretty up before heading over to Emily's to meet her friends. Having a couple semi-close friends but certainly room in her life for more, she was excited. She wanted to bring a gift, and wasn't sure what everyone would like, but figured she couldn't go very wrong with chocolate. So she grabbed a generously sized assorted box and made her way to the address Emily'd supplied.

Emily was in the clerical game, a resources consultant who already did pretty well for herself. She kept a modest but comfy one-story on Donaldson Street which she hoped to share one day with a lucky, lucky handsome gent. It was fun having Sammy over, of course, but when he brought Ian along with him, which was pretty much all the time now, Em naturally got extra excited.

Ian, though intelligent and perceptive enough, didn't sense that Emily was infatuated with him. By her coy little touches, caresses, grins—and the way she hugggggged him extra tight whenever they met and parted—and by the occasional peck on the cheek—he had a feeling she was flirty. But he wasn't used to women showing initial interest in him. He noticed she wasn't this blushy or coquettish with Sam, but thought maybe this had something to do with...him being her friend...first? He didn't know. But Em was a sweet, pretty young lady, and if she was into him, his feelings could well grow to be mutual.

He may not have been a model, but Ian reminded Emily an awful lot of a younger Ryan Reynolds. She wasn't proud of the fact that when she thought about him, sometimes an impure scene or two entered her mind, but she kept herself in check. She neither anticipated the fact that Sammy originally fostered a crush on her galpal upon meeting her, but Sam's situation was a bit different, as he gradually trained himself out of it, treating Bridgette as nothing beyond another good friend.

But this evening wasn't much about any of them, thought Em as she retrieved her snack and veggie tray. It was about Lauren, and hopefully welcoming her into the group. Emily'd briefed her beforehand that "this is not a fix-up, Laur, I promise. My friend Bridgette'll be there, and I just wanna introduce you to her and the others. I know her pretty well, and I think deep down inside she's gay too, but she can't admit it to herself because of her Mom and her Christian upbringing. But I promise, you don't have to flirt with her. Unless you want. Anything happens, coolness. But we're not gonna force it. No presh."

She'd also broken the news to Lauren about Bridgette's gay marriage vote. Logically, Lauren was saddened to hear, but Em hastened to add that Bridge hadn't done so of her own free belief. That while Bridgette had a semi-significant relationship with her Dad, it was her mother who really carried influence. She was a hardcore Christian, and raised Bridgette not far behind. Em went on to explain that Bridgette was passive—that while she didn't live and die on the approval of others, it mattered to her nonetheless. That she was under the roof of her parents—including her mother—and needed to maintain a modicum of approval with her. But just hanging out together with their buddies, Bridgette was "free" to be just as liberal as they. While this made Lauren feel a little better, she still felt sorry for Bridgette's home situation, being an adult and a woman of 23 and yet stuck under her Mom's adamant Christian thumb.