That's A Date

The Stare, pt.5

For a few days, Lisa and the girl messaged pretty regularly, carefully skirting round the mutual attraction they'd felt. Lisa was pleased for the girl when she was offered the job, and reminded her once or twice about meeting up. The girl agreed they should, as soon as she'd sorted out leaving her old job and sorted out things with her partner. Lisa offered just a drink, if she ever had a reason to be over her way again before starting the job. The girl said she'd let her know.

They managed to keep it going for a week or two, but Lisa could tell it was going to fizzle out. She was disappointed, but didn't push things: the girl had enough going on in her life.

Nonetheless, she felt her curiosity had been irrevocably piqued by the short time she'd known the girl. She never quite got round to deleting her from her contacts, and felt a twinge of bittersweet pleasure whenever she scrolled past her name or their message history. Occasionally, she'd see a woman in a smart dress and find it attractive, or spot someone in the distance with the same build and hair colour as the girl and feel her heart skip in anticipation for a second or two.

Even so, as time went on, the intensity of her feelings that day receded, the memory of how the girl had got to her became less keen. Until a month or so after that day, when she had two surprising experiences in a short space of time.

The first was on a night out with some friends. She met a guy in one of the bars, a good-looking bloke with a polite manner but a naughty twinkle in his eye, who vaguely reminded her of a grown-up, nicer version of one of her exes. She took him home. Halfway through the inevitable (but rather disappointing) result she tossed her head back and stared at the ceiling, deciding to let him go through the motions until it was over. She wondered idly if the girl ever had this problem, then felt an immediate twinge of pleasure at the thought of the girl. Inadvertently, she fleetingly imagined how it'd feel to have the girl between her legs instead of this man, and felt another twinge of pleasure. Cautiously, she allowed herself to imagine the girl in more and more intimate ways, building up to a detailed, full-blown fantasy of exactly how things would be with the girl. She was surprised how physically rewarding such a fantasy was; it felt a lot more exciting than anything else she'd had for a while. She had to bite her lip and look away as things tipped over, to avoid giving her temporary lover the impression it was down to him. She kicked him out as early the next day as was polite, and was relieved when he failed to call her afterwards.

The second experience was a few days later, as she was heading back to the office after popping out at lunchtime, and found herself walking behind two women office workers. The younger one was about the girl's age and build, but taller and with short dark hair; the black jumper under her jacket was moulded around a similarly fine pair of breasts, and the blue miniskirt made the best of her long legs, helped by some subtly cute heels. Lisa was unexpectedly captivated, unable to tear her gaze away from the sway of the young woman's hips, the slide of her miniskirt across her bum and around her thighs as she walked, the shape of her breasts in her top. The women headed into a bakery to pick up sandwiches, and Lisa made a lust-fuelled decision to follow them. As the younger woman turned slightly in the queue and caught Lisa's eye, Lisa realised she'd been staring. In fact, she'd been so seduced by the sheer physicality of the young woman – the way she walked, the way she carried herself and wore her clothes, the casual sensuality in the way she moved through the world – that she'd quite forgotten any sense of what was appropriate. The young woman glanced over Lisa with disdain and seemed on the point of saying something, but Lisa turned tail and fled. She was too embarrassed at having been discovered indulging her desire to stare at the woman, and too troubled by the way staring at the the young woman made her feel.

That night she texted the girl, asking if she had started her job yet, and whether she wanted that drink. There was no reply.

However, the next morning, the girl was on Lisa's train, for the first time since the day of her interview. She was in the same cute blue dress, and smiled up shyly as Lisa passed the seat. Lisa brought herself up short, turning on her heel and sitting down opposite her. She stared at the girl for a moment or two: she was irritated at the lack of contact; given her recent fantasies, she was not a little intrigued to see the girl again in the dress she'd actively imagined ripping off her; primarily she was relieved and pleased to see the girl again, and have her meet her smile. She leant forward and stared into the girl's eyes. "So. Hi."

"Hi." The girl held her stare, eventually smiling slightly. "I'm sorry, I should've kept in touch." She kept holding Lisa's gaze. "I wanted to."

Lisa stared for a moment longer, then slid her hand onto the girl's thigh, to take the girl's hand where it lay in her lap. "I'm inclined not to let you escape this time."

"OK." The girl was still holding her stare, and smiled. "I'm not going to argue."