When I woke up the next morning, I didn't know where I was at first; in fact, I was downright terrified.
I'd only been out of prison for one day and hadn't gotten used to the concept yet. Prison, for me, was noisy; other women shouting at or fighting with each other, the PA system bellowing announcements and instructions. I actually huddled under the blanket for a few minutes, wondering why (and afraid to find out) it was suddenly so quiet.
And of course, wondering why I was naked.
After a few minutes, I remembered where I was, who I'd been with and what we'd done. I lay in bed for a bit, wondering if I'd dreamt it, but when I sat up, the blankets slid over my sore nipple (I'd really twisted the heck out of it) and I knew it had been real.
I'd kissed, fingered, and gone down on another woman.
The thought bothered me; that wasn't me, not at all. I liked sex as much as anyone, but I was never the type for one night stands and I certainly had never been into other women.
I needed to talk to Angie about it, but I wasn't ready to face her; I was still naked and sticky and wanted to clean up and get dressed before I said anything. Besides, I didn't even know if she was awake yet. I wrapped a towel around myself and eased the door open only to see a surprised Angie, who'd been about to knock on my door with a cup of hot coffee - real, freeze-dried coffee-coffee, not the chickory stuff we got in prison.
"Well!" Angie smiled at me. She was wearing a short, loose summer robe and was barefoot. "And here I was going to sneak in on you!"
"The quiet woke me," I said apologetically. I took the offered cup and took a grateful sip. "Mmm that's good."
Angie laughed; she'd always laughed so easily. "It should be, for what they charge." Then she smiled at me again and let her satin robe slide open a few inches. It was her only clothing at the moment; apparently she'd gone to bed naked too. "I had a wonderful time last night," she whispered, running a finger down my arm.
"Mmm," I replied, under the guise of a mouthful of coffee. I didn't really want to encourage her to go further. "So did I."
"Oh yeah?" giggled Angie. She let her robe fall open a little more and I felt myself blush as my eyes wandered between her legs. "Does that mean you want to go again?"
Yikes. "Oh, I'm such a mess," I replied evasively. Angie looked a little disappointed. "And I really have to pee," I added.
She laughed again when I said that. "Aw, too bad you didn't think of that last night," she purred. "We could have had some more fun."
Wow...THAT went into territory I might have otherwise stayed away from, but I just kind of awkwardly laughed it off.
"Tell you what, Sweetie," Angie continued, shrugging her robe back in place. "You get cleaned up and come find me in the kitchen. I'm going to put on some breakfast, then we'll see what we can get up to." She winked and left.
Oh boy, I could only imagine. I was definitely going to have to have a talk with her.
Even though I knew she was awake, I tiptoed to the bathroom. I'd approach it delicately, I thought while I was in the shower. I didn't want to make it sound like she raped me or anything.
Far from it.
I'd gotten off more the night before than I had in the five years prior and the memory of those toe-curling orgasms gave me butterflies.
But as I washed my hair, I could hardly believe I'd done all that stuff.
Had I become a lesbian?
I thought about it as I washed my hair, but I didn't think so. I knew a handful of gays and lesbians socially, but had a hard time imagining myself in a relationship with another woman and I still adored men, no matter how much my retarded ex fucked me over.
So... maybe I was bisexual?
I thought about that too as I dried off. I guess if I had to hang a label on it, I might be. But there again, I didn't really find women's bodies sexually appealing in and of themselves. I could certainly recognize that a woman was sexy, or imagine myself in her position (if I was, for instance, looking at porn...guilty pleasure), but I didn't have any real girl-on-girl fantasies.
So, what am I? I thought.
I didn't really have an answer to that one, other than old (well...middle aged...), lonely and alone for the most part. I began to feel the beginnings of a mild depression coming, and I angrily shook it off. Life, I thought, is too short for this mental shit.
The small fan was managing to defog the bathroom, and I looked at myself in the mirror. The counter was fairly low, almost at the middle of my thigh, and I could see myself naked from my pussy up. The image gave me an erotic little buzz and I turned this way and that, posing nude for myself.
"Still not bad for an old convict," I murmured to myself.
I decided what had happened was that I'd simply enjoyed myself, immensely and for the first time since I could really remember, chalking it up to alcohol (my dumbass ex-husband was always saying women were three drinks away from being bisexual), lack of sleep and stress. OK, I'd fooled around with a woman I'd had a crush on in prison; big deal. Besides, it had been nice to feel desired by someone (even if that someone had been Angie), and regardless of my personal qualms, it felt sexy and naughty and good, and sometimes feeling good was good enough. I started to pull my own robe on, then looked in the mirror again and gave my reflection an impish smile. Fuck it, I mused. A little more naughty might be fun.
I left the robe in the bathroom and tiptoed nude down the hall towards the kitchen.
Angie was washing a couple of dishes and humming to herself, her back to me. The table was set for breakfast and there was a bowl of strawberries in the center. I plucked one out, stepped silently behind Angie, and reached up to gently lick her ear. She turned her head, surprised, her hand on her ear.
"Good morning," I sang, sucking on the strawberry in what I hoped was a seductive manner.
Angie smiled broadly as she looked me up and down. "You're in a good mood," she laughed.
I smiled. "After last night, I should be."
Angie leered at me. "Hmmm. That sounds like a compliment from someone who isn't into girls." She shrugged and her robe slide off one shoulder, exposing her breast.
My resolve suddenly crumbled and I laughed a little uneasily; this definitely wasn't me. "Well. It was good. What can I say?"
"Say you 're hungry."
"I'm hungry."
Angie twinkled. "Then let's have breakfast and we'll see where the day takes us."
Then I heard the front door open. What the hell?
A sweaty, younger blonde woman in yoga pants and a jog bra walked into the kitchen, looking at the mail. She looked a lot like Angie, with full lips and tangled blonde hair, green eyes and killer body. Her legs were a mile long, ending in a tiny, tight runner's ass. "By the way, I put the...," she began, then stopped in mid-sentence when she saw me standing there.
Eek! I turned beet red and reflexively tried to cover myself with my arms.
The woman looked at me with raised eyebrows for a second. "So, this is who was making all that noise last night," she said. "I picked up your clothes this morning after my run. Cute underwear by the way."
Angie laughed. "Ally, this is my daughter, Mandi. Mandi, this is..."
Mandi waved her off. "I know, you told me. Anyway, all the stuff you two left on the porch is in the washer." Mandi ignored me as I stood there, naked and humiliated, sat down at the table and lit a cigarette. "The electric bill came in, Mom," she said, waving a letter at her. "Are you going to be able to handle it?" Her tone told me that she already knew the answer was no.
Angie blinked. "Didn't we just pay it?"
Mandi sighed. "That was last month, Mom. And I paid it."
Angie looked befuddled. "I didn't think it was due already. I don't know if I have it."
Mandi sighed again. "I'll take care of it," she replied wearily. "But look, I'm not going to be able to keep..."
Angie and Mandi launched into a short discussion about household finances, while I stood there in the "September Morn" crouch. The kitchen was tiny and I was trapped between them. I tried to edge past Angie, turning so I wouldn't rub my against her.
Angie looked at me. "Where you going, Ally?"
Drat. I'd hoped to get away clean. "Look, I'm...really sorry," I began, my face burning. "I didn't know there was anyone else here. I'm just going to go get some clothes on."
Mandi snorted. "Oh just sit down," she said. "It's not like this is the first time there's been a naked woman at this table, right Mom?" She looked at Angie pointedly.
Angie rolled her eyes. "Oh...all right," she said, as though she was just indulging her daughter's whim. She undid the tie of her robe and let it fall to the floor. "There! I'm naked, I'm naked," she sang, doing a little shimmy and bumping me with her hip. "Now you're not alone."
Wow. I knew Angie was kind of a flake, but I hadn't expected THAT level of openness. Mandi had turned her attention to the electric bill and didn't seem to be paying attention, but even with Angie nude too, I felt extremely vulnerable. I'd never been as embarrassed as then and was startled to feel the melty feeling beginning between my legs; why was I turned on?
Angie sat down at the table and lit a cigarette of her own. After a few seconds of standing there alone and watching them, I began to feel even more awkward. I already knew Angie was a bona fide weirdo, and Mandi didn't seem to care, so I sat down. The hell with it; it wasn't like they hadn't already seen my body, and I wanted some breakfast (which was actually a pretty normal, except for the fact that two of us were stark naked). Different strokes for different folks.
"I know!" Angie suddenly exclaimed. "That one guy that keeps calling! He's been wanting an appointment with me forever!"
"Yeah I know," Mandi replied sourly. "He keeps calling ME. You need to pay your phone bill too, Mom. And stop using my number in your ads."
So, Angie was escorting again.
