The text message from my dad read, simply, "Mom home early." I knew what it meant. Even with the butterflies in my stomach, I'd have to pull myself together and act normal and natural once I got home.
This was a disappointment - it meant of course that the games my dad and I had begun to play would need to be suspended for a while. On the other hand, after a deep breath and a visit to the restroom where a splash of cold water on my flushed face jolted me into my new situation, I could enjoy the baby shower. I rejoined the women in the living room both relaxed and attentive to the demands of mingling.
"I wanted to say, Kellie," Trisha whispered to me as I slid onto the couch next to her, "you look amazing. You have seriously got yourself in shape, girl. Who's your personal trainer?"
"Actually - it's my dad. He's a coach at E--- University and knows everything about getting fit." Trisha is a very attractive woman, around 30, and the older sister of a friend of mine.
"You were totally beautiful before, of course," she said, "but, I mean, wow. You're toned and just totally glowing, too, totally confident. I'd pay for those results!" She made a show of eyeing me up and down and I smiled at the double meaning of her words.
Trisha was curvy, which made her endearingly self-deprecating, humble, and even a little unconfident -- though all of that made me find her even more magnetic. It felt like, if she did go for women, I could make her feel sexy and beautiful with my attention. Her face, though wide, with an angular jaw she was self-conscious of, was a display of perfect skin. Her cheekbones were subtle but gave her the impression of always grinning slightly, making her approachable. But it was the dark eyes and darker tangle of thick, hip-length hair that left you with the impression that there was a bubble of hot poison deep inside her wanting to be let out, if only it could be coaxed properly.
"I could certainly introduce you," I slid a hand on her knee, peeking out of her light blue silk skirt, "to my personal trainer. I'll want a commission, though." She knew I was a lesbian, and I wondered what she thought of my remark.
In any case, we laughed and the hostess announced the start of various baby shower games. I enjoyed myself thoroughly and felt myself regain an assertiveness I hadn't had in years. My physical fitness was part of it, but, I then realized, the energy beneath my feet came from the happiness that sheer, amazing sex gives you.
I felt attractive and even felt like one of the women I didn't know was flirting with me. She was the supervisor of the pregnant star of the party, and she was in her late thirties. Her name was Hedda, which immediately put in my mind the Ibsen play. She was somewhat tall, with a wiry frame, short-bobbed blonde hair, and ice-blue eyes. She said funny or ironic things without smiling, while staring right into your eyes, which made her hard to read.
She repeatedly complimented my hair. Once, during a game that was kind of like team Mad Libs, when called upon to insert a noun into the text, she had used "sexy redhead." Later, while we passed around champagne and listened to music, she gave me her card, "in case you were looking for some experience," and chatted me up.
We had been talking about my work interests when she said, in an abrupt change of subject, "Your hair coloring is just mesmerizing - Lisa tells me it's all natural?" (Lisa was a long-time friend of mine, also at the party.)
I gulped nervously. "Y-yes, all natural. It changes shade sometimes on its own, depending on I don't know what exactly."
She nodded and looked at me. Sipped her drink. "Depending on whether your having fun, or feeling sad, or bored, or aroused, or like that. Like a mood ring. That's what I think," she said.
Was it just me or had she snuck the word "aroused" in there to test my reaction? She wouldn't have known I was into girls - and since I'm both very feminine and tend toward being a little shy, I didn't think people would really guess.
"Well," I said, "this isn't fair, since when we meet again you'll be able to tell what mood I'm in."
We chatted a while longer when she said that she had to duck out of the party early. She hugged me with a little kiss on the cheek, and made me promise to contact her. After she left, I delicately asked Lisa what Hedda's husband did for a living, to learn that she had been separated for two years after she'd found him cheating. "At the time, she was such a mess. She'd wanted a child so badly and now felt like it would never happen."
I couldn't get Hedda out of my mind for the rest of the shower. Mainly, I thought about how I would comfort her - by running my hands all over her body, caressing her lithe hips as I brought them to my face, so I could wetly kiss her upper thighs, her tummy, her hair. It got to where I had trouble focusing attention on the party, and I felt relief when it was time to go.
Once I got back home, I found Mom and Dad in the kitchen making dinner. I inhaled deeply as I saw my dad's hunched over the sink, peeling carrots. When Mom hugged me, I hoped she could feel the nervous excitement that felt like a current running through my body. I knew at that moment that I'd have to have my Daddy inside me again, soon, and even though Mom was home unexpectedly, we'd have to find a way.
Dinner was fine, and I think I acted focused on my Mom's nonstop blathering about her job without her noticing that I was too distracted. Granted, once, she did ask me if I was listening, and another time, I asked her a question about something she had just explained -- both times, my mind was vividly imaging my Daddy's cock slipping in and out of my mouth as his hands clutched my hair and I fingered my wet pussy with one hand and cupped his balls with the other.