Resolution Loophole

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Standing in the lobby of the somewhat decrepit Moore Hotel in downtown Seattle, Josie wondered if it was really necessary to rent a hotel room. Sure, it was New Year’s Eve, and sure she had been planning this big night out with her best friends for weeks, but renting a bed seemed like an invitation to trouble. Lately she’d noticed herself getting wilder, more reckless. She had been…impulsive with a few men at work and had promised herself she’d just stick with the girls tonight. In fact, she planned to make a midnight resolution to keep out of supply closets with strange men. Or at least severely limit the frequency. But on New Year’s Eve heavy drinking was practically required, and as the tide of alcohol came in, her best intentions were likely to be swept out to sea. Was a hotel room tempting fate?

No, she had resolve. She had self-control. She had her best friends to keep her in check. In fact, maybe she could get Sarah or Maureen to stay with her, make it a sleep over.

Approaching the counter, she laid down her credit card for a standard room. The desk attendant apologized that the elevator was down and that she would need to take the stairs to the third floor. Josie decided to run up to drop off her overnight bag and freshen up.

The room bordered on shabby but had a few nice antique-y features like a claw foot tub and a leather wrapped headboard that made the bed seem sort of majestic. Larger than the queen size it was supposed to be. Lying down for a second, Josie started up at the water stained ceiling. She saw the shape of an old fashioned telephone and another blob that looked like a tulip. It felt strange to be alone, away from the clamoring of her family. She’d been deep in mommy mode through flu season and felt like a shuttle van driver with all the activities her kids were signed up for. A break, a much needed break from the madness, was finally happening. A night to recapture her sense of self. Hallelujah.

Not a moment later her phone buzzed. It was Maureen.

“Sorry, babe, can’t make it tonight. My husband’s mother just called from the hospital, she’s having chest pains. Dave is going to spend the night with her, so I’m home with the wee ones.”

Josie understood, of course. But it was still a bummer. They vowed to try again next month.

Due to meet Sarah in fifteen, Josie got up to make repairs to her make up after a trot through the rain. She was rocking some new boots — these black, sort of equestrian looking numbers that she paired with some tight black pants. Up top she decided to go glam and switched her oversized sweater for a gold sequined butterfly top that bared one shoulder. She belted it tightly at the smallest part of her waist. Appraising the look in the mirror, she thought it was pretty sharp. Maybe she didn’t look twenty anymore, but at least she could clean up nice occasionally.

The look was completed with a smoky eye and bedroom hair and some pink gloss on her lips. And, to add a touch of class, a silver plastic crown with 2011 spelled across it in pink glitter.

Downstairs she found her friend waiting inside the hotel dive bar. Maybe she shouldn’t have wasted time upstairs, because it seemed like Sarah had gotten a hell of a head start on her at the bar.

“Jo!” Sarah yelled over the jukebox, “Come over here! Meet, wait, was’ your name again?” A tall man with long black hair next to her replied, “Snake oil”.

Sara giggled, her low cut dress barely containing her cleavage. “Thas’ right! But your mama didn’t give you that name. What does your family call you?”

“Usually collect from jail,” the man quipped. Sarah laughed like this was hilarious.

Josie sat down and talked to her friend for a while. The last bastion of single life in the city, Sarah told her that one of the firm partners had taken everyone out for happy hour. Effectively, she’d been celebrating new year’s since three-thirty. “We were at one of those fancy cocktail lounges,” she sneered, “an’ all the execs were trying to get in my pantyhose. I was glad we were comin’ here instead, you know? I like real people who don’t fuck on commission.”

She laughed and laughed, almost knocking herself off her stool. Josie was rapidly seeing her night out go down the tubes. It looked more like she’d be taking care of dear Sarah, instead. Probably cleaning up something disgusting by the time it was all said and done.

Josie thought she might be less annoyed by her friend if she had a few drinks herself and rapidly downed two Long Island Ice Teas. Good stuff, deceptively smooth going down. She went to the restroom and came back to Sarah giving Snake oil a lap dance. She peeled her friend from his leather clad jock and ushered her toward a booth where they would have more privacy. Snake oil glowered at them from across the bar.

“We should invite him over here,” slurred Sarah. “He’s real interesting. Works for the Gates Foundation.”

Josie took in his biker apparel and long black hair that hinted at a Native American ancestry. She also took in the missing tooth and the neck tattoo. “Hmmm, not so sure about that.”

Part mamak escort of her wanted to back off, let Sarah have a fling with the grungy guy if she wanted to. There was something to be said for dirty, drunken sex. On the other hand…there was the girl code to think of. Sarah might be a little lonely tonight, but it was probably because her long term boyfriend had been out of the country for almost two months. At least, she hoped that was why she was intervening. It could be she was just in cock block mode and was forcing it on Sarah, too.

But Sarah was too drunk to make any decisions about her vagina tonight. And soon her wasted friend was blubbering incoherently about her a botched eyebrow wax and the dreadful haircut repercussions. “I like your bangs,” Josie said loyally.

Over a few more Long Island’s, they traded salacious sex stories. Since Sarah was obliterated anyway, Josie even confided her recent shameful behavior with the elevator repair man. Sarah was shocked. And titillated.

Before the clock struck ten, it was clear that Sarah was turning into a pumpkin. Her eyes were drooping and she was listing sideways. Even blowing a paper kazoo in her face repeatedly didn’t snap her out of her trance.

“Do you want to sleep in my room?” she asked her friend, helping her find her coat and umbrella under the table. Sarah, who really was very organized, blearily checked her planner and saw that she had a fireplace cleaning scheduled at her condo in the morning. “I have to be there to let them in.”

Josie summoned a cab and tucked her friend inside. “Thanks for the good time,” she murmured, slipping the cabbie an extra twenty to deposit her friend into the hands of her doorman unscathed.

Oh, jeez, it was so early. She had assumed she would be watching the Space Needle fireworks show with her besties, but that plan had obviously fizzled. Josie found herself considering downloading a book on her Kindle and reading until she felt tired.

But no, that would be pathetic. Surely there was something between a whore and a nun she could aspire to be. She could make her own fun. Strike up a conversation with someone new. She travelled a few blocks into Beltown and found a martini bar.

Usually Josie was a wine girl, but she decided to stick with the hard stuff tonight. She had just plopped down at an open bar stool when the seat next to her swiveled and a nice looking young woman looked at her nervously.

“Are you…Sheila?” she asked tentatively. Her cute little pixie face would not have been out of place in a middle school gymnasium.

“Oh, no. I’m Josie. Sorry, were you saving this seat for someone?”

The woman chewed on her lower lip. “No, not exactly. I thought I was meeting someone, but I guess they didn’t show. She was supposed to be here over an hour ago.”

“That’s lame,” said Josie, feeling uninhibited by her Long Island buzz. “My night didn’t go as planned either, but I’m determined to make it to midnight. We can hang, if you want.”

The woman considered that and smiled a little. “Thanks. I made all these elaborate arrangements for a night out, I’d like to have a little fun.”

“Me, too!” squealed Josie. “Sounds like we are in the exact same boat! It’s fate that we met!”

Soon she and Meg were laughing like old friends. They started drinking blackberry mojitos and shared an appetizer that was hardly recognizable through the fancy garnish. Josie held two radishes carved like roses up to her nipples and batted her eyelashes at a man through the window. He paused, smiled, and moved on.

“Were you flirting with that guy?” Meg asked.

“No. I don’t know. I’ve been kind of sexually insatiable lately. Things turn me on all the sudden that never used to.”

Meg eagerly chimed in, “Oh my God, me too! I was raised ultra conservatively and didn’t really understand what got me hot until last year. When I realized it wasn’t my husband.”

Josie winced, “That’s rough. Still married?”

Meg shook her head, “No. He didn’t want to try the stuff I was interested in. He wanted good old missionary-style baby-making. I decided to cut my losses. Still, even with my freedom, it’s been hard to, you know, initiate.”

Josie figured she’d been lucky. Each of the sexual experiences she’d collected lately had been at the hands of commanding men. All she had to do was submit. Meg looked shy, with light brown shoulder length hair and a slender build. Probably men wouldn’t see her as a candidate for sexual experimentation. Even in her too snug black dress she looked a little uncomfortable.

“Well, liquor and a wing-woman is a good first step,” Josie replied, clinking glasses. “I can be Sheila and help you hook up.”

Meg ducked her head, fumbling with her purse a bit. “Ah, Sheila was the hook-up.”

Surprised, Josie looked at her new friend inquiringly. “Oh, are you gay? Sorry, I didn’t pick up on that. Not that it matters, of course, I’m cool with it.” Oh man, she was babbling. Meg just didn’t give off the lesbian vibe. She seemed like a Sunday school ofise gelen escort teacher, more than anything.

“Oh, I’m not. Not really. Just curious. Bi-curious.” Meg was warming up to the subject, “I guess most people tried it in college, but I was busy trying to please my parents and then my husband. I’m not exactly sure what pleases me.”

“I get that,” assured Josie.

Shy again, Meg glanced at her. “Is this weird? Am I confiding too much?”

“No, this is good. I wonder if this happens to all women, they get a little older and realize that what they want isn’t what they’ve been led to believe. What made you want to experiment with women? Or was this Sheila a special case?”

“Actually, I have no idea what she looks like,” Meg took another sip of her drink and decided to spill the beans. “This is embarrassing…but I actually contacted her through Craigslist. Casual encounters.”

“No WAY,” exclaimed Josie. “Is she a prostitute?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I just wanted to explore a little. There is this woman at work…I’m kind of into her. She’s kind of butch and, I don’t know why, but I’m totally into her. The thing is, she doesn’t want a fling. She wants something long term. But how can I even think about that if I don’t know how I feel about vaginas in general?

“You don’t know how you feel about vaginas?” Josie asked, amused.

“Well, I don’t have much of a relationship with mine. I mean, I clean it, but I’m not really a masturbator. I’ve never touched another woman’s boob, let alone her hoo-ha. So I went online and found flaky Sheila who said she’d be into a little whatever.”

Suddenly, Meg got teary. “It took me weeks to get the courage to go through with it. Maybe I should just scrap the plan. It was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” Josie returned fiercely. “I think it was a very sensible plan. Of course you can’t dive into a lesbian relationship with doing some muff diving ahead of time.” Oh, that was smooth. But Meg wasn’t offended. She laughed.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for the full one experience. I was hoping for some lez101. Maybe just kissing. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

Josie made a decision. “You know what, you can kiss me.” Actually, this was a wonderful resolution loophole.

“You don’t want me to kiss you!” Meg objected. “You’re just taking pity on me.”

“No, really, we should. It’s almost midnight, anyway. I’ve never done anything with a woman, either. All I know is what goes down on youporn, but those aren’t like real women. I flinch every time I think of one of those long fingernails touching me in a tender place. And why do they spit so much? No thanks! But I think kissing another girl, you, would be nice. And maybe we could see where it goes from there.”

As she convinced Meg, she was convincing herself. Her hand was somehow on Meg’s knee, and sliding higher, even as the bar goers around them began to chant: TEN…NINE….EIGHT. By the time the crowd reached three Josie had leaned in and caught Meg in an opened mouth kiss. She sipped at Meg’s mouth briefly before delving deeper into the softness. Rubbing tongues, and then drawing back until their only their breath mingled. She drew back and waited for Meg to make the next move.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, and looking dazed Meg whispered. “New year, new experiences, right? Let’s go back to your hotel room.” She was vibrating with barely leashed excitement.

They ran through the city streets, Josie pulling Meg by the hand. The entered the lobby, shaking the drizzle from their hair. The stairwell was quiet. They climbed quickly until Meg stumbled a little, catching herself against the wall. She leaned back. Her lips parted. Josie figured this was her queue to move in.

Being the aggressor was strange, especially since she’d never considered herself into women. But as soon as their lips touched, Josie knew that her body didn’t discriminate. Kissing a woman was a wholly different experience from making out with a man. Her lips were buoyant, soft. Tasted of Bonnie Bell lip gloss. She let her tongue feather out a little bit; tease the corner of Meg’s parted lips. Dart in. They both moaned.

Soon they were fully engulfed in the kiss, rubbing against each other like attention starved cats. She liked the way Meg smelled and the little huffs of arousal. There were things that were different. Kissing someone shorter than herself, for one thing. And she didn’t know where to put her hands. Josie settled on her hips, pulling them into her. No erection to grind against. She settled for a thigh.

“Almost to my room,” she whispered breathlessly. “Think we can make it?”

They set off again, making it to room 307 at last. The door opened to a dark room. They moved inside and stood uncertainly in the entryway.

“What do we do now?” Meg mused.

“I think we should take our clothes off,” Josie offered decisively.

Meg turned big eyes on her, shining in the moonlight filtering through the light curtains. “Would you be into that? I thought you were otele gelen escort just humoring me.”

“Well, I’m pretty turned on. I was close to dry humping you in the hallway. If we are going to do this, we might as well DO THIS.”

“Yes,” breathed her soon to be lover. She began shrugging out of her outerwear, casting it over the lone chair in the corner of the room. Josie moved to the bathroom and flipped on the light. It was too bright and abrasive, exactly what she didn’t want. But she wanted some illumination, so she partially closed the door and let a line of light spill across the queen bed. Meg was pulling off the comforter and blankets. Apparently there was going to be a lot of writhing, coverings would only get in the way.

“Do you need help with your zipper?”

Meg nodded and Josie came up behind her, braced a hand on her hip, and then used the other to slowly pull the zipper down. No bra. A white vee of smooth back glinted from between the dress halves. They both paused for a moment. Josie wanted this fantasy to be everything her little friend desired, so again she took the lead. She slid her hands into the dress, around her small rib cage, and cupped Meg’s naked breasts from behind.

And, holy shit was it hot. She could feel her nipples puckered against her palms. Small breasts with fairly big tips. She carefully weighed them letting her fingers stroke the undersides without brushing the straining centers. Women were different from men, they knew about anticipation. Leaning forward, Josie pressed her lips against the wing of Meg’s shoulder, sucking and kissing lightly up to her neck. Meg tossed her head to move her wispy hair and Josie took the hint, moving her ministrations to her neck and ear. Meg was squirming already.

Pulling her hands out, Josie tugged on the dress, pulling it down to puddle on the floor. Meg was wearing stockings with a sexy seam up the back and some lacy white panties underneath. Her heart kicked up and she felt her own panties get damp. Still fully clad herself, she rubbed her scratchy shirt against Meg’s back, and then boldly dropped her hand down to Meg’s belly. It rippled. Meg mewled.

“Do you like that?” Josie asked, knowing damn well she did. Her little bird was all but trembling with excitement, body taut as a bow.

“Yes, please, more. Keep going.” Meg begged, voice cracking. Josie obliged, dipping down even further to the front of her panties. She couldn’t see them, but she could feel the small swath of fabric that covered a hot little inferno of a pussy. She ran her fingertips up and down, just lightly. She pressed, she retreated. Meg was panting now.

Josie reluctantly pulled her fingers away, surprised at how sexy she suddenly found Meg’s body. She had more exploring to do before she gave her an orgasm. And she had no qualms about making little Meg scream. She hoped she might get to scream, too.

“Why are you stopping…?” Meg asked in a bewildered voice. Josie didn’t answer, just pulled off her own gold top and tossed it atop Meg’s clothes on the chair.

“I need help with my boots,” she told Meg. Of course she didn’t, but the thought of having a handmaiden kneel at her feet was exciting.

Meg turned around, her body caught in the shaft of light. Her boobs were probably an A cup and would probably have fit perfectly in a martini glass. The nipples that had seemed large from behind were a surprisingly dark red, the size of peperoni slices, with a raised center about the size of a dime. Her torso was short and her legs long and slender. From the neck up she still looked like a kindergarten teacher — face almost make-up less and cute in an impish way. But coupled with the debauched image from the neck down…it was a contrast that Josie found to be a huge turn on.

She sat down on the bed and extended a foot. “Pull, please.”

Meg smiled as she sauntered closer. She surprised Josie by turning around and throwing her leg over Josie’s knees. Bending forward she grabbed the boot by the heel and toe, pulling it off slowly. As she raised the second leg, Josie also settled her hands on Meg’s ass, squeezing her small butt softly as the second boot was removed.

“Want me to take off your pants?” Meg inquired.

“May as well.”

Josie reclined on the bed, feeling Meg’s little fingers skim the waistband of her leggings. She lifted her hips so that they could be slid down, then off entirely. She stretched, letting Meg’s eyes roam her strapless bra and matching underwear clad body. It wasn’t perfect, but being with a woman actually seemed to take the pressure off. She felt more than comfortable with her slightly wide hips and old fashioned fluffy bush. Of course, Meg hadn’t seen that yet. And it seemed like her new friend was focusing her curiosity on Josie’s comparatively large breasts bound by the shiny black band bra.

She licked her lips, uncertain but lusting. As she crawled forward, Josie bent her elbows behind herself an unclasped her own bra. She pulled it away slowly, rolling her shoulders back to better display her large breasts. She liked the contrast in their bodies. She liked the way Meg was looming over her, settling her slim calves outside Josie’s hips. She sat, bumping their panty clad pussies together. But her attention was focused on the hypnotically swaying boobs in front of her. She touched them. Softly, reverently. Then more urgently.

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