This story is a slow burn, so if you are looking for a story to fulfil a need, this may not be it. It is a story based in facts, with a healthy dose of fiction and a generous amount of fantasy. It is up to the reader to tell the difference. All of the participants are over 18.
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I have been asked to explain what a Beat is? In Australia, the term beat is used to refer to an area frequented by gay men, where sexual acts occur, almost always anonymously. I’d like to acknowledge the help I got from Rockahula for his editing, and guidance, not only with this story but some of my other works and of the sweet Pixieoff, for her genuine encouragement and general hints. I strongly recommend you read some of her stories and visit her in the chat room called Emily’s Escorts.
Mary Elizabeth Haughton was 46 when she decided to go looking for that something she knew was missing in her life. Not unhappily married, but unfulfilled. Contented would describe her state of being. A common enough story. Semi adult children who no longer rely on their mum, except when they want the car or money. To describe herself she would say she was very ordinary, nothing outstanding about her. But in fact she had a pretty face, in her youth she would have been described as gorgeously stunning, by most men. She had shoulder length red hair, thinning and with a hint of grey around the edges. Like most women her age, she carried a few extra kilos, not overweight but not her slim self she once was. her skin was fair and her freckles across her nose was one of many features that stood out. Her bosoms were still firm but gravity was starting to take charge. She had long slender fingers that any pianist would be proud of, not that she played. Humming was her sole musical talent. She still had a waist line and generous hips, her backside was of a fullish nature. Her legs were long and firm, not an athlete by any stretch of the imagination, but as she still walked daily, rather than drive, it was very helpful and kept her healthy. And of course helped to keep her in shape.
She had been in some the chat rooms of various sites, a bit of fun, some saucy encounters that had left her needing to scratch after an itch had been activated by others. You know what I mean.
It was after one of these general discussions, in the Lit Lesbian chat room about where a curious woman could go, discretely, that sparked her into actually seeing if all the chatter was fake and fiction, a bit of fantasy or whether in fact it was true. She had no idea where to start. She didn’t know of any lesbians, well not that she was aware of, and none of her close friends were. So no one she was close to, to actually sit down with and ask. This was going to have to be done on her own if she was going to do it at all.
The toing and froing went on for weeks, yes she was, then no she wasn’t. The turmoil in her mind was both a preoccupation and a distraction. So much so even Paul her husband commented a couple of times,
“you seemed to be away with the Pixies of late, what’s on your mind?” a smile and a shake of the head usually put to rest any half hearted attempts to ‘talk about it’.
Finally after another session online and a wonderful discussion with a woman called Monica69, and the need to scratch a big itch, her mind was made up. She had to do this. If for no other reason just to prove it to herself. Was it all fantasy and fiction and there was no such thing as a beat for gay women or as in her case an extremely curious bi middle aged, mother of 3 who wanted to try but still hold on to her life.
Where to start she thought. Maybe go to a gay focused club or café. Sure but how to find them. Never having ventured into their world, where to find these places? Google of course. with her hands shaking, she slowly typed in ‘lesbian clubs in Adelaide’, not that many thank god, she thought, and all in the CBD and all closed during the day, opening at 9pm mostly. Great she thought, well that ends that. As she started to scroll down the page, a sign came up the Mylk Bar, open during the day and closed at night. She wondered to herself. And thought, why not, go out for a lunch date, albeit on her own, but it might help her to become accustomed to actually getting off her backside and actually doing something positive about it. She set her herself a target date, took a deep breath and wrote down the address and phone number. She put the note pad to one side and stated on making up her grocery list, then after one word, she slammed the pencil down and looked at the the phone number again. What harm would it do? What’s the worse that could happen? All it was she explained to herself was a simple lunch, good grief how many times have I been out to lunch on her own these past few years. It is no big deal, why did she have to justify it to herself. She knew why, of course. She was so confused.
She picked up her mobile and dialed the number, and waited while it rang, and rang and rang…….my god why is it taking so long to answer she thought. Just as she was about to hang up and give it a miss, a very sweet voice answered the phone,
“The Mylk Bar, how may I help you.” She took short break before she answered
“Oh sorry I was day dreaming” she lied, “Can I make a booking for one please.”
“Of course you can, what day?” Mary hesitated, not sure, so answered quickly with out thinking, “Next Wednesday.”
“Let me check, Wednesdays are always busy for single ladies.” The sweet voice said and then promptly answered “That’s no problem and what name is it?”
“Mary Haughton” came the quick response “OK Mary, and what times suits you?”
“Would 12:30 be ok?” She asked.
“Of course it is and that’s confirmed then Mary, 12:30 next Wednesday the 27th for one. Done, we’ll see you there then.”
“Thank you” Mary nervously replied. She hung up the phone and looked at her shaking hand. Not realizing just how nervous she was. Oh My God, what have I done she thought to herself. She took a deep breath, several in fact. I need to do this, for no other reason than to see how it makes me feel. A weak smile came to her lips as she went about her daily boring routine.
Wednesday the 27th came around quickly, and the closer it got the more nervous she became. Each time she thought about cancelling, which was often, she convinced herself, it was only a lunch, nothing more. OK so it was at an out of the way gay bar, but she could always claim she didn’t know it was, that is of course if she was seen. Which was highly unlikely, she had checked where it was, both in the street directory as well as on google maps, and she knew she could park the car in a ‘ParknShop’ multi level car park close by. A short walk and by her own calculations. No more than than a 30 minute drive to the city, another 15 minutes to get into the car park and a 5 minute walk to the bar. So if she left herself an hour, she should be OK. Mary decided that allowing herself an extra 30 minutes just in case, should be ample enough time.
Wednesday morning came around, and as if nothing was going on, she got the breakfast hour out of the way, sending the kids off and last but not least getting hubby off with his packed Wednesday lunch, same as she had always done. As she heard the car leave the driveway, she sat at the kitchen table and looked at the clock, once again. 8:17 talk about routine she said to herself. She could just about set all of the clocks in her house by their morning routines. But today she thought, today is different, I am going to try something new. I think. She sighed as she finished her morning coffee, and wrapped her head in her hands, Am I doing the right thing, these blasted doubts, always chasing her. No she thought, as she stood up and placed the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, went to take one last mouthful of her coffee, only to find her cup already empty. She smiled to herself and said “bloody hell, I could of done with one more mouthful”. She started to think about what to wear, something stylish but not overtly sexy, after all it isn’t a date, she is just checking the place out.
Mary decided on a plain cream blouse, buttoned up the front, her black denim jeans, which she could just squeeze into, she made another mental note, I must lose some weight, her black boots, but what about underneath. She laughed at the thought that anyone was going to see her underwear, so her normal cotton panties and a plain bra. Nothing sexy at all, no need she kept reminding herself, nothing is going to happen. Jumping into the shower, she washed slowly, the warm water washed over her ample bosoms and down between her legs. She took her razor from the soap dish and tidied up her loose ends, trimming it here and there. No harm she thought to herself, it needed doing. Not that Paul would notice. She dried, and looked into the full length mirror, and reminding herself for the thousand time, I really do need to lose some weight. She pushed her boobs up, and thought maybe a pushup bra one day, hhhhmmmm and then a deep sigh. Yeah one day. She dressed quickly looking at the clock, she was both excited and nervous. Its only lunch she kept saying to herself, nothing is going to happen. Dabbing some perfume on her wrists and a touch behind each ear, as she looked down into her cleavage and said out loud, “why not” and let a single droplet run down between them. She was ready.
The drive into the city was easy this time of the day and being a Wednesday the traffic was light, and for some reason she got all the green lights so instead of taking the estimated 30 minutes, she was queuing up to park well within the time she thought she needed. By the time she had parked the car and heading down in the lift to the ground floor she still had a good 20 minutes on her hands. She dawdled and window shopped, catching glimpses of people going by in the reflection of the windows, smiling happy people she thought. as she approached the bar, still early, but what the heck, she could grab a drink if she had too. As she nervously entered the Mylk Bar. Her eyes adjusted to the the warm soft lighting effect, very French she thought of the décor as she waited to be seated. A very camp looking young man approached her and asked if she had a booking as they were already booked out. Mary smiled and replied she did and gave him her name. His very thin index finger ran down the list of names
“Oh yes Ms Haughton, your table will be ready shortly,” he raised his arm and with a flick oh his limp wrist waved over a waitress,
“Evie, please show Ms Haughton to table 24 when it is ready” I smiled and began to move off after the waitress, who had scurried off in the direction of a very discrete corner of the dining room, but was stopped and was caught by a slight touch on my elbow,
“Perhaps Madam would care for a drink at the bar while we get her table ready?”
She was unsure what to say or do, as the young man took her by the elbow and escorted her to a high stool situated at the bar, as he waved to the barman, a tall, dark and rather handsome young man stood before her, the maître d’ spoke in a warm sweet voice,
“Rupert darling, please help Ms Haughton until her table is ready, a drink on the house as well, if you don’t mind”.
The maître d’ then gave a slight bow and went off to attend more guests as they entered the bar. The barman nodded and smiled,
“What may I get you Madam.”
“Oh, just a glass of wine please.”
“Anything in particular” she was asked
“Something local, I think, a white please.”
He quickly poured a tall glass of bubbling champagne, winked at her and said in a hushed voice,
“Why not go the expensive route, it is on the house after all”. As he place the glass in front of her. Wow she thought to her self, champagne in the middle of the day, how very decadent of you Mary Elizabeth. No sooner had she taken a sip when the waitress Evie appeared at her side, smiling sweetly,
“If you would accompany me Madam, I’ll escort you to your table.” She followed the young woman, and couldn’t help but look at her backside swaying with each step she took. Mary blushed, her heart raced for a split second and felt self conscious and wondered if anyone had noticed her looking at the waitress in such ways.
The table was situated in a large bay window, over looking a small courtyard garden, her table was just large enough for a single person. She took her seat and felt the waitresses hand on the back of the chair, she looked up and smiled as the chair was shifted in for her. A lunchtime menu was produced with a quick flick of the wrist, that is when Mary noticed the little rainbow on the inside of the waitresses wrist, She commented to her.
“I like that, how very discrete and informative”. The waitress smiled and thanked her before saying
“My wife gave it to me for my birthday last week, you are the first person to notice it and comment, thank you Ms Haughton”,
“Please call me Mary, Mrs Haughton makes me feel so old.”
“Thank you Madam, I am Evie.” she said with just a hint of a French accent, most likely put on to fit in with the décor. “Hmm may I ask if this is Mary’s first visit, to the Mylk Bar?”
Mary smiled as she nodded, “Is it that obvious” Evie smiled and gave a small nod as she raised her eye brows.
“Fear not Mary, there are no predators here, they will come later.” Mary looked over the Menu, it was all in French, with some small English translations to go with each item. The waitress could see that Mary was having trouble with the menu, She lent in, her top which was a loose fitting would give anyone who cared to look a clear view of her braless chest. Mary didn’t seize the opportunity.
“Mary, if I may suggest, a soup to start with, of course, Soupe à l’oignon, then a very simple main course, nothing too filling, maybe a Flamiche and to finish it all off Tarte Tatin. I will arrange for the appropriate wine with each course for Madam.” Mary was in a daze, what on earth has she just ordered. She smiled weakly and looked up at Evie with a mystified look on her face. Evie bent down once again, this time facing Mary to ensure she was on full display. Mary looked, in fact she stared, her heart skipped a beat once again, before asking in a stumbling way.
“What am I having for lunch?” Evie smiled and looked around, before placing a hand on Mary’s arm,
“French onion soup, with a crusty bread and grated cheese, followed by a cheese and vegetables quiche and then to finish off a beautiful tasty apple pie. sssshhhhh I think you will enjoy your meal”
The meal, she was informed, would take a short while which gave Mary time to finish her champagne and take in the other customers. A lot of women, eating alone, and many at the bar, leaning back, chatting to others close by, a lot of smiles and PDA, hugging and kissing, some only pecks on cheeks and some rather hot embraces and very passionate kisses. So this is how the gay community behave she thought to herself. She felt comfortable, not too worried at all. as she looked around, she caught several women looking at her, a couple of them eating alone, smiled nervously at her and one or two at the bar, looked at her while talking to their companions. Mary felt as if she was on show some how. As if all the women eating alone had signs written all over them. Single Female, novice, seeking a teacher. All of a sudden she felt self conscious, blushed and looked away from the women, and stared out the window into the garden. She wondered if she had done or was doing the right thing. She decided, she would just eat her lunch, and leave. No harm done. She had succeeded in what she set out to do, check the place out. She was sure now, that this beat thing was all fantasy, made up by someone with nothing better to do. She smiled to herself and wondered how she of been so silly and taken in by it all.
She sensed movement at her table and she turned and looked up to find someone clearing their throat, “Errrhum,” A tall woman, thin, broad shouldered, smartly dressed, a white shirt, a tie, a pale red, no not pink but not a bright red either, it was, well just a pale red. Jeans held up by a solid belt. She held out her hand, “sorry to intrude, but I couldn’t help but notice you.” Mary looked around the room at all the other tables, many of them were eating and many more were engaged in conversation with those women, who were just a short while ago, standing at the bar, checking out the lunchtime customers. Like some imaginary gun had gone off and the starters at the bar had commenced their stalking of the prey. The prey that were innocently grazing at their lunch time meals. She looked at the hand, and smiled as she took it and gave it a slight shake, but the grip was firm and sure and the hand wasn’t letting her go,
“My name is Erica, Erica Marsden.” Mary kept smiling and felt a little shudder at such a ‘handsome’ woman. Her face was aged, but not old, lines showed that she was no longer in her prime, but still not haggard. Her hair was short with hints of grey, contoured on the sides but well kept, naturally grey, no colours in there, that could be seen at first glance. Was she tall because she was standing while Mary was sitting, and just slim because Mary wasn’t? She looked into Erica’s eyes, locked there for what seemed like an eternity but wasn’t for more than a few seconds, her eyes held her gaze, warm smiling eyes, confident, strong, hazel eyes. Those eyes that said I know who I am and I am happy.
“Hi Erica, I’m Mary” The confidence that was there a second ago was now replaced with a slight sense of uncertainty. Erica’s second hand came up and clasped Mary’s hand, engulfing it, not letting it go. Strong hands, everything about Erica Marsden said, I am here and I am in charge. Her body language told the world, she was a strong confident woman, who got what she wanted.
“May I sit down?” It wasn’t so much of a question but more like a statement. Mary was still looking into those strong hazel eyes, her hand still held firmly and before she could answer, Erica had signaled to Evie for a chair. She sat at the small table, still holding onto Mary’s hand. Evie stood there waiting for an order.
“Evie, sweetie, please make sure my booth is prepared for two please. this setting is a little cramped”.
“yes ma’am” a small quick curtsey and she was off in the direction towards the rear.
“I hope you don’t mind Mary, I think a setting in keeping with your shyness, so you can relax a bit away from the madding crowd”. Mary smiled awkwardly
“What makes you think I’m shy Erica?” she asked
“I think you are a little shy, a touch nervous, or you appear so. I think it is your first visit to the Mylk Bar. I also think you are extremely attractive. So why not join me for lunch, somewhere away from the ‘vultures’ out here”. Mary looked around the room and almost all of the ladies that were on their own now seemed to be chatting busily away with various women and girls. While there were still a lot of women standing at the bar eyeing the situation. Indeed like vultures circling a dead or dying carcass.
“Ok I think I will join you, that would be nice, thank you. And for your information I am not shy or nervous at all, but you are right it is my first time in a gay place,”
Erica held out her arm indicating to Mary to go in a set direction. As Mary walked past her she felt a hand graze her arm and a hand placed in the center of her back. As if to both guide and to reassure her, she felt a wave shoot through her body, delightfully so. A lightening bolt that started in her brain and ended in her groin. She took a deep breath, what on earth had just happened she wondered. It had been a long time since Mary Elizabeth Haughton had felt so, and she liked it.
As they walked towards a row of six small booths, semi circles with a high partition walls separating them from each other. Mary felt a hand slowly slipping down from the small in her back, to the top of her backside. She glanced over her shoulder and found Erica with a slight smile on her face, Mary cocked her head sideways momentarily, hoping she gave the right message. She wasn’t too sure what that message should be, she did feel a little uncomfortable with a a complete stranger groping her in public, well anywhere for that matter. But it also sent a weird and wonderful feeling through her body as well, that a complete stranger would in fact want to grope her, in public or at all.
Evie stopped at a booth and held her arm out indicating they had arrived. They had in fact arrived at the booth, which was set for two, a very intimate setting for two, thought Mary. What on earth was going on here, she thought to herself. It was opulently furnished in a soft red leather, it had a bench seat curved around the booth, with a large circular red wood table, solid looking and highly polished. The table could easily sit six people for a full dinner sitting. Mary looked at the the setting, her eyes wide open. She wasn’t prepared for this at all. She thought to herself, that this was a seduction not a luncheon shared by two complete strangers. She stopped and looked back at Erica saying.
“What have you got on your mind? I came here for a bite to eat” Erica smiled and laughed a little laugh,
“Fear not Mary, nothing is happening here that you don’t want to happen”.
“Good, as long as you know, I am very happily married with three kiddies at home. I’m straight, very, very straight” again Erica smiled and nodded,
“Of course you are Mary and I am an openly gay woman who is entertaining you in a private booth in the most sort after lunch time table, and Lesbian bar in the city. What did you think was going on?”. Mary smiled and nodded, touché, she thought to herself, consider yourself told my girl.
She was going to have to keep her wits about her and had a brief thought, why on earth didn’t I wear something sexy underneath? She started to squeeze in to the booth, but felt a firm hand on her elbow, which stopped her in her tracks, Erica held her firmly, while Evie pulled the table out, it was on rollers, A faint smile rose on Evie’s lips as Mary quite easily now slid along the seating to a place setting, a setting that looked far more than just for a simple 3 course luncheon. Erica moved into next to her, she guided herself so effortlessly into place, right next to Mary, knees touching under the table, not intentionally but somehow reassuringly. Strange thought Mary, that I feel this way. Both worried and excited. for the first time in a lot while she felt her body quiver and was certain she was feeling the first stages of arousal. She cursed herself again for not taking more care in selecting her underwear.
Erica looked at Mary and asked “Feel safe?” Mary smiled and nodded once again. She then turned to Evie. And straightened her back,
“Evie, if I ever see you smirk at any of my guests again, I will redden you backside where you stand, understood” Evie straighten up immediately, head bowed, “Yes Mistress” She stood there not moving, “now apologize.”
Evie moved to the middle of the booth and quietly said, “Mrs Haughton, I humbly apologize for smiling at your surprised look when arriving at my Mistresses booth” Mary’s mouth dropped open, completely unaware that Evie had in fact smiled at her astonishment. She was even more surprised on what had just happened and in fact what was taking place. Erica waved her hand in Evie’s direction,
“Now go and serve our lunches and close the drapes”. Evie turned and untied the heavy drapes. She left the booth just as the two large velvet curtains came together, completely isolating Mary and Erica from the other diners, in fact from the outside world, even the sounds from the dinning room suddenly became muffled. Mary was impressed, although she tried hard not to show it.
Erica turned to Mary and with a smile on her face asked “What are you doing here Mary?” A cold hard stare held Mary’s gaze.
“Well I actually came in to have a bite to eat” Mary said nervously. That smile didn’t leave Erica’s lips. It wasn’t a sneer of a smile but a warm smile from a woman who knew her prey was caught in her headlights and she was going to enjoy this encounter.
“Mary” she said “you don’t fit in here, by your own words you said you weren’t gay, so what are you doing here? What are you looking for? And how did you know this was a gay venue?”
Mary started to speak but stammered, not knowing what to say. Should she just come out and tell her everything, or pretend, bluff, make out she was more confident that she really was. Erica picked up Mary’s hand and held it, while all the time looking deep into her eyes. Her attempts to put Mary at ease, to reassure her wasn’t working.
“Tell me, was it just idol curiosity or were you looking for something or some one maybe?” Mary looked down away from that intense gaze, and thought to herself, Why was she here? She looked up and into that handsome face, looked at her hand being held so securely, and said
“Do you want the whole honest story? Honestly Erica, it was all about a stupid conversation I saw online. About beats and if men had them was there any for women? It is really that simple and silly.”
Erica sighed at the sound of their lunch arriving, kissed Mary’s hand and placed it back on the table. There was a rattle and a shuffling just outside the curtain as a tray on wheels arrived and Evie stuck a hand in between the drapes and stated “sorry to interrupt Madam” as she opened the drapes. “Lunch has arrived, shall I serve or do you wish to wait?” Without saying a word, but a gentle nod of her head, lunch was served.
Evie went about preparing the table, moving and removing glasses and the appropriate accompaniments that would not be required, the lighting was turned up slightly, as was the music, soft orchestral music, romantic music.
The Soupe à l’oignon, a French onion soup was served in a traditional dish, with crisp toasted bread, topped with cheese and a dry red wine from the Côtes du Rhône region in France was served. Evie showed the bottle to Madam Erica and as a courtesy to Mary, who commented “What! No South Australian wines, aren’t they good enough for your Erica?” With a half smile on her lips.
Erica laughed and told her, “It goes with the theme we are trying to create sweetie.” Mary felt a warmth at the little bit of affection she was showed. She couldn’t remember the last time she was called a sweetie. Once again she felt a bolt run through her body. She shuddered. What on earth was happening to her. Evie stood back once the meal was set, gave a slight curtsey and left, drawing the drapes closed once again. They started their soup smiling at each other and the gentle banter between them felt so natural. The taste that swept across Mary’s taste buds was exquisite, oh my goodness she thought. Her face must of glowed in appreciations as Erica casually commented,
“Nice?” Mary nodded, without saying a word, failing to find any word that would express her immediate thoughts. She sipped at her wine and it felt so complimentary to the meal. Oh my she thought again, this is so good.
Erica sat back and looked once more at Mary and with an her spoon resting in her fingers, asked genuinely, “Was that a real answer earlier, or something you made up on the go?”
“It was real alright” Mary replied, “Have you heard of Literotica?”
“No I haven’t, what is Literotica?”
“Oh just a web-site that caters for all types. You can write stories etc and post them on their site.” Mary went on and explained the workings of the web-site all the while Erica kept her gaze, never looking away while they sipped their Soupe à l’oignon,
Once their soup and the story had finished Erica asked “So you thought that a group of people you don’t know, from all over the world, who might or might not be who they say they are, told you a story about gay women wanting to go out and have anonymous sex in the alleyways of what ever place they say they are from. And you believed them?” Mary stopped and for the first time realised just how silly all that sounded.
“And from that, you decided you would come into the most notorious lesbian bar in Adelaide to check us out. But you aren’t gay, have no tendencies towards gay women, but thought, well I don’t know, what were you thinking Mary?” Erica enjoying her little rant, said all that with a smile on her face.
“Do you know what today is Mary, apart from your lucky day?” Mary was a little shaken, but not put off, shook her head. “Today is Wednesday, Hump day as they say.” Mary’s eyes closed slightly as her brain ticked over. What was the meaning of it being a Wednesday or hump day she thought instantly.
“Well” said Erica, taking the last of her wine from her glass, and feeling it wash down the remnants of her French onion soup, crisp bread and grated cheese. “Here on a Wednesday lunch time is the time when all of the single ladies who also happen to be gay women, or at least pretend to be straight, come out to meet each other for some casual afternoon delight.”
Mary looked straight ahead, then down into her empty bowl where a few minutes before a lovely french onion soup had been. Then looked up and into Erica’s eyes, “I had no idea, I am so sorry. That wasn’t what I am here for, well I mean, I’m not gay”.
Erica looked into this attractive middle aged woman at her table and could see the fear in her eyes. Her whole body language was saying. Get me out of here.
“Mary, relax, nothing is going on here. Just two people having a pleasant bite to eat. I can see this has thrown you a little, you seem a little scared maybe. No need to be. You’re not my type”.
Mary was taken aback, “What do you mean, not your type? I think I shape up pretty well for an old girl.” She shot back with a sparkle in her eyes.
Erica leaned back and laid her arms along the back of the seat, like something a teenage boy might of done to try and put his arm around his girl on their first date. But in this instance Erica was just getting comfortable. A smile on her face. “No offence Mary, but I normally date younger women, who are single, gay and who do as they are told. You on the other hand don’t fit any of those things, do you?”
Mary folded her arms and sat back, in a typical defensive mode, body language wise, clearly taking offence at being told some basic home truths. Mary lent forward wrestling with her own feelings and thoughts. “What are we doing here then Erica?”
“We are just two new friends enjoying lunch.” came the reply.
“Can I ask some personal type questions?” asked Mary while looking into the beautiful eyes of this confident handsome woman.
“You can ask me anything Mary, that doesn’t mean I will answer them.”
“Of course. I kind of guessed that.” Mary looked down and away from those eyes, those hypnotic, penetrating eyes. “How often to do come in here, I mean for ‘lunch’ on a Wednesday?”
“Every Wednesday, in fact I eat here every day. Mary, I own the Mylk Bar sweetie.” The blushing cheeks gave away just how embarrassed she was feeling right about this point in time.
“Don’t feel embarrassed, you weren’t to know. So what else do you want to know?”
Mary gradually lifted her head and managed to look back at Erica, “I feel so silly, at the moment. I think all my questions revolve around the ladies out there and how on earth do they manage to meet up. Do you know them all?”
Erica laughed and her smile lit up the booth. “Good lord no, not even half of them, some I have seen come here every Wednesday but I’ve never met them”.
Mary screwed up her nose, while looking down at the empty bowl in front of her and raised her eyes to ask, “Many ex’s out there?” As she asked she held up her hand, “Sorry, none of my business and that was so inappropriate to ask, I’m so sorry”.
Just as she finished talking the drapes moved once again as Evie reappeared and asked if they were ready for their mains. Erica smiled and nodded, “Yes please Evie, and can you send Jean Paul in to me please”.
Two minutes later the very camp looking maître d’ came waltzing into the booth and with a rye smile and a little cock of his head, asked in French “Oui Madame.”
“Jean Paul, pouvez-vous obtenir une bouteille de Penfolds Bin 389 pour moi s’il vous plaît.” The French language just rolled effortlessly off of Erica’s tongue, as if she was a native from Montparnasse, in fact Erica would not of looked out of place in the once famous Le Monocle.
“Oui Madame” he took the empty wine glasses from the table and replaced them with Plumm Vintage RED b Wine Glasses. All of this took place in an efficient and well orchestrated manner and within a few moments the Flamiche aux Poireaux was served. After scurrying around making sure everything was in order, Evie stood straight, well as straight as a gay woman could, and asked politely if there was anything else Madame required. Erica smiled, looked around the table and with a simple wave of her hand dismissed her.
Mary looked down at the single slice of warm leek, bacon and cheese quiche. She took in and let the aroma fill the space in front of her, taking deep breathes and appreciating the whole ambience of her situation. Just as she was about to pick up her fork, Erica placed her hand on top of hers, and mouthed the words with a little shake of her head, Not Yet. Mary felt little a little school girl being chided by her mother when dining out for the first time. A memory from way back in time she thought.
The drapes burst open again and with an entrance that only a French maître d’ could manage, Jean Paul entered the booth. “votre vin madame”. Showing Erica the aged bottle of Penfolds Bin 389. Erica nodded, and was asked “Est Je verse madame?”
“Mais bien sûr Jean Paul”. A small sample was poured into a glass. Erica, swirled the rich red wine around in her glass, put it to her nose, rolled her eyes in delight, smiled and said “Une si magnifique goutte de vin. Nous continuons à oublier à quel point le vin d’Australie-Méridionale est bon, n’est-ce pas Jean Paul.”
“Oui Madame, nous le faisons vraiment.” She then took a small sip, letting it sit on her taste buds as it made a home in her mouth. She let it run down her throat, gave a big grin and asked for the wine to be served. Jean Paul poured both glasses, complete with a simple flick of the wrist to ensure not a drop was spilt and placed the half empty bottle back on the table. he asked with his eyes if that was all and got a nod.
The maître d’ smiled gave a slight bow to both women and backed out of the booth, ensuring the drapes were securely closed.
Mary sat back and took in everything that had just happened. Smiling to herself, she thought, that she could get use to this life style. she was resting her chin on her two hands that were eloquently formed an arch over her meal. She looked at Erica with a warmth that caught her off guard. Erica asked, “Why the big smile?”
” Your French is immaculate, and so, so” as she went looking for a word, “French.
I was just thinking to myself, that I hadn’t been treated like this, like forever”. And she laughed at her own feeling of deep inside. Knowing she felt quite at home and somewhat aroused. Erica sipped at her wine all the while looking over at Mary, who was toying with her own glass of wine, as if contemplating some major decision.
Erica picked up her fork and began to say something just as Mary began to speak. The both burst into laughter, “no you first” they both said together, then laughed again. “OK” said Erica, taking charge, “Lets talk about your fantasy in the chat room on that erotica chat site you mentioned.”
Mary waved her hand in the general direction towards Erica, “No that’s so silly, now I think about it.”
Erica broke a small piece of quiche of her slice and poked the fork into the heart of the mouth size piece. “A word of warning, this quiche is delicious and very filling. The wine is also very filling, so be advised, partake cautiously.” Mary cocked her head to the side and looked at her hostess, and relaxed. Such a caring thing to say, she thought. This felt so right, Mary ate while deep in thought, where as Erica kept up the conversation discussing a range of current topics.
Mary was deep in a thought process, when she felt a nudge, “Hey wake up.”
“Sorry, what. I was thinking about how good this feels and what is it going to set me back.”
“Oh yeah, you don’t have to worry about the bill, that is taken care of, but you might have to leave a tip.” Said Erica with an grin on her lips.
“Well just feeling this good is deserving of a tip alone. The company, I’m sure doesn’t have a price tag.” she said with a smile while looking directly into those hazel eyes. “I’m enjoying your company, the whole kit and caboodle, sorry I’m being silly, I’m starting to ramble on.”
Erica stopped and looked at her, “Don’t be so sure that the company doesn’t come with a price tag and for a straight woman Mary, you’re acting very gay.”
They ate on in silence, both occasionally looking over their wine glass to catch the other looking at them. Mary nearly always blushed and looked away quickly, while Erica watched her as if weighting her up. Deciding what to do next.
As Erica finished her last mouthful and washed it down with the remaining wine from her glass, she instinctively filled up both glasses, before Mary could stop her, “Hey I have to drive home you know.”
“Opps sorry, not use to having my Wednesday lunchtime guests having to worry about going anywhere, except home with me.” She smiled as the last sentence eased out of her mouth.
Mary was blushing once more. “Well this Wednesday lunchtime guest has a husband and 3 kids to worry about, so I will be driving home.”
“Give me your hand Mary and look at me,” asked Erica, Mary obliged “You my dear lady are not driving anywhere this afternoon. I’ll arrange to get you home in time, with nothing too suspicious to explain”. She said. Mary started to argue, but Erica put a finger to Mary’s lips and raised her eye brows, complete with a stony look upon her face.
Mary stopped abruptly not saying another word, and looked a little bewildered, “How” she asked sheepishly.
Erica, smiled and explained, that they had a community driver service they contribute to, where, when a guest is likely to be unsafe to drive, they arrange for a driver, to drive them home. A second car follows and collects the driver. That way explained Erica, she is contributing to the welfare of both her guests and the community at large.
Mary sat back and admired this exceptional woman next to her. “You really are a gem, you know.”
“I know” she replied. “So lets eat desert, forgo any more wine for you and talk about your fantasies, all of them.”
End Pt: 1