Restless On A Road Trip: A Lesbian Romance Read online

  As she leaned over to dig through her duffel bag, Maggie’s shorts rode higher up on her butt and I couldn’t turn away. The backsides of her thighs were creamy and white and the material of the shorts stretched out over the curve of her rear. I took a deep breath and tried to relax.

  “I’m starved,” said Maggie, popping back up with her wallet in her hand and grinning at me. “Let’s eat!”

  We did dinner at a local Mexican restaurant that was totally not like the Mexican restaurants we were used to in Chicago. It was a strange situation, to be honest. We were also used to Chicago prices and when we ordered the $8 taquitos, we expected a half-dozen tiny fried wraps but instead received a full dozen large flour tortilla monstrosities. Maggie and I laughed about it and sipped from our oversized margaritas.

  When you’re on the road, you have no idea what you’re going to get. And that’s part of the charm. You get so used to things being the way they are in your every day life, the differences you find when you’re out of your comfort zone are always new and surprising. Maggie and I laughed about how big the taquitos in Omaha were, there was no way we could have eaten them all, but we loved the experience of the surprise. We loved sharing that moment when the plate was brought out and our expectations were shattered.

  We walked around Old Market a little bit after dinner, but we were both admittedly tired from the drive and now a bit dizzy from the margaritas. And yeah, it was still 100 degrees out. We had another 8 hour driving day ahead of us if we wanted to make it to Boulder in two days so we jointly decided to just head back to the rental, have a little more wine, and turn in early.

  Together on the couch, in our lounging clothes, Maggie and I each nursed a glass of red wine that Michael had left for us as a gift for staying with him. It was a nice gesture.

  “I’m so much happier to be in here than out there in the heat,” mused Maggie as she sipped from her glass. “I think I totally sweat through my shirt out there.” I laughed and nodded.

  “I guess it gets hot in Omaha in the summer,” I replied. “And a stomach full of oversized taquitos doesn’t help anything.”

  “Right!” she laughed.

  “So…” I said, trying to switch subjects. I had some things on my mind. “What’s the deal with Piper?” I can admit to you that I was feeling a bit jealous the more I thought about it all. Piper and Maggie had dated before and it made me wonder what this trip was all about for Maggie. Was it meant to be some rekindling of their former romance? Was I just a tagalong? Even worse, would I be totally forgotten about once we arrived in Boulder?

  “She’s a cool chick,” said Maggie. “She works for this weather research facility there. I think it’s called NCAR? I’m not sure what she does really. Some sort of science-y weather stuff.”

  “That’s cool,” I said. “But… that’s not really what I mean.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like, what’s the deal with you and her?” I said, feeling like I was fumbling through it. It really wasn’t my place to ask about it, nor should I care, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself. I did care. I was worried.

  “Really?” said Maggie, laughing, leaning over and setting her wine down on the coffee table. “You jealous or something?” Maggie said this with a fire in her eye.

  “No!” I protested with a lie. “C’mon. I’m just, you know, interested.”

  “Right,” said Maggie skeptically. “Piper and I are over with,” she said sweetly, reaching her hand over and petting my thigh as though she were consoling me. This gesture quickened my pulse. “In fact, we hardly even started. We dated for a little while but it was all sex.” Maggie said, waving it off. “Relationship-wise, we clashed a bit. It just wasn’t happening. But in bed… phew!” She dramatically wiped at her brow.

  “It was good?” I peeped.

  “Real good,” said Maggie. “That girl has a silver tongue.” I’m sure I made a face, scrunching up and looking putting off, which gave Maggie a laugh and probably made her think I was grossed out by the conversation or something. Really I was just nervous and jealous. “I’m sorry,” she said, still giggling. “You probably don’t want to hear about what lesbians do behind closed doors.”

  This gave me a pause. I thought about what Maggie said and actually, being honest, I did think about it. I thought about it a lot. I took a deep breath, feeling the wine move through me, a boldness welling up inside of me.

  “No,” I corrected lightly. “I don’t mind.”

  “So you want to hear about it?” said Maggie incredulously. Her face was bright and amused. She was definitely having a good time playing with me. “What am I saying? What woman doesn’t like to have their pussy licked?”

  “At this point I’ll take any kind of action I can get,” I said, saying this with a hint of trepidation, just trying to lighten up, but also trying to open up as well.

  “Totally!” called out Maggie through yet another laugh. She was having a blast and this inspired a similar feeling in me. I took another drink from my glass and smiled. Maggie was such a pretty lady. That blonde hair really did it for me, so voluminous and thick. And such a nice, fit little body. I bet she was really tight all over. Looking over at her, I caught a glimpse of her cleavage peeking out from her low cut shirt. I imagined what her breasts must looked like.

  “So, I mean, are you gonna ditch me and screw around with Piper while we’re in Boulder?” I asked frankly. “Should I anticipate figuring out some things for myself?”

  “Dana!” Maggie protested. “C’mon. Really? You think I’d ditch you to screw around with my old fling? No way.” With that, Maggie flipped her hand nonchalantly, like I was being crazy for thinking it. “I’d never want you to feel left out.”

  “I guess all three of us could get together,” I said brashly, almost blushing into my wine. Maggie offered a huge giggle at my suggestion, reaching to my thigh again and giving it a squeeze.

  “You’re bad, Dana,” she said at the tail end of her laugh. “But I have to admit that would be fun. Corrupting the straight girl,” Maggie said, devilishness in her eyes, grinning at me. This whole time I could feel my heart racing. The conversation made me vibrate, rife with a sexual tension I hadn’t really felt before. I demurred at Maggie’s words, looking down, and caught myself staring into her bare creamy white thighs and longing to put my hands on them as she had done so casually to me.

  “I’m on vacation,” I said with a lackadaisical shrug.

  “You’re totally on vacation,” smiled Maggie, her eyes meeting mine. We held each other’s gaze for an expectant moment. It made me feel nervous and I completely loved it.

  “I’m really happy to be free from Paul,” I admitted slowly, going for my wine to try to shove something in my mouth. But I couldn’t stop myself from talking. “That just never felt right.” From Maggie’s response, I knew I had said this information differently than I’d said it before.

  “Oh really?” said Maggie, biting her lip, offering a slow nod, egging me on to speak a bit more.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I don’t think that was right for me.”

  “Why’d you do it then?”

  “I guess I thought I was… supposed to,” I admitted. I’d never really said it like that to anyone before. It felt weird coming out but it also felt right. Correct. “What was I? 30 when we met? I don’t know. All my friends were getting married.”

  “Yeah,” said Maggie, nodding along with me, trying to figure out what I was saying. I could see in Maggie’s face that her brain was working things out. “You know, Dana,” she began. “You can always talk to me about whatever it is you’re going through. We go way back. You can trust me.”

  “I know,” I said shyly. I wasn’t normally such a shy woman but all this stuff was just coming out so fast. I was still feeling strange and confused internally but in a way I felt extremely safe with Maggie. And when you’re on vacation, when you’re outside of your normal life, some things are easier to accept and just run with.
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br />   “Was it just Paul?” she asked cautiously. “Just the wrong guy?” Maggie said, really emphasizing that last word.

  “Something like that.”

  “Hmm,” Maggie responded. She once again had her wine glass in her hands and she swished around its contents as she contemplated.

  “Enough about him,” I said, feeling somewhat flustered and trying to change the subject. “That’s over with. I’m happy I’m moving on. I don’t want to think about that life anymore. This is the start of something brand new for me.”

  “Right,” said Maggie, brightening up once again. “We’re going to have a lot of fun on this trip, Dana. I’m totally certain of that.” Maggie smiled over at me and I happily returned her expression. She lit up my heart. Maggie was this special beacon to me. With her, I knew everything was going to be all right.

  “I’m ready for whatever!” I said, a silly grin on my face.

  A bit later on that night, I had already done my routine and climbed into the big bed all alone, pulling the fluffy blanket up to my neck and getting cozy. In the heat of summer, it’s always nice to be in an air conditioned house buried under blankets. Isn’t that strange? It’s warm outside so we cool it down and then we warm ourselves up again with blankets. It’s just… comfortable. Lying there in bed, snuggling into the sheets, I listened as Maggie went through her bedtime routine in the bathroom right next door. My heart pumped with excitement, my eyes trained on the door, awaiting her arrival.

  I was far too excited to sleep in the same bed as Maggie. I just hoped that it wouldn’t keep me up all night.

  After a few moments, I heard the light click off in the next room and then watched as Maggie sauntered into the bedroom. She was wearing her tank top, obviously braless, her breasts hanging behind the thin fabric of her top, nipples pointing out and offering a glimpse of their shape. Below, Maggie just had on a pair of pale pink panties. Her blonde hair was pulled up and as she walked further into the room, she removed her glasses and set them on the bedside table. This woman was gorgeous to me. She was a beautiful angel.

  “Room for one more?” she asked teasingly. Maggie then yanked at the thick blanket and climbed into bed.

  “Of course,” I said, smiling, pretending like I was on the precipice of sleep, but eager to feel Maggie’s warmth lying next to me.

  “We’re getting up at, like, 6AM tomorrow,” she said. “Is that cool? I really want to get on the road.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “Good,” Maggie said. Reaching over, she flicked the bedside table light off, causing the room to completely go dark. “The alarm on my phone’s set.”

  “Mine too,” I said. “Just in case.”

  “Great,” she said. I could feel her smile in her words. “Goodnight Dana.”

  “Goodnight Maggie,” I said.

  I felt the sheets and the bed shift as Maggie made herself comfortable, her legs pumping back and forth, her butt grinding down. After a moment, she turned on her side and tried to get comfortable that way. I listened to Maggie’s breathing, which at first conveyed that she was still awake and searching for sleep and steadiness. But soon it became methodical and began to slow. I felt the exact opposite. I could feel my heart thumping hard in my chest. I could feel a slight anxiety within me. I was lying so close to her. I thought of her nice round butt underneath those pink panties, really only a foot or so away from me there under the blanket. While Maggie was obviously melting in the exceptionally comfortable memory form mattress underneath us, I was feeling amped up and excited and didn’t expect sleep any time soon.

  I could smell the sweetness of Maggie’s hair, some sort of floral conditioner. It smelled clean and fresh. I imagined pushing my nose into the back of her hair and taking a long, deep breath, trying to inhale Maggie’s essence, wanting so badly to be close to her. Right up next to her. I was so damn close. I could just scoot over and I would be there, spooning her. I could slide my arm over her, pull her close, press my palm to her stomach. Hold tight. Oh my God, I couldn’t believe I was thinking such things. It was making me wired. I raised my hand up to my breast and felt my heart. It was beating so fast.

  Then I imagined reaching my hands out under the sheet and taking hold of the back of Maggie’s panties, pawing at the elastic, and pulling them down over her butt. I’d then slip my hands down and take her firm cheeks in my hands, offering a squeeze, my fingertips reaching out to feel the backs of her thighs. Maybe I’d even reach further inside and feel the downiness of her secret fur.

  “Stop,” I thought to myself. “Don’t do this.”

  But I couldn’t help it. The pull to think about Maggie in a sexual way was just too enticing. I’d slip my finger down her crack and underneath her, moving between her legs, offering her furry folds gentle and methodical caresses. That’s exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to feel her wetness in my hand. I wanted to press myself against her small figure and writhe there together in that comfortable bed. The thoughts monopolized my brain. They were so strong, so powerful. One hand down the back of her panties, elastic against my wrist, fondling her as she grew wetter, the other reaching around front and squeezing one of her tits from underneath.

  I absently scratched an itch on my inner thigh as I considered this fantasy and as I did this, I felt the side of my hand bump up against my mound, the fabric of my own panties feeling soft against my hand. This accidental touch felt good, so I moved the side of my hand back and forth against my panties, feeling my fleshy lips underneath move along with me. It was all feeling pretty great. There was a subtle wet spot where I had begun leaking from the excitement perpetrated by my mind. I rubbed the wet area in slow circles and sighed aloud, quickly silencing myself as I realized what I was doing. And that yes, Maggie was indeed lying next to me in bed.

  I pulled my hand back and scolded myself. What was I doing? Was I crazy? Was I really masturbating over thoughts of my friend, sexualizing her as she slept a foot away from me?

  But I couldn’t stop. Pressing my palm against myself, I rubbed up and down through the tensile fabric of my underwear, loving the pressure of my hand against my aching flesh underneath. Maggie was totally unaware, sleeping soundly, and I took in another deep breath of the wonderful scent wafting off of her as I continued pleasuring myself.

  My legs starting pumping back and forth as I got into it, though I tried to steady them so as to not wake Maggie. My breathing intensified. I was loving it. I imagined Maggie flipping over and sliding her hand between my thighs, helping me along, grabbing at my middle and giving me some tender squeezing and rubbing. The excitement within me doubled. I pinched at my lips through my panties, pulling, yanking, feeling the underside of my panties becoming soaked. I couldn’t believe I was doing this and it made me even more excited. I had actually gotten pretty good at silently masturbating in bed while someone slept next to me. A marriage you shouldn’t have gotten into will help with that. I don’t advise it. But all that practice was definitely coming in handy.

  Pulling my hand up, I eagerly pressed it into the elastic band and traversed my fingers downward. I parted my pleat with wanting fingers, sopping up some of my wetness, and guiding it upwards back toward my throbbing bead. As soon as I touched myself there I had to bite my tongue, else I knew I would have called out. It was amazing. I flicked at myself in quick concentric circles, knowing just how to complete my own puzzle, feeling the excitement building up inside of me and the pressure grow.

  I leaned my face over and buried my mouth into the pillow. I wanted to be sure I wouldn’t make any noise once the moment hit me.

  With my thighs squeezed against my wrist, my fingers wetly rubbing, eyes squinted, I let my imagination run wild. I pictured burying my face into Maggie’s muff, licking her, tasting her, smelling the aromas of her sex. I wanted to fuck her so bad. I’d always wanted to fuck her. That was something I found difficult to admit to myself in normal everyday life, but easy to concede when I fingered myself and was suffused in sexual appetite.
This wasn’t the first time I’d masturbated to thoughts of Maggie. That’s probably obvious to you.

  I thought about going down on her, lapping at her, slipping my finger inside of her and penetrating. I pictured Maggie throwing her head back, moaning, loving my actions, when I suddenly felt my legs begin to judder. My thighs clamped onto my wrist hard and I folded over, whimpering into the pillow, that wonderful orgasmic energy pumping through my body and making my fingers and toes go slightly numb. I loved it. I even laughed a little bit through my whimpers and sighs, sounds hopefully obscured by the pillow. I gently pet myself with wet fingers, each subtle movement giving me another shiver as I came, as I traveled that spectacular sexual voyage.

  “Hmm?” I heard Maggie sleepily intone from where she lay next to me. Fear overtook me, even though I still had the orgasmic chills. Maggie rolled over slightly and hazily opened her eyes, looking at me. As I saw this happening, I made sure to shut my eyes tightly, but not too tightly, and feigned sleep. My left foot was still kicking as the remnants of my climax dissipated but up top I was doing my best to pretend like nothing was out of the ordinary. I faked a yawn.

  My heart raced. I felt caught. I prayed that Maggie would just turn back over and go to sleep.

  “Okay,” I heard her say in that same sleepy tone. I felt the bed move slightly, the covers pull, as Maggie returned to her slumber. She hadn’t heard a thing. It was just all in her head. Go back to sleep.

  Slowly, carefully, I slipped my hand out of my panties and wiped my own wetness onto my t-shirt. I inhaled deliberately and then exhaled just the same. I felt amazing. My panties were moist and sticky now but I didn’t mind. I had gotten away with it. It was such a perverted little secret and it burned an intense fire within me. I was ready for even more craziness.