The brunette had just finished eating breakfast. She still sat contentedly at the breakfast table, in a fairly secluded corner of a large and elegant hotel breakfast room. Next to her sat her lover, a tall blonde girl. Both girls were happy, secure in their love, and basking in the happy memories of their physical intimacy earlier that morning, less than an hour before.
Directly in the brunette’s line of sight, a petite blonde girl in her mid-20s walked past. She was pretty — very pretty. The petite blonde’s intense blue eyes flashed to their breakfast table, and to the brunette. Their eyes met. There was an intense, unsmiling and supremely awkward moment that the brunette couldn’t quite place, and then she saw the petite’s blonde’s eyes move on, to the tall, blonde girl sitting next to the brunette. The petite blonde smiled at the tall blonde, who smiled back. Their eye contact seemed friendly and mutually comfortable to the point of seeming almost intimate.
The brunette looked down, feeling an all-too-familiar, acrid feeling. She hated that feeling. She couldn’t quite place it … it was more than jealousy. She raised her eyes and looked at the petite blonde some more as the latter once again focused on her own breakfast. She had a large tattoo on her shoulder … one stylized word, difficult to read. Otherwise, she looked like a blend of what Francoise Hardy and Brigitte Bardot looked like in the 70s.
Looking down, the brunette sighed. In the past, she’d have kept quiet, her emotions churning. But, her lover had encouraged openness, and so she said: “I feel … so negative. I’m not sure what I feel … part of it is jealousy, and part of it is … I don’t know. Longing … I am jealous of how she looks, of her confidence, her youth, how she looked at you and how she smiled at you, and how you smiled back. I feel jealous of you too … of your ability to so easy and sincerely connect with people, and your ability to make eye contact with her and smile. I looked at her and our eyes met and I felt … I don’t know … like a deer in a car’s headlights. I probably looked like an idiot. So part of me wishes I could be like her, or BE her. And … part of me ….” she bit her lower lip … “part of me wants to be with her. As in, in bed, or in a conversation, or both. And … part of me is afraid I’ll lose you to someone like her. What if you got to know her, and found out she’s brilliant? What if you have more things in common with her? What if she would understand your business world so much better than I do? What if you become friends with her and want to take her to bed? How can I compete with that?”
The tall blonde next to her was listening intently, and approvingly, as the brunette continued: “Wow, I am experiencing intense jealousy in multiple ways, right now.” She swallowed, her mouth dry, and continued: “Normally, I’d have gotten up and left by now. The only thing that makes this tolerable is that you’ve taught me to accept, and be open about, how I feel. If you hadn’t, I’d have felt overwhelmed right about now. I’d have left and you’d have found me in the hotel bed upstairs, the curtains drawn, not speaking to you and feeling a ball of resentment in the pit of my stomach; part-jealousy, part-resentment, part-anger, part-hatred, part-sorrow. I’d have stayed there all day and night — not sleeping.”
She felt the tall blonde’s gentle brown eyes bathing her in absolution and comforting understanding. The blonde’s large, strong hand closed over hers, gently squeezing it. Somehow that helped. The tall blonde looked at the brunette for a long time, then took a deep breath, and sat up more erect yet. Her mood seemed to change. She focused on the petite blonde, and seemed oddly stern. The brunette was puzzled. She hadn’t seen this mode before. She knew that the tall blonde had, years ago, been a professional Dominatrix but she hadn’t seen what that looked like in interaction with someone else.
The petite blonde walked past again, to help herself to some more fruit at a nearby table. She glanced at the tall blonde again, with another smile. She didn’t like how the tall blonde was looking at her, this time, not returning the smile directly but more looking at her with an odd type of smile that seemed to imply something else. The petite blonde frowned and looked away. She ignored the tall blonde but suddenly seemed perturbed. She dropped a spoon from her bowl of fruit by mistake, and it bounced off and landed on the floor. As she bent to pick it up, she looked awkward and self-conscious. Even before straightening up, she looked at the tall blonde again, nervously. She finally stood erect, defiant, still looking at the tall blonde. She was barely not glaring at her.
The brunette watched silently, now intrigued. Whatever was happening was deeply visceral.
The tall blonde straightened her arm and pointed to the petite blonde, as in “you.” This pose lasted for several seconds. The petite blonde’s throat moved visibly as she swallowed. She awkwardly turned the bowl of fruit in her hands around and around. As the seconds went by, she was on the verge of pointing to herself as in “who, me?” but then the tall blonde pointed at the empty chair next to the brunette. The petite blonde stood stiffly and defiantly, and glared at the tall blonde.
Even though the interaction was between the two blondes, the brunette felt somehow involved in this dynamic. She didn’t know why. Suddenly, she felt another emotion, above and beyond the intrigue. It was a strange mix of dark excitement and … oddly … pleasure.
The two blondes kept looking at each other. Finally, the petite blonde looked down, and then looked up again, her glance softer. Something — or someone — had just been broken. All three of them realized this. The petite blonde came over and sat down, awkwardly placing the bowl of fruit down. Several seconds went by. Finally, the petite blonde said: “Hello, I’m …” and then she saw the tall blonde holding her own finger to her own lips, as the international gesture of instructing silence. The petite blonde fell silent. She looked at the brunette almost as if asking for help.
The brunette suddenly felt strangely empowered. She didn’t know why. She looked at the petite blonde as if she were considering buying her at an auction. The tall blonde noticed that, and she and then brunette exchanged smiles that made the brunette search for an adjective … “conspiratorial.” Her feelings of jealousy and resentment were suddenly gone. She felt empowered and a strange, new intimacy between herself and her tall, blonde lover — a deep intimacy that excluded the petite blonde. She smiled happily, knowing somehow that everything was all right, and would always be so. She felt a surge of elation, and eager anticipation.
The tall blonde pointed to the large tattoo on the shoulder of the petite blonde, part-way covered by the shoulder strap of a pretty and colorful summer dress. The brunette looked, without any subtlety. She could make out a few letters and tried to guess at the rest. She also looked at the petite blonde’s face, and the quality of her skin. The brunette’s look was appraising — and approving. The petite blonde seemed to notice that, and looked at the brunette gratefully. The two of them exchanged gentle glances of mutual, smiling, silent introduction. The brunette felt a connection with the petite blonde … somehow intimate. The two girls stared into each other’s eyes, with the tall blonde looking on approvingly.
Then, the petite blonde realized that the tall blonde was still pointing at her tattoo. She reached up to the shoulder strap of her summer dress and was about to pull it down when she glanced at the tall blonde to see a hand gesture of “no, stop.” The petite blonde froze. The tall blonde took the brunette’s hand and guided it to the shoulder strap of the petite blonde’s dress. The petite blonde smiled. The brunette’s feelings were a churn of happy emotion as she wordlessly pulled the shoulder strap down. Both she and the petite blonde were sitting erect, breathing deeply and slowly.
The petite blonde looked down at her tattoo, still somehow obscured by the dress. Her warm, small hand closed over the hand of the brunette, and their eyes made contact again as the petite blonde guided the brunette’s hand to pull the summer dress down some more. It exposed the tattoo completely. The brunette looked down. The word of the tattoo was intriguing … and then the eyes of the brunette went down to the breast of the petite blonde, the soft white skin exposed for one delicious-looking inch. No more was being revealed than would be done by a bikini on the beach, but in the context of the hotel breakfast room, the exposure was intensely erotic.
The petite blonde and the brunette looked at each other again, with deepening intimacy. Then, they both looked at the tall blonde as if to seek guidance. The tall blonde looked around the room. They had privacy, not least because the petite blonde was sitting with her back to where the waiters were, and the check had been settled so none were likely to come over again. The tall blonde made a downward glance that conveyed an instruction. The petite blonde and the brunette each took another deep breath and shivered with excitement, then noticed what they’d done, and smiled at each other in mutual understanding. Their connection was rapidly deepening. The brunette’s hand moved down some more, exposing more of the breast of the petite blonde. The latter looked at the brunette, who returned the look and then looked down approvingly at to the breast of the blonde. Somehow they all knew that a pecking order had just been established, with the petite blonde being Omega.
The two other girls both looked at the tall blonde some more for guidance, and saw the downward glance repeated. The brunette swallowed hard, and pulled the summer dress down until the entire breast of the petite blonde was exposed. It wasn’t cold but the petite blonde was shivering, and her body looked like it would have had the air been very cold.
The two other girls again looked at the tall blonde, who in turn looked at the other shoulder strap. The brunette understood. She gave the tall blonde a grateful glance, and slowly pulled the other strap down too, thus exposing the other breast of the petite brunette. The brunette and petite blonde both were breathing deeply, intensely aroused.
The tall blonde nodded approvingly and reached to the bowl of fruit in front of the petite blonde. She picked up a cherry and brought it slowly to the lips of the petite blonde, who seemed to be trying to resist one last time, closing her eyes and keeping her lips closed too. Then, her shoulders slumped slightly, and she opened her eyes and her lips. She looked at the brunette as if to seek allegiance as she opened her lips and accepted the cherry, taking it into her mouth. The symbolism was clear to all three of them. The brunette was smiling delightedly, enjoying the moment intensely. She glanced lovingly at the tall blonde, feeling very close to her. The tall blonde picked up the bowl of fruit and handed it pointedly to the brunette. The two lovers’ eyes met, as they smiled at each other, enjoying their intimacy. Then, the brunette focused on the petite blonde, who was looking at the brunette, wide-eyed, her lips slightly open. Slowly and sensually, the brunette fed small pieces of fruit to the petite blonde.
The brunette loved this new dynamic. She looked at the tall blonde with another loving glance. The tall blonde returned the look in kind, then picked up a raspberry and crushed it with a clean spoon, dipped her finger in the juice and then leaned forward to smear it onto the still-apart lips of the petite blonde. Next, she smeared the juice onto the lips of the brunette, and sat back. A few seconds went by. Both of the other girls understood, but they briefly resisted as they sat there, savoring the anticipation, their lips wet with bright red juice. The petite blonde was shivering again. She seemed overwhelmed and very aroused. The brunette shot one more grateful look at the tall blonde, and then leaned in and kissed the petite blonde on her slightly-parted lips, at first very gently and then gradually less and less so. Two minutes later, both girls were leaning toward each other, kissing intensely, their hands holding each other by the waist. The petite blonde was still sitting there topless, her breasts exposed. It was more than erotic; it was also an act of submission to both the brunette and the tall blonde.
The brunette enjoyed the complex sensations including the hand of the tall blonde on her back, slipped underneath her top for skin-to-skin contact, as encouragement. After four minutes of kissing the petite blonde, the brunette felt the hand being withdrawn from her back, and she pulled back and sat upright again, awaiting the next step. The petite blonde sat upright, evidently aroused, and looking at the brunette, enamored.
The tall blonde made a two-handed gesture to the petite blonde, who looked at her in time to see nonverbal instructions as to “wrap it up” so she pulled up her dress including the shoulder straps, and awaited the next instruction.
The tall blonde pointedly looked at the other two girls, and reached out a hand toward each. They immediately responded in kind. Then, the tall blonde put the hands of the two girls together, and then pointedly looked at the brunette, and handed her the room key. She then looked at the petite blonde, and repeated the “silence” gesture. She did the same for the brunette. Both of the other girls nodded in understanding. Then, the tall blonde leaned in and kissed the brunette passionately. She responded in kind.
The tall blonde pulled back and stood up, thus instructing the other two girls to stand too. They did, and the tall blonde made an inviting “off you go” gesture. The two other girls blushed, then left, still holding hands, with the brunette leading the way. With a content smile, the tall blonde finished her cup of coffee, as she watched the other two girls walk self-consciously down the length of the hotel breakfast room. Then, perhaps a minute later, she also headed to the same hotel room, a spare room key in her pocket.
A few minutes later, she entered the hotel room to see the two other girls standing nearby, kissing again, with the petite blonde again topless, and the brunette’s skilled fingers gently kneading the other girl’s breasts. The tall blonde silently stood nearby, and whenever the other two girls seemed ready for the next step of escalation yet seemed hesitant, she provided the perfect gesture so as to guide and encourage them along. This was her only participation in the dynamic.
Three hours later, the petite blonde was standing by the hotel room door, her mind awash with happy emotion since this had been her more intense girl-girl experience ever, and it had been wonderful. She hugged the brunette one last time, then she looked at the tall blonde and nodded in a clear, smiling gesture of gratitude. She opened the door, stepped out and closed it gently behind her, tears of happiness glistening in her eyes. During the entire time in the room, not a word had been spoken though the room had very much not been quiet.
Inside the room, the brunette looked at the tall blonde with naked delight. Then, she could no longer contain her elation, and she rushed forward into a spontaneous embrace, her eyes sparkling. “I love life with you,” were the first words she said.
After another erotic hour in bed, the brunette asked: “Who was she? Did you arrange this?”
The tall blonde smiled, and replied: “she’s a friend, a cerebral shy girl like us. She started out thinking she’s straight but after conversations with me she realized she’s not.”
“Oh, have you two …”
“Been sexually intimate? Conversationally, yes. Physically, no.”
“Oh. So how much of this was staged? Is she a sex worker?”
“No. She’s a contractor for one of my businesses. She’s studying for a degree in business and she does part-time work for me. So I do know her, and she is brilliant, and I have many things in common with her, and she does understand my business world better than you do. And I do want to take her to bed, but I might or might not ever do so. Coming back to your question of this morning: how can you compete with that? You just did, by being you. She has left and you are here, and that’s how it should be.”
The brunette nodded, her lovely brown eyes suddenly glistening, as the tall blonde continued: “As to how much of this was staged: I know she’s in good sexual health. I paid for her hotel room and travel to be here, and I arranged for her to be at breakfast and walk by. As for everything else, it was spontaneous though she was clear I’d hoped you two would meet and get along — somehow. My intent was originally for it to be conversational but … that can happen next. I like how things played out, instead. So do you, evidently.”
The brunette nodded vigorously then asked “but why?”
“I wanted you to have an experience you’d enjoy and to also understand you don’t have to be someone like her, so as to be secure in the you-and-I dynamic. Did I succeed?”
“Magnificently,” replied the brunette, as she approached the tall blonde for another intense and passionate kiss.