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Difficult Choices Ch. 01

By: RonCabo



Divorce is never easy, even if both parties desire it. When it is the action of only one of the two, it becomes more difficult; particularly when the other person had no clue that it was coming, nor any understanding of the reason for it. For Samantha Simmons, it had been particularly brutal. Her husband had taken her out for dinner on their tenth anniversary, they went home afterward, ostensibly to celebrate further in the bedroom, at which point he unceremoniously announced he was filing for divorce. He offered no opportunity for discussion nor any indication that he was amenable to resolving issues. His statement that he no longer loved her and she no longer satisfied him implied finality. Even throughout the court proceedings he offered no additional reasons.

Now, nearly a year later, Samantha was miserable and lonely. She had no idea what her future held. Each day was merely a sad repeat of the one before. She had done nothing more than go to work each day and home—which was now a dreary apartment; she hadn't wanted the house—each evening living a mundane existence.

Friends and family kept encouraging her, telling her things would get better. Everyone tried to cheer her up, but she found nothing uplifting in anything anyone said. Samantha's mother even made her an appointment with a psychiatrist, Dr. Joanne Podesta, through the Employee Assistance Program at work, which she kept simply to avoid an unnecessary lecture. She even went for a second visit for lack of anything better to do.

Some of what the doctor said actually made sense. Samantha even decided to take the counselor's advice and start living her life again. The suggestion was to begin slowly. Treat herself to dinner out, nothing fancy, someplace she really liked, but her ex did not. Surprisingly, it made a lot of sense; except that she didn't think she was quite ready to sit through an entire meal alone and have people stare pitifully at her. She believed a safer start would be a drink—or two—in a dark lounge.

And so, she did.

Now, at just over 30 years old, Samantha was still a very attractive woman: tall, lithe, blonde, fair-sized breasts, shapely legs. What she did not anticipate was men actually attempting to hit on her, and then with cheesy, pathetic lines. At first, it was uplifting, knowing that men still found her desirable. But after fending off two or three, it became tedious.

Considering the advisability of having a second drink, Samantha looked around and spotted a woman seemingly her own age who was elegant-looking as well as attractive. She was seated at the bar, alone. An idea quickly formed and Samantha moved from her table. Stopping at the empty stool next to the woman, Samantha asked, "Is this seat taken?"

Seemingly lost in thought, the woman turned. Upon seeing Samantha, she smiled warmly and said, "Please."

Pulling the stool out, Samantha caught the bartender's attention and ordered another glass of white wine as she hefted herself onto the seat.

"Thanks," the woman offered. "I think you might have saved me."

With a frown of incomprehension, Samantha said, "I'm sorry. I don't follow."

"I've been hit on by a number of assholes tonight. Maybe if they don't think I'm by myself, they'll leave me alone."

"That's exactly my motive," Samantha admitted with a smirk.

With a chuckle, the woman asked, "How many for you?"

Samantha shrugged. "Didn't bother to count. But after the second, it was way too many."

"I agree. By the way, I'm Wendy." She held out her hand.

"Samantha." She didn't think surnames were necessary yet.

"So, what's your story, Sam?"

"Please, I prefer Samantha."

"Ah. Sorry. So, you're an attractive woman in a bar alone not looking to be picked up; I'm guessing you're here to drown your sorrows because of a recent break-up."

"You're mostly correct," Samantha said with a wave of her hand. "But I'm not drowning sorrow, I'm starting over."

"By coming to a singles bar?"

"Well, I didn't realize that's what it was when I came here. It was just an alternative to staying home alone on a Friday night."

"So, it was a break-up?"

"Divorce," Samantha nodded.

"Men!"

"Yeah. So, what about you?"

Wendy didn't answer right away. After several seconds, she said, "I was supposed to be meeting someone, but I guess I've been stood up." She ordered them another round.

"Oh, no, no more for me," Samantha said with a sweep of her hand. "This is more than my limit."

"What the hell else do you have to do?"

Samantha shrugged. "Well, maybe one more."

"So, tell me about your divorce."

As she finished her second glass of wine, which as she indicated was more than she was accustomed to, Samantha became loose-lipped. She was certain she revealed more than she should have and more than Wendy probably wanted to hear. But aside from her shrink, she hadn't talked much to anyone. It was as though the wine had opened the verbal flood gates. She hadn't realized she'd had this need to talk; and then with a total stranger. She hadn't talked this much to her doctor. Maybe that was why. No one here would judge her, or if so, no one who would matter.

"What a rat!" Wendy remarked when Samantha finished.

"Yeah. Who knew?"

Just then, two men, thinking they were cool, approached offering to buy the women drinks. Their pick-up lines were no better than any of their predecessors and even less original. When the ladies declined, the men persisted.

Finally, in exasperation, and much to Samantha's surprise, Wendy put her arm around the other woman, pulled her closer, and gave her a hard kiss on the lips. "Does it look like we're interested? Now, leave us alone."

Clearly not expecting that, one of the guys said, "Whatever," and he and his friend backed away.

Still somewhat stunned, Samantha's expression demanded explanation.

"It always works," Wendy said simply.

Samantha nodded hesitantly with a forced smile. Perhaps this was not such a good idea to start over. Then she saw other guys who had been eying the two women seem to lose interest. Wendy obviously knew a trick or two. Samantha relaxed a bit.

"I suddenly find this place has lost its appeal," Wendy said. "I know another place not far from here that is a little quieter."

"I don't know," Samantha grimaced. "I think I've had enough excitement for one night."

With a big grin, Wendy said, "What the hell else do we have to do?" As she said this, she was leading Samantha out of the lounge.

Like a little lost lamb, the divorcee followed. There was something she liked about Wendy, but she wasn't sure what. The woman hadn't really talked much about herself. However, as they walked, it occurred to her that she was accompanying a woman she knew little about, and for all she knew, Wendy could be leading her into some adverse situation. Samantha halted. "No offense, Wendy, but I think I'm going to head on home."

"Oh, come on. I hate drinking alone."

"Well, that's another thing. I don't want any more to drink. And to be absolutely truthful, I don't really know you."

Wendy offered a big, warm smile. "Now, I can't argue with that." She reached into her purse, pulled out an ID card and held it out for Samantha to see. "Doctor Wendy Robinson, at your service. I work at the downtown medical center just a few blocks from where we were."

"I'm familiar with it," Samantha acknowledged. "I'm Deputy Director of Human Resources for Ford Enterprises."

"Yes, I know. I glimpsed your ID in your purse," Wendy admitted. "And just to make you aware, I know Peter Ford, I know the kind of people he hires, and I wouldn't be here with you otherwise."

Samantha giggled. "I'm sorry. I guess I've become somewhat distrustful since my divorce."

"No need to apologize. We girls have to be careful. All kinds of crazy people out there."

"Is that your professional opinion?" Samantha quipped. "Are you a psychiatrist?"

"Heavens, no," Wendy answered as she started walking again with Samantha mindlessly following. "Internal Medicine. Nothing fancy."

"You must be fresh out of med school."

"For a couple of years."

"I can't imagine going to school for that long."

"It is tough, but— Aw, hell."

"What?"

Wendy pointed to their destination. "It's closed for a private party."

"I should have asked where we were going," Samantha said. "I knew that. I actually came here first. I could have saved us a walk. Sorry."

"That's okay. We'll just find someplace else."

"Seriously, Wendy. I really don't want any more alcohol."

"How about coffee? I know a really good place. And we don't have to worry about it being open."

"Oh? Where is that?" Samantha thought to ask this time.

"My place." Wendy started to lead her off.

But Samantha didn't blindly follow this time. "I don't know about that."

"I trust you, Samantha. I wouldn't have made the offer if I didn't. In my profession, I'm a good judge of people. But this time, I'm not going to talk you into it. You're more than welcome, if you want to come. If you don't, I understand."

But in Samantha's position in Human Resources, she also had to be a good judge of people, and right now, she was willing to take a chance on Wendy. She was the first person in months that Samantha really felt comfortable with.

Wendy was obviously a downtown girl: she worked for a medical clinic there, frequented bars and restaurants there, and lived halfway up an impressive high-rise condominium building there. Even more impressive was her luxury two-bedroom unit. It forced Samantha to remark, "Wow, you must come from a wealthy family. Most doctors two years out of med school are deep in debt from student loans."

Looking somewhat guilty, Wendy merely nodded. "They were able to help out," she added. "I have one of those coffee makers with individual pods, so come choose your flavor," she said to quickly change the subject.

Brewed cups of java in their hands, Wendy led Samantha into her living area where they took seats on the sofa. The doctor sat very close to her guest, rendering the latter ill-at-ease. "Well, I've opened up to you," Samantha pointed out, "what's your story?"

Wendy shrugged. "Nothing special. Always wanted to be a doctor. Had the IQ. Fortunately, my parents had the money. Here I am."

"Sounds like everything went your way. You're lucky."

Wendy detected the sadness in her voice. "I take it yours was more difficult."

"Well, it wasn't as fruitful as it sounds yours was, but other than that, it was fine until about a year ago."

"Your fateful anniversary?"

Samantha nodded.

Wendy lifted her coffee cup. "Well, then, here's to your new life. Wish we had something stronger to toast with." She rubbed Samantha's back in a gesture of support and comfort. 

But Samantha found the action more than casual and a little unsettling; particularly since Wendy was slow to remove her arm from around her. Samantha squirmed a bit and the doctor slowly withdrew her arm.

"Sorry," Wendy offered, "it's part of my job to touch people."

That put Samantha more at ease. Of course, she thought, a doctor touches people. "No, I'm sorry. I thought . . . well . . . never mind."

"You thought what?"

"Nothing. It was foolish. Forget it," Samantha nervously said. "As I said before, I'm all messed up from my divorce."

"Still, I'd like to know what you thought," Wendy persisted. "It helps to know someone's perception of something I do."

"It's embarrassing. It's stupid."

"Please?"

With a deep sigh and a shrug, Samantha said, "I thought maybe . . . you were . . . trying to" —she covered her face with her hand— "this is embarrassing. I'm just not thinking clearly."

"You thought I was trying to?"

Hesitantly, Samantha mumbled, "Seduce me."

With a nod, Wendy casually asked, "What if I was?"

Samantha tried to control the shock she felt. "Were you? Are you?"

"What if I was?" Wendy repeated.

"I think it's time for me to go," Samantha said, rising. "Thank you for the coffee. It was nice meeting you."

"Samantha, we're just talking. Please sit down and finish your coffee. We can change the subject. What would you like to talk about?"

"Just give me a straight answer, please."

"Okay. Yes, I was trying to seduce you."

"I'm not a lesbian. Are you?"

"I don't like labels," Wendy informed her. "I don't even like my patients to call me doctor. I do like women."

"And you thought I was easy pickings?"

"You sat next to me." Wendy's tone was calm and not argumentative. "You seemed to need a friend. Yes, I found you attractive. Quite often, women who were tossed aside by a man, as you were, seek the affection of another woman. I took a chance that you were."

"I wasn't."

"Are you sure?" Wendy questioned.

"What do you mean?"

"You're looking for something, Samantha," Wendy diagnosed. "I'm not even sure you know what it is. You need to let someone in. You need a friend." She patted the seat beside her.

A confused Samantha dropped to her seat again.

Wendy lovingly put her arm around her. "I'm not trying to take advantage of you. I don't want to take advantage of you. I want to be your friend, and maybe even something more. Have you ever considered sex with a woman?"

With a frown of something bordering on distaste, Samantha said, "I've never entertained such a thought."

"So, think about it for a minute."

"Well, I mean, I might have seen a movie or two." Then she quickly added. "I don't usually watch pornography."

Lightly resting her hand on Samantha's exposed knee, Wendy asked, "What did you think about it?"

Glancing down uncomfortably at the doctor's hand, Samantha nervously answered, "I guess it was . . . I don't know . . . interesting."

Wendy doubled up her hands on Samantha's knee. She leaned over and gave the other woman a brief, tender kiss on her cheek, but allowed her lips to linger for a moment. "You're really very beautiful," Wendy whispered sultrily. "I can't believe a man let you go."

Samantha's eyes widened.

Wendy pulled back in time to see. 

Fanning herself with her hand, Samantha said, "I'm sorry. I'm a little flustered."

"You don't agree? No one has been telling you how incredible you are?" Wendy allowed her hand to gently travel up and down Samantha's leg a few inches.

"I can't remember when someone has touched my leg like that."

"That's sad." Wendy gave her a short kiss on her lips.

Samantha instinctively kissed back, albeit frowning.

"Just let yourself go," Wendy whispered. "Free yourself to explore. Experiment with your feelings." Her kiss was longer this time.

Samantha was less resistant. She actually had heard elsewhere Wendy's claim that, after being dumped by a man, women sometimes turned to other women. And the kiss was surprisingly nice. And she hadn't felt such affection in a long, long time. What the hell was she thinking?

But still, there was something about Wendy that she liked. And so lost in thought about this was she, that when Wendy swooped in for a third more impassioned joining of the lips, Samantha now kissed back. She also ignored the doctor's more bold exploration of her leg and thigh, although she didn't attempt to go under her skirt. But Samantha did have to pull back when Wendy touched her breasts, even though it was over her dress. "Sorry. I'm a little . . . a little . . ." She took a deep breath.

Merely smiling, Wendy kissed harder, forcing her tongue into Samantha's mouth. 

Mindful that she'd had no romantic attention from anyone, let alone sexual, in over a year, Samantha was succumbing to the affections of this woman. She allowed her tongue to taste Wendy's with trepidation. She also remembered how much she used to enjoy kissing. And this woman's was soft and tender, not rough and chewy like her ex used to do it. She also ignored the hands exploring her body, but was not immune to the arousal she was feeling, an emotion she hadn't been certain she would ever experience again.

However, just as she was adjusting to this euphoria, even beginning to enjoy it, Wendy stopped abruptly and stood. She took Samantha's hand and tugged. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Samantha nervously asked, though she felt she knew.

"A place you've never been to before and you're going to wonder why you never have."

As vague as that was, Samantha, now in such a mixed up state of mind, wondering what she was doing, what she was letting this woman do, why she was letting this woman do it, and yet intrigued enough not to halt it, allowed herself to be dragged into a bedroom. "Whoaaaaa. I don't know about this."

Wendy sat on the bed and tapped a spot beside her. "Come on."

Holding out her other hand, Samantha said, "I'm trembling I'm so nervous. What am I doing?"

"Come on. Just a little pillow talk. Kick your shoes off and relax." Wendy did as she told Samantha, letting her shoes drop to the floor. She fluffed up some pillows for Samantha, who finally complied on both counts. When they were both seated and reclining against the pillows, the doctor asked, "Comfortable?"

Samantha merely nodded. "I'm just a little nervous."

Wendy squirmed closer and twisted slightly toward her new bed partner. She put her hand on Samantha's thigh and reassured, "Nothing to be nervous about." But when she reached up and brushed her palm along Samantha's shoulder and down to her breast, Samantha casually moved it away. "Trust me."

"I'm trying. But this is zero to 60."

Smiling warmly, Wendy again placed her hand on Samantha's chest above her breast.

Samantha raised her arm to stop Wendy, but just as quickly retreated.

However, when the doctor tried to touch between Samantha's legs, she once again moved Wendy's hand away. Trying a different tack, the physician took Samantha's hand and put in on her leg.

The soft skin of Wendy's thigh was nice, so Samantha did not draw back, and in fact, she even tried tentative rubbing.

With Samantha's mind now occupied, Wendy kissed the other woman's face tenderly. And when their lips finally came together, Samantha did not prevent Wendy's persistence to touch her breasts. Once again, Samantha found herself enjoying the kiss, and that in turn, allowed her to find pleasure in having her breasts fondled. And also as before, just as she was relaxing to this new experience, Wendy slowly pulled back and moved from reclining to sitting on her legs. She watched curiously as the doctor reached behind her. "What are you doing?"

"Unzipping your dress. It's okay. Trust me." She did manage to slide Samantha's zipper down to her waist.

Not sure she was ready for this, Samantha got up on her knees with Wendy following suit. But the movement caused Samantha's dress to fall off of her shoulders and gather down around her waist. Wendy quickly removed her own dress and bra. An astonished Samantha could only stare—in awe?—at the doctor's toned body and rounded breasts. In all of her adult life, she had never been alone with a mostly naked woman. Although, with the thong Wendy wore, she might as well be completely nude.


Difficult Choices Ch. 01



Seeing the stunned expression on Samantha's face, Wendy kissed the now exposed parts of her tits not covered by her bra. She then took Samantha's hands and placed them on her own bare breasts.

Samantha realized that, at this point, she should not be surprised by anything Wendy did. She'd never felt another woman's boobs and she found it quite exhilarating. No wonder men liked them so much. She felt the doctor up just as she remembered her husband doing to her, which was probably not the way women touched women, but right now, it was all she knew. Then it occurred to her to caress them as she would want done to herself.

Suddenly, Samantha was fascinated with them, and when she looked up into Wendy's eyes, she accepted the woman's lips without hesitation. She kissed hungrily. And then, when Wendy wanted to remove her dress the rest of the way, she yielded easily by getting down on hands and knees.

Once the garment was off, Wendy kept her in that position. "Relax. I want to touch you."

And somehow, Samantha now didn't mind. 

Wendy explored Samantha's back and rear with palms and fingertips sending chills throughout her bed partner's body. Finally, she pulled her back up on knees where their lips again met. Now stimulated by the kiss, Samantha's hands did some exploring of their own, again fondling Wendy's breasts, but also her shoulders and back. Wendy pulled Samantha's bra straps off of her shoulder, and the latter did not try to prevent the former from reaching around and unclasping the brassiere. When she leaned back to pull it off, the two women were facing each other clad only in panties, Samantha's covering little more than Wendy's.

"You have a beautiful body," Wendy complimented.

"As do you," Samantha heard herself say.

"And now, I have to taste those inviting nipples." She bent and quickly latched lips onto one of Samantha's hard bullets. After a few seconds, she moved to the other.

Samantha had never felt anything so divine. She actually experienced arousal from Wendy's lips. Her husband had not been much of a nipple sucker, and then when he did, it was like his kissing: chewing and biting, though fortunately he never inflicted pain. She tilted her head back pleasurably, and Wendy kissed her again, now using hands on her tits and nipples, twisting the latter and teasingly rubbing the tips. To her surprise, she felt stimulation from the rubbing, never knowing it as an erogenous zone for her.

With Samantha's breathing becoming heavier, Wendy dropped one hand down, gently forcing it under the waistband of Samantha's panties and onto her pussy. Samantha let out a little whimper, and instinctively did the same to Wendy.

With a throaty giggle, Wendy held Samantha's hand on her pussy encouraging her to rub harder. Wendy's fingers diddled with Samantha's clit, and Samantha duplicated the physician's actions.

Wendy had no sense that Samantha was near climaxing, so she stopped and maneuvered Samantha to lay on her stomach. Even though Samantha had alerted herself not to be surprised by anything Wendy did, the one thing she did not expect the doctor to do was literally kiss her ass. She chuckled inwardly at all the times she had used the expression with people, and now, to have someone actually do it was . . . wow!

Of course, it wasn't long before Wendy was pulling Samantha's panties down her legs and off. She briefly had weird feelings again, now at being totally naked with another woman. But when Wendy spread her legs slightly and started licking between them, minutely avoiding her anus, she had something new to think about.

Wendy pulled Samantha back up to hands and knees, wet her finger, and used it on Samantha's vagina and clit.

"Oh, shit!" Samantha exclaimed when she felt a finger slide inside her pussy. Her expletive was because it felt good.

While finger fucking the woman, Wendy moved around to her side and played with her hanging tits with her other hand. Samantha was breathing heavily and moaning, and finding it difficult to hold herself up. Finally, she collapsed under pleasure. Wendy then rolled her onto her back, spread her legs and aimed her tongue at the woman's pussy.

As with everything else, Samantha hadn't thought her husband had been particularly adept at oral sex. Now, with only a few flicks of Wendy's tongue, she knew for sure. The doctor used her tongue with skill and precision.

"Oh, that's amazing!" Samantha cried. She was feeling parts of her pussy touched that no penis had ever made contact with. Her alternating flicking, licking and nibbling on Samantha's clit was driving her wild. "I didn't know this could be so intense."

But Wendy's mouth was too full to comment. However, the doctor did step up her attack, sticking her tongue as far in the other's hole as it would go. 

Samantha's entire body was beginning to tingle. It was almost as though she couldn't keep still. She thrashed her head from side to side as that unfamiliar, but not unknown feeling, the beginning of an orgasm, took hold. With each hand, she grabbed a wad of the sheet, and then started sweating as she exploded with the most incredible feeling she had ever had. She didn't want to breathe for fear of losing it, but the orgasm was lasting way longer than it ever had and she feared passing out. However, it finally subsided and she gasped for air.

Wendy pulled back, grinning with Samantha's pussy juice all over her mouth. Samantha wanted to return the smile but she felt nearly paralyzed. Gradually, motor skills returned, and with it more normal breathing. She'd never even had a workout at the gym that intense. "Oh, gee, I don't know what to say."

"That's okay. I think your body language said it all." Wendy lay on her back beside her new friend.

After a minute, Samantha said, "I feel like I should reciprocate."

"I was hoping you would."

Samantha rolled onto her abdomen supported by her elbow between Wendy's legs. "You'll have to guide me."

So, Wendy took Samantha's fingers, and with palm up, inserted her index and middle finger into her pussy. Wendy grabbed Samantha's wrist pulling it backwards and forwards to give Samantha the idea. While Samantha was sawing away, Wendy used her own index finger to rub her own clit.

Of course, Wendy was already more than aroused from her work on Samantha. She was even surprised when she let her head fall back and she felt Samantha lick her pussy. She withdrew her finger so Samantha could concentrate her tongue on the doctor's clit. And that was all it took for Wendy to have her own very satisfying orgasm. She made some throaty noises and shook her body a little, more than the climax required, but to let Samantha think she had confidently satisfied Wendy more than she had. Wendy was by no means disappointed and did not fake any part of her orgasm. However, knowing of Samantha's initial hesitancy, she wanted the woman to believe this was meant to be.

As they again lay side by side, Wendy pretending to be recovering, she glanced at her partner to discover that the woman had dozed off. As troubled as Samantha was, and as a physician, Wendy was certain her new friend had not had a good night's sleep in some time, so she allowed her the slumber.

Wendy turned slightly to gaze at Samantha. She truly was a beautiful, intelligent woman, and the doctor hoped that this would become more than a one night stand. She really liked Sam—in her mind, she just had to call her that—and really wanted to be her friend.

Awakening with a start, Samantha looked around only to find Wendy staring at her. Samantha frowned, momentarily discombobulated, wondering where she was. And it didn't take long to realize she was nude.

Wendy was smiling softly. "Remember me?"

Suddenly, Samantha did, and a whole lot more. She thought she'd been dreaming, but the growing familiarity of the bedroom and the person lying next to her, provided frightening thoughts that it had been real. "How long have I been asleep?"

"An hour or so, and very soundly. I'm guessing you haven't been sleeping well."

"No. Did we do what I think we did?"

"Don't sound so disappointed. You seemed to really enjoy it at the time."

"That's the problem. I did," Samantha admitted ruefully.

"What's wrong with that?"

"I don't think I want to be a lesbian."

"Trust me. You're not. You're experimenting with different methods of having pleasure. You're becoming open-minded."

With a doubtful look, Samantha pointed out, "You have a very suggestive way of putting things." She looked around for her clothes and saw them on the floor. She looked for something to cover with, and then realized the idiocy of that.

"You don't have to leave."

"Oh, yes, I do," she said decidedly and quickly dressed.

As she headed for the door, Wendy asked, "Can we get together again?"

Samantha shot the doctor a look that reeked of ridiculousness. "Nice meeting you."

* * *

It wasn't extremely late when Samantha arrived home, but she stayed in bed Saturday morning until nearly noon, simply because she simply couldn't get that . . . experience... she didn't even know how to classify it . . . out of her mind. Each time she started thinking it was amazing, exactly what she'd needed, regardless that it was with another woman, she also had feelings of disgust and repulsion. For someone already overly confused by the curves life had thrown her, this was nowhere near a moment of clarity. It was a further plunge into mystification.

Yet, there was still something she liked about Wendy. And that made it all the more perplexing.

What might have been even stranger was that the only person she had any interest in seeing was Dr. Podesta. Unfortunately, today was Saturday.

* * *

The remainder of the weekend had been no less stressful, and the desperation in her voice apparently convinced Dr. Podesta to squeeze her in late Monday morning.

"So, I'm guessing you took my advice and it didn't go well," the psychiatrist surmised.

"That's putting it mildly," Samantha remarked and then described in some detail the events of Friday evening.

"The confusion you're feeling is not unusual. Engaging in any potentially life-changing activity can be a cause of stress. The fact that it was an activity that was contrary to what you thought you should be doing or to what you thought were your beliefs or simply just different from your comfort zone merely added to your tension. From the way in which you described the sequence of events," Dr. Podesta went on, "I'm not getting a sense that you were as put out by what happened as you think you should be."

"Are you saying that I really enjoyed it, but I don't want myself to have enjoyed it?" Samantha asked.

With a shake of her head, the psychiatrist clarified, "I'm saying you might not want to close your mind to something just because it's different than anything you've ever done in your life."

"What exactly does that mean?" Samantha asked, thinking this was making her more confused. "It almost sounds like you think I should do it again."

"You said that, not me. You came to that conclusion, which suggests it's something you want to do. Don't be frightened to try new things."

Samantha wanted to be horrified, but the doctor's words were beginning to sink in. "I'm not sure this is what I expected to come out of this session."

"It rarely is."

"I need to think about this more."

"And do it with an open mind."

* * *

Without realizing it, Samantha's walk back to her office took her right by the downtown medical center. When she saw where she was, she shivered. She wanted to believe it was purely a coincidence, but could her subconscious have guided her here? She shook her head, not knowing what was what anymore. And yet, she found herself walking into the lobby.

Samantha looked around as though she was lost. She spotted a directory on the wall, and beside it hung rows of pictures of physicians in lab coats. Wendy was easy to spot. She was clearly one of the most attractive female doctors pictured. The directory listed her office on the second floor. Well, at least she was who she said she was.

She took a deep breath, but time told her she had to get back to work. And suddenly, walking back to her office, all Samantha Simmons could think of was seeing Dr. Wendy Robinson again.

But she didn't expect it to be so soon. She nearly ran into the door when she saw Wendy sitting in the Human Resources waiting area. Now, she was almost afraid to approach the doctor. But before she could decide what she should do, Wendy spotted her. Suddenly, Samantha wasn't so glad to see her.

Even Wendy approached with trepidation.

"What are you doing here?" Samantha asked, less than graciously.

"Yeah, I guess I'd be a little troubled too," Wendy admitted. "But I really just wanted to make sure you were okay. You were so troubled Friday night. I was concerned about you all weekend. I would have called if I'd had your number."

"You know where I work. You could have called the main Ford Enterprises number."

"I did," Wendy revealed. "They said you were out of the office until noon. So, here I am."

"That's a little freaky."

"No, really. I just wanted to make certain you were okay."

"You could have called back."

Now, it was Wendy's turn to act jittery. "Okay, well, I just . . . wanted to . . . to see you again," she admitted.

"And so you did."

"Right. Okay. Well, you seem well, and obviously I shouldn't be here. I really enjoyed our time together. Hopefully, I'll see you again. Goodbye."

As Wendy headed for the door, Samantha scolded herself for being such a bitch when she wanted to see the woman again as much as the doctor obviously wanted to see her. Samantha hurried after her.

"Wendy, wait."

The physician halted. 

"I'm sorry," Samantha offered. "I don't know what came over me. I actually wanted to see you again also."

With a frown, Wendy said, "Now, it's my turn to me confused."

"The reason I was out of the office this morning is because I was seeing my shrink—sorry, my psychiatrist."

Wendy grinned. "It's okay. We call 'em that too."

Samantha chuckled, and that caused them both to have an ice-breaking laugh.

Samantha further explained, "Apparently, the way I described Friday night to her suggested that I was not as repulsed by it as I thought I was or should be. She further suggested that I might actually want to . . . encounter . . . you again, and that I should think about it open-mindedly."

"Wow! I like her. You should listen to her," Wendy suggested lightheartedly.

"I think I will," Samantha giggled.

"Is tonight too soon?"

Now, that push was coming to shove, Samantha instantly had second thoughts. But she just as quickly shrugged them off, realizing she needed to step out of her comfort zone.

Detecting a hint of apprehension, Wendy suggested, "What do you say we ease into it this time? Let's go to dinner first. There's a nice little Italian place called Russo's that has reinvented itself. It's actually between here and my office. Say six-ish?"

"I love Italian. Sounds perfect."

"Great! See you then." Wendy leaned in and gave Samantha a peck on the cheek before departing.

Samantha didn't expect that, but her frown was no reflection of the thrill she felt. 

* * *

All afternoon, Samantha was as giddy as a schoolgirl going to her first prom. At first, she thought she was being silly, but it dawned on her that her conversation with Dr. Podesta might have been right on; maybe she did really want this. She even had to borrow make-up from three different co-workers to re-do hers since she wasn't going home first.

And then the appointed hour arrived and they met with nervous excitement in the lobby of the restaurant. Once seated, as the wait staff handed out menus and poured water and lit the candle at their table, they merely stared at each other.

Finally, when they were alone, Samantha asked, "So, is this a date?"

"Do you want it to be?"

Samantha shrugged. "I guess I just don't know what to call it."

"We don't have to call it anything," Wendy suggested. "Just two new friends having dinner together."

"That might end up in compromising positions later."

"That will hopefully end up in much more than compromising positions later." Then Wendy added, "I wish I could figure a way to convince you that we don't have to label everything."

"You're right. I need to work on that. I think that might be part of my problem," Samantha admitted. "And in doing so, I worry myself over things I don't think I like the sound of."

"Now, you're talking."

The waiter appeared to take their drink order. Wendy ordered a bottle of white wine for the two of them.

When he moved on, Samantha asked, "So, when did you first realize you . . . favored . . . women?"

Wendy looked off into space, pondering the question. "I guess my earliest recollection is in high school. I was on a double date with a guy I was kinda seeing regularly. The other guy was a friend of his and I didn't know the girl. But I remembered being more interested in her than either of the guys. Of course, I thought I was going crazy. But as time went on, little things started happening that made me realize a liked girls more than guys; sneaking peeks at girls changing in P.E., feeling a closeness with girls, feeling nothing with boys.

"It wasn't until college that it manifested itself. I met a girl I liked, but I had no indications she was into girls also, but it turned out she was. We became friends and eventually admitted to each other the true interest we had in each other. Neither one of us had ever been in any same-sex relationships, so it was awkward for a while. But eventually, it became a thing. Of course, neither of us wanted to 'come out,' as they say, so we kept it quiet. After a couple of years, we drifted apart. We were both concentrating on our education and neither of us wanted to be in a steady relationship.

"In fact," Wendy went on, "I've never been in a steady relationship. There was no time for it in med school. But there were girls that I saw regularly." She leaned closer to Samantha with a more serious expression. "And just so you know, several times throughout college, med school and even since then, there were a few guys I thought I was attracted to, even dated some and had sex, just to make sure. But it was never more than a couple of dates because I quickly lost interest in them."

The waiter brought their wine and poured. He then took their orders; Lasagna for Wendy, Veal Parmigiana for Samantha.

"And so now that you're out of school and established in practice, you're looking to be in a relationship?" Samantha surmised.

"Not necessarily," Wendy answered honestly. "If the right woman comes along; maybe. And to be totally honest, that might or might not be you. I'm not trying to make it you."




Difficult Choices Ch. 01



"I'm glad you added that," Samantha said with some relief. "Because as you didn't take to guys, I might not take to girls."

"I get that you're still in the experimenting stages," Wendy informed her. "But whichever way it goes, and it could go both ways, for what it's worth, I like you and would like to get to know you better and be your friend."

"That would be nice," Samantha agreed. "Can you have female friends who are just friends? And what did you mean by 'it could go both ways?'"

Wendy chuckled at the misconception. "Contrary to what you might think, most of my friends are just friends. There are very few women I am intimate with, and none recently. I don't know what you think," she said, though not offended, "but every woman I meet is not a conquest. Yes, I do have male friends, and what I meant by both ways is that every once a year or so, I like a dick."

Samantha's eyebrows shot up at the last statement. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to suggest that—"

"I know. I just want you to understand that I'm very careful about whom I sleep with, for professional reasons, for hygiene, sexually transmitted diseases, that sort of thing. I really took more of a chance with you than I should have."

"Then why did you?"

Wendy shrugged. "As I told you, you looked like you needed a friend. And the truth is, so did I. It just happened that the more time we spent together, the more I wanted out of it. I don't pick up women in bars. If you hadn't asked to sit next to me, we wouldn't even have connected."

"That's very interesting . . . and comforting."

Their food was served, and as they consumed their meal, they talked about a wide variety of subjects, comparing likes and dislikes. They had many small things in common, such as favoring Italian restaurants, but they also shared an interest in musical theatre, and looked forward to seeing a show together. When they finished, both raving about their dinner, Wendy called for the check and insisted on paying. Samantha strenuously objected, wanting them to go Dutch, but lost out in the end. 

"Well," Wendy said as they left the restaurant, "Would you like to come to my place for . . . coffee?" She said it with a smirk, as though the implication was clear.

With an equal smirk, Samantha agreed.

At this early evening hour, there was still a lot of traffic noises, so it was difficult for the women to talk while walking, but they occasionally stole glances at one another and offered giddy smiles. 

Once in Wendy's condo, she asked, "Do you want coffee or a glass of wine or a liqueur?"

"What are you having?"

"Ever had Grand Marnier? It's an orange flavored cognac."

"I've heard of it, but can't remember ever having it."

As Wendy fetched two small brandy snifters and a brown bottle with a long neck and round body. She poured them each a shot and handed one to her guest. Samantha's eyes widened as the sip she took burned slightly going down, but she liked it.

Awkward silence followed as they enjoyed their after dinner drinks because they had talked about everything at dinner. They were turned facing each other and their gazes into each other's eyes spoke silently of what was to come. Finally, Wendy set her empty glass down, reached up and placed her hand on the crook of Samantha's neck and pressed her lips to her new friend's in a brief but loving kiss. She let her hand travel across Samantha's chest, the top of her breasts and down her arm where the two clasped hands. Then, grabbing Samantha's forearm, she moved in for another kiss. Neither time did Samantha shy away. In fact, she latched on to Wendy's upper arm.

Since her new friend seemed more willing this time, Wendy again let her hand tenderly drop to Samantha's chest and breasts. The longer their lips remained together, the more passionate the kiss became. Wendy pushed the top of Samantha's dress off one of her shoulders, and again, the other woman did not resist. Samantha's hand roamed all over Wendy's arm, shoulder and even her breast, much to the latter's delight.

The women paused to catch their breath, but Wendy's hands could not keep off of Samantha's chest and breasts. Even her lips had to be kissing something, and that was now Samantha's neck and shoulder. Wendy's skirt had risen exposing a goodly portion of her thigh and Samantha reached out to stroke it.

But Wendy wanted more lip action. She pulled Samantha closer, pulling the lightweight sweater she wore down and off. The two embraced as their mouth action kicked into higher gear. On their next break, Samantha attempted to unbutton Wendy's sheer blouse, but only managed a couple before Wendy's hungry lips attacked again.

Finally, when she pulled back again, the two stared intently into each other's eyes and communicated a silent desire. As if on cue, both stood, and Wendy took Samantha's hand and led her into the bedroom. Playfully, she pushed her friend onto the bed and laid her down, jumped on herself, and squatting, set about removing Samantha's sweater the rest of the way. Then as Wendy moved on top to kiss Samantha again, she said, "Sorry. I just can't get enough of your lips. I love kissing you. Just something about you that drives me wild."

But Samantha had no chance to respond before Wendy's lips devoured hers again. Wendy stretched her body out, aligning her pussy with Samantha's, and started rubbing their pelvises through their clothes.

A minute or so later, the doctor raised up pulling Samantha to a sitting position with her. Wendy eased the thin straps of her friend's top off of her shoulders and then lowered her top to expose Samantha's beautiful boobs. She cupped each one and massaged them, rolling her thumbs around on the nipples. Finally, she removed Wendy's top and bra altogether.

Samantha pushed Wendy back to finish unbuttoning her blouse, but the covered buttons were sluggish slipping through the button hole, so Wendy completed the task for her and removed the garment completely. Much to Wendy's surprise, but also to her satisfaction, Samantha kissed the physician's tits through her bra.

Wendy pushed Samantha down onto her back again, and after a brief kiss on the lips, slid down to suck and fondle her nipples.

Samantha threw her head back at the divine sensation of Wendy's oral attention to her breasts. Not only did she caress them lovingly, her sucking and tongue flicking were electrifying. Even running the tip of her tongue around Samantha's areola was exciting. And it occurred to her that only a woman would think to do that. What she loved also was Wendy getting sloppy and just licking her boobs in broad strokes.

Next, Wendy moved down to her feet and lifted a leg in the air kissing her feet and ankles. She did the same with the other leg as a means of spreading Samantha's legs. 

Samantha pulled Wendy closer so she could reach around and unclasp the other woman's bra. Again, unskilled in undressing another woman, Samantha fumbled with the catch, so Wendy merely lifted the bra up and over her head. Both women were now topless. Samantha fondled, sucked and licked Wendy's tits as the other had done to her. She didn't know how good a job she was doing, but assumed it was satisfactory when Wendy grabbed hold of Samantha's head and pulled it tighter against her boobs. Moaning sounds even seeped from Wendy's lips.

Samantha had brought Wendy to a higher state of arousal, causing the doctor to force her friend supine again, but this time to remove her skirt, leaving only her panties on. There was a hint of a wet spot in her nether region. Wendy touched a finger to it and moved it around in a circular motion before applying the full pressure of her palm.

The heady aroma of her friend's pussy had Wendy quickly rising to a position where she could remove her own skirt. Now both clad only in panties, Wendy moved up for a desperate kiss, planting her covered pussy on Samantha's upper thigh and riding it. The action caused Wendy's leg to brush against Samantha's crotch so she had some rubbing, as well. Samantha could feel the area of her thigh becoming more and more moist as Wendy's pussy was obviously becoming wetter. She could also tell that the doctor was on a non-stop trek to orgasm as her rubbing became quicker. Sure enough, half a minute later, Wendy was moaning and crying, tensing and pulsing as she came. She topped it off with a forceful kiss.

But neither did she forget her partner. Without even catching her breath, Wendy squirmed downward latching onto and removing Samantha's panties along the way. Spreading her friend's legs, she shoved her middle finger in as deeply as it would go. Samantha cried out in pleasure and did not object when Wendy removed her finger and offered it to Samantha to lick. Samantha had never done that before, but in her high state of arousal, she sucked the finger as though it was a cock. Wendy then jammed it back into her pussy and finger fucked her while teasing her clit with tongue. Samantha came in seconds with the same intensity her friend had.

But it was only an appetizer. Samantha sat up, pushed Wendy onto her back and removed her panties. Instead of using finger, Samantha took aim with her tongue, stopping close enough to gaze at the woman's beautiful vagina. She'd never really looked very closely at one, certainly not that of another woman. She noticed the delicate folds of skin. In particular, Wendy had a big hood over her clit that was very wet. It was there Samantha took the first swipes with her tongue.

Now, Samantha introduced her fingers and did to her friend what she had done. Samantha inserted a second finger. Wendy propped herself up on elbows to watch. She was so thrilled to be with Samantha again, she had a mini orgasm.

"Here's something I'll bet you've never done," Wendy said. She arranged Samantha on her back and spread her legs, and then she got on her back and squirmed into position so that their pussies were against each other. She held Samantha's hands and explained, "It's called tribbing or scissoring," then demonstrated what to do.

"I think I've seen this done in a movies." Samantha got the idea and the rhythm.

Soon the two women were rubbing their pussies together at a blistering pace.

"This is fantastic," Samantha exclaimed.

"One of my favorite positions, too."

For a minute, only the sticky, slurpy sound of their secretions could be heard, but that was quickly drowned out by their moans and grunts and the exertion necessary to maintain their momentum. But finally, both were rewarded by explosive orgasms, and surprisingly, more wetness as Wendy actually ejaculated.

When they both finished and sat up, they looked down at the gooey mess between their legs and laughed heartily.

"Damn, that was good!" Wendy said.

"Yes, it was!" Samantha agreed.

* * *

And so it went. Samantha had a new significant other in her life—and it was a woman! The two women were seeing each other exclusively, but they stopped short of calling it a steady relationship. 

They usually saw each other once during the week and had evolved into spending their entire weekends together. Samantha's family began to question why she had become so scarce, but she shrugged it off by simply saying, "Just busy." She did have to give up part of a weekend from time to time to visit them, and it turned out, Wendy had to do the same.

Samantha finally arrived at a point where life was worth living again. She had also stopped trying to analyze what she was doing, and even more importantly, had suspended trying to label things. She had no idea where it was all going to go, so she simply decided to enjoy it while it lasted. She even communicated this to Dr. Podesta in what was her final visit with the psychiatrist.

After only a few weeks, Wendy felt she had found her soulmate. She was nearly ready to consider their relationship steady, but she did not think that Samantha was that far along yet. So she put no pressure on her lover for them to be any more than what they were. 

Still, Wendy felt that she was falling in love with Samantha, and would love to be able to tell her, but she refrained from doing that. 

Wendy's biggest fear was that what she and Samantha had would not last. Even though Samantha seemed to have adjusted to their relationship, even appeared to be enjoying it, she sensed that her lover was not totally committed to the lifestyle. 

And so it happened that one of Samantha's best friends, a girl she grew up with and went to school with through high school was getting married. Even though they went to different colleges, they remained in touch. Annette had even asked Samantha to be a bridesmaid and Samantha not only felt obligated, she wanted to be part of it. But in the weeks since she and Wendy had been seeing each other, she had forgotten about it until it was nearly upon her. That now meant giving up an entire weekend with Wendy. She was hesitant to tell her lover, but knew she had to.

"Sammi, don't be ridiculous," Wendy reassured her. "Of course there are going to be times and situations where things like this will be necessary."

Samantha had given in to the nickname. "I wish you could come."

"I do, too. But you know what all your friends and family would probably think if I did. And they'd be right. And you'd have a lot of explaining to do. Do you really want that yet?"

"No," Samantha said disappointedly. "I guess not."

"You go and have a good time with your friends. I'm sure this won't be the first time something like this happens. We might as well face it and become accustomed to it."

Samantha gave her a loving kiss. "Thanks for being so understanding."

* * *

The wedding was great fun starting with the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. It was held at a nice restaurant, though not Italian, and Samantha tried to keep her wine consumption in check. She had a couple more glasses than her usual two, but the food prevented her from becoming drunk. She would have liked to have more, but she didn't.

The day of the wedding, Samantha, Annette and the other three bridesmaids went through the usual hair and make-up prepping, which included several glasses of champagne. Though her head was spinning, she managed to recover enough for the wedding by stuffing food in her mouth at every opportunity.

The wedding was very nice and emotional, but the reception was where all the fun really was. Part of the reason was because there was more champagne. Once again, when her bridal party duties, such as posing for photographs and dancing, did not prevent her, Samantha scarfed down as much food as she could to offset the alcohol.

For the most part it worked, and she was in a mostly sober state of mind when she was approached by the most handsome man she had ever seen. However, she was even more taken aback when he introduced himself as Timothy Lawrence, and with that, she instantly recognized him from high school. Wow, had he changed, she thought. He'd been good looking in high school, but now, twelve, thirteen years later, he had a more refined look and shorter hair. She'd had a crush on him for a while, and they even dated once, but it never went any further.

"Remember me?" he asked in a rich baritone voice.

"I do!" Samantha answered with a big smile. "How are you?"

"I'm great. So, what's it been, a dozen years?"

"At least. I'm surprised you remember me," Samantha said, truly wondering.

"I can't lie," Tim admitted. "I saw you from across the room and thought you looked familiar, so I asked Annette. You've changed . . . for the better."

"So, have you."

A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne flutes. Tim grabbed two and handed her one. Samantha really didn't want any more to drink, but this was Tim Lawrence.

"So, want to find an out-of-the-way table and catch up?" he asked smoothly.

"Sure." Samantha tried not to sound so anxious, but this was Tim Lawrence. As they walked, without him seeing, she unobtrusively tugged down the top of her bridesmaid dress to reveal a bit more cleavage. And when they sat, as he gentlemanly held her chair out for her, she raised the long dress up over her knees, ostensibly to be more comfortable, but also to show off some leg. Of course, she was so overwhelmed that Tim Lawrence was paying her so much attention, she was oblivious to the fact that she was taken by a man.

When he sat, he sat close, seemingly to be heard over the loud music. "So, what have you been up to?"

With a shrug, Samantha said, "Went to college, graduated in Business, got married, went to work in Human Resources at Ford Enterprises, got divorced over year ago, and—" she held out her arms, palms up"—here I am."

"Well, I seem to remember hearing you got married," Tim said pensively. "Bruce Simmons, as I recall."

"Yes. He turned into a real asshole."

"No doubt. Obviously, you're bitter."

Samantha gave a brief description of their tenth anniversary evening. "So, wouldn't you be?"

"Actually, I was. I was married for a few years, but we drifted apart, and she was the one to end it."

Taking a sip of champagne without thinking, Samantha said, "Divorce sucks."

"It does." Tim lifted his glass. "To renewing old friendships."

"Here, here."

They both took healthy swallows and laughed.

However, it was when he asked, "Seeing anyone?" that Samantha nearly felt sick.

It took her several seconds to answer, "No," and she automatically asked, "You?" Suddenly, images of Wendy were vivid in her mind.

He shook his head. "In that case, want to dance?" he asked holding out his hand.

Naturally, it was a slow song, and she took his hand and wondered as he led her onto the dance floor exactly what her relationship with Wendy was. And when Tim wrapped his arm around her and held her hand up in the classic slow dance position, she wrestled in her mind whether or not this was wrong. But they were only dancing. What was wrong with that? Two old friends sharing a dance at a mutual friend's wedding. Totally innocent; except that his hold on her was anything but casual, and the warm feeling that pervaded her was so much more. They didn't really talk while dancing, just held each other tight as though each needed to feel the closeness of the opposite sex because of their failed marriages. 

She looked up into Tim's eyes. They almost sparkled and she nearly melted.

"What happened to us in high school?" Tim asked. "We dated a few times, but it never went any further."

"We only dated once," Samantha corrected, though not argumentatively.

"No." But then he quickly added, "Are you sure?"

"I had a crush on you, Tim," she admitted, somewhat embarrassed. "I would remember if we had dated more than once."

"I'm sorry. Guess I was a fool. Was I an asshole?"

Samantha snickered at his question. "Not really. In fairness, you were popular. A lot of girls wanted to date you. And you did."

"Really? I guess I didn't realize that. I never considered myself popular."

"We're often not the best judge of who or what we really are." The dance ended and he escorted her back to their table. "You might not believe this, but I always liked you."




Difficult Choices Ch. 02



"Do we really want to let go of another opportunity?" Tim asked, following her. 

The magnetism he was exuding was becoming more than she thought she could resist. The problem was, she really did want to go with him. But did she dare? It was just dinner with an old friend. And it was Tim Lawrence. How many more times could she use that justification? Did she really even need to be justifying anything? Wendy had said they still had to have their own lives. 

Still, there was this indescribable feeling inside of her that caused her to finally ask, "Can we at least wait until the bride and groom leave? I feel like I should at least stay to the end." 

"Absolutely," Tim responded happily, breathing his relief. 

And so they did. While waiting, they danced more, and not just slow dances. Although the more slow dances they shared, the more of them Samantha wanted. And not just because it was Tim Lawrence. Strangely, as the minutes wore on, she found herself really enjoying being with . . . a man. 

When Samantha and Tim finally departed, it was in his vehicle. Her car was at home because they had all ridden in a limousine. So, she asked, "You mind if we stop at my apartment so I can change into something less formal? It's more or less on the way." 

"Doesn't matter where it is. That will be our first stop." As he drove, Tim asked, "So, you didn't get the house?" 

"Didn't want it—or the memories. Couldn't have afforded to keep it up, anyway. You?" 

"She got it. I didn't need anything that big." 

Samantha caught him stealing glances at her as they rode. She caught him because she was stealing glances at him. But in the back of her mind, she was also thinking about Wendy. She couldn't shake the feeling that what she was doing was somehow wrong. And if that wasn't bad enough, she was beginning to have fears that people at the restaurant would recognize her and maybe even ask where Wendy was. However, she was also reminded that Wendy was constantly telling her that she needed to be happy because for so long she had not been. Right now, she was happy; very, very happy. 

"By the way, you never told me what you do for a living?" Samantha finally thought to ask. 

"I own a small computer consulting company. We set up networks, handle hardware, and do repairs. I have five other guys and a couple of girls who work for me." 

"Oh, that's impressive." It really was. "Maybe you can take a look at mine while I change. It's gotten miserably slow." 

"My pleasure." 

By then, they had arrived and she led him in. "It's not much, but for now, it's home." Samantha had never had the interest to decorate her apartment with pictures and knick-knacks that women usually like to adorn their homes with; like Wendy had done with her condo. But Samantha didn't intend to live here forever, and so, she didn't want to spend much time, money and effort on it. In addition, she seldom had visitors. Even Wendy had only been here a couple of times. The two women generally preferred the comfort of the condo. 

"As long as you're comfortable. Mine is pretty much the same." 

"Well, I don't plan to be here forever. The computer is in the spare bedroom." She led him down the short hallway where they parted, him to the computer, her to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her. 

Now, what to wear, Samantha wondered. Tim was still nicely dressed in a suit, so she couldn't get too casual. Rooting through her closet, she found a nice sweater-type shirt that buttoned up the front and a light-colored, short skirt. It wasn't fancy, somewhat casual, but not out of place with his suit. And best of all, she had never worn it with Wendy. 

Samantha found him intently staring at the computer monitor. "Bad?" She pulled another chair next to him and sat fairly close. 

"I don't think so," he said, giving her a quick glance, but doing a double-take after glimpsing her cleavage and legs all in one look. "Wow! You look fantastic!" 

"Thank you," she beamed. "So, what does it look like?" 

"How long have you had this computer?" 

"A couple of years," Samantha answered with a shrug. 

"Have you ever done a defrag?" 

"What's that?" 

Tim smiled over her common response to that question. "Information on your hard drive gets separated for a variety of reasons. It gets fragmented. So, periodically, you need to run software that defragments your files and puts them back together. If you've never done it or had it done, over time, your computer can slow down. So, we'll try to defrag it and see if that solves your problem." Throughout his explanation, Tim had been devouring her with his eyes. She had grown into an incredibly beautiful woman. He couldn't believe any man would let her go. He couldn't help peaking at her cleavage and all the leg exposed by her short skirt. 

Samantha could see him checking her out and was glad he was interested. Without thinking, she leaned closer and pecked him on the cheek. "Thank you so much. How long will it take?" 

Surprised by her show of gratitude, he faced her. "It'll take hours, but we don't have to wait. It can run until it finishes." 

"Oh," Samantha said almost disappointedly, gazing dreamily into his eyes. 

"Yeah," Tim acknowledged, nearly as stunned as she was. 

Samantha impulsively leaned in and kissed him—on the lips this time. He kissed back. Then she pulled back abruptly, covering much of her face with her hands in embarrassment. "I'm sorry." 

"You didn't hear me complain." This time, he kissed her. 

They both let it escalate. This included touching: hands on thighs, arms, shoulders. Eventually, his hand approached her breast. She had no resistance to stop it. And worse, she couldn't prevent her own hand from traveling up his thigh and nearly connecting with his growing bulge. He couldn't help touching her breast; she couldn't help enjoying it. She didn't even stop him from unbuttoning a couple of buttons on her blouse. She did the same on his shirt, except she undid all, not just a couple. 

Samantha stopped and stood. Throwing caution, rational thinking and all other concerns to the wind, governed only by growing passion and uncontrollable desire, she pulled him up also. "Let's go someplace more comfortable." Leading him into her bedroom, she playfully pulled his shirt completely off, dropping it on the floor. 

In her bedroom, she crawled on the bed backwards with him following. Their lips came together again. They were both hot and the kiss intensified; so much so, Tim pulled her top apart to expose more of her breasts. Samantha desperately wanted to feel his hands on her tits, and he did not disappoint. She actually appreciated the firmness of his touch, unlike the tenderness of Wendy's. Likewise, he sucked on her nipples with determination. He used the tip of his tongue with surprising expertise on the flat of her nipples and areola, rivaling even Wendy's skill. 

Tim was moving fast, now easing down to undo her skirt. Samantha liked his pace, again the opposite of Wendy's. He quickly removed the skirt, but left her panties. Spreading her legs, he went between them to kiss her lips, and then enjoy a few more sucks of her nipples. 

Urgency dictated that he mouth her pussy through her underwear. Even with the thin material between her crotch and his tongue, it felt spectacular. He continued to tease her in this manner for seemingly long seconds, finally pulling a leg hole aside. The touch of his tongue against her bare pussy was electric. As she had previously realized during sessions with Wendy, there was a difference in the way men and women ate pussy. It now occurred to her that whomever was doing it at the moment was best. Still, there was something to be said about his unique forcefulness. 

Finally, he pulled her panties off. It had the effect of freeing her, emboldening her to rise up to stand on her knees and playfully push him down onto his back. Samantha attacked Tim's belt and zipper, eagerly pulling his pants down, but only far enough to free his sizeable erection. She had not seen one of these in quite some time, and like an addict relapsing, she had to have it, as though it was her last supper. 

Samantha licked from his scrotum up to the mushroom tip of his cock before taking the head into her mouth and swirling her tongue around the rim. She went up and down his shaft covering it with a thick coating of saliva, loving the firm feel against her tongue. When she stopped to catch her breath, she also hurriedly pulled off her shirt and bra in one motion before shoving it back in her mouth. She separated his pee hole with the tip of her tongue, then did what she could to it. When she felt him shiver because of it, she smirked to herself, pleased with her skill. She then went down again as deep as his circumcision scar and ran her tongue forcefully along that soft skin on the underside below the corona. 

Now, Tim moaned. "Oh, yeah!" 

Samantha had no idea where her sudden expertise was coming from because she hadn't done this in so long. She seemed to recall that her ex-husband claimed she really wasn't that good at it. It occurred to her that maybe she just hadn't had enough interest in doing it very well for him. His cock sure as hell wasn't as nice as Tim's. 

"Oh, fuck," he groaned. 

"Don't worry," Samantha quipped, "I'm sure we'll get to that." For some reason, she had never really enjoyed oral sex, but right here, right now, she really was. A penis you could put in your mouth, a pussy you couldn't. 

Sitting up on her legs to once again catch her breath, Samantha tugged on Tim's pants and underwear. He assisted by kicking them off the rest of the way. Now, both were completely nude, and they took a moment to silently appreciate each other's body. 

Feeling aggressive, Samantha pushed Tim back down on his back and straddled him just below his cock. She bent her upper body to kiss him again and he held her face gently in his masculine hands. She could feel his hard dick pulsing and bouncing against her abdomen. It made her sit up, reach down, grab that mad monster and guide it into her desperate pussy. They both let out longing sighs when she sank down on it. She just sat on it for a moment and felt it breathing inside of her. She couldn't believe how much she had been missing this. 

Samantha bent forward, rocking her pelvis, sliding his delicious cock in and out. Tim was pumping his hips to meet her thrusts. She kept her pace slow, wanting to feel him touch every part inside her, and she couldn't help allowing little cries to escape her lips with each movement. 

This was even better than the missionary position as far as Samantha was concerned. She'd rarely had the opportunity to be on top with her ex—he didn't like it. But now, she felt like a jockey atop a fiery steed. She could control pace and angle—and she did. She could even stop and let him do all the work. Fortunately, Tim seemed content to go along. 

But after a few minutes, Samantha wanted to try something else she'd rarely done: 69. With a giggle, she stopped and turned her body around, sitting on his face and rotating her hips to rub her pussy all over his face. He chuckled good-naturedly, but didn't hesitate to let his tongue find her wet snatch. She grabbed his cock at the base, held it straight up, and engulfed it in her mouth. It was fun for a minute or two, but because of their height differences, they didn't quite match up evenly. 

Tim sensed the same inconvenience so he slid her down his trunk and then rolled her onto her side facing away from him and entered her somewhat from behind. 

"You fuck good!" she heard herself say. 

"Right back to you." 

For the moment, Samantha was content to just lay there and let Tim plow away. She cupped her own tits and pulled and tweaked her nipples. They were both lost in concentration over what they were doing. 

Not content to remain inactive for too long, Samantha rolled onto her back and let him take her missionary—she did like the position, but also liked variety. With his forearms, Tim drew her legs back against her chest and kissed her moaning lips. He then knelt up and fucked her harder. He held her lower legs up in the air as he pumped. 

Then she started to feel it; the tingling signaling her impending orgasm. She concentrated on the sensation of his cock sliding in and out. She reached down with her fingertip to supplement it by rubbing her clit. Most of all, she thought about the fact that she was going to come from a penis, and not just any penis, Tim Lawrence's penis. And that pretty much is what brought her over the edge to a blistering climax. Her entire body tensed in those seconds before, and then like magic, there was the release of . . . whatever was released to give her the most incredible pleasure she had ever known. 

Without even catching her breath, she huffed, "Come for me, babe. I want you to come for me, on me. I want to see you come." 

Tim thrust faster. "You want me to come on you?" 

"Yes! Now! Come on me!" 

He was grunting with gritted teeth, pumping at a frantic pace. And then he suddenly stopped, pulled out, and with his eyes closed in intense concentration, he pumped his beautiful cock with his hand. Samantha was all grins as she felt the thick, warm liquid land on her chest and abdomen. It was divine! Couldn't get that from a woman! By the time his last drop dribbled out, she was laughing with joy. 

Tim opened his eyes and joined in, also thrilled by their coupling. He rolled onto his back beside her. "Where have you been all my life?" 

"Where indeed," Samantha said, as thoughts of Wendy danced in her head. 

* * * 

The phone rang several times before it penetrated her deep sleep. Samantha finally scooped it up without checking the caller ID. 

"Must have been one hell of a wedding," the caller commented. "I thought I would have heard from you by now." 

Samantha was barely listening, having not yet ascended from that groggy state that lingered from being awakened abruptly. But the sound of Wendy's voice shocked her into a more alert state. She held the cell phone away from her face to quickly check the time. With the light streaming in from the windows, she assumed the one o'clock was afternoon. Realizing she had slept so late was stunning in itself. "Uh, yes it was," Samantha finally said, in a dry, hoarse, stuporous voice." 

"And it sounds like you might have really enjoyed it." 

Gradually coming out of it, Samantha said, "Yes, I did." It was then that her nakedness caused her to think about what she had done before drifting off to sleep, whenever that was, and she instantly glanced at the empty space beside her in bed. She wondered where Tim was. She started to smile at the thought of him and what they had done, but Wendy spoke again, erasing the images in her mind. 

"Did I wake you?" 

"Yes." 

"I'm sorry. Want me to call back later?" 

"No, no. I didn't plan to sleep this late." 

"Did you get to bed late?" 

That depends on what part of getting to bed you meant, Samantha humorously thought. Certain Wendy meant the sleeping part, Samantha responded, "Yes." And then added honestly, "But I don't remember what time that was." 

"Are you hung over?" 

"No. I paced myself. We just partied after the reception. People I hadn't seen in years." 

"That's nice. I was calling to see if you wanted to come over." 

Samantha thought about that, and though she really had nothing much to do the rest of the day, after last night, she wasn't ready for the transition. "If you don't mind, I'm going to stay home and recover. Plus, I've got to wash clothes, straighten up around here and attempt to go to the grocery. My cupboards and refrigerator are bare." 

"Okay." 

Samantha could hear the disappointment in her friend's voice and felt bad. 

"Well, if you change your mind," Wendy said, "call me." 

"Okay." When she turned to put her phone back down on the night table, she saw a piece of paper. Picking it up, she saw Tim's name. 

"So, glad we reconnected. Had a wonderful time. Hope we can get together again. Sunday is lunch with the folks, home to change first. Computer defrag done—should work better now. Tim." 

Samantha felt a warm, tingly feeling. He was so thoughtful to leave a note. She also was pleased by their sex last night. He was good in bed. It was wonderful to have a man again. But now, as she thought about Wendy, she still liked what the two of them had. Was it possible to have both? Would either tolerate her seeing the other also? She knew Wendy hated labels, but that aside, would this make her bisexual? 

Every time her life became simple, it seemed as though something came along to complicate it. 

Samantha stayed in bed for another fifteen or twenty minutes until she felt she was fully awake. She thought a shower would rejuvenate her. However, it only served to relax her more. She threw on a clean pajamas, and lazily performed the chores she told Wendy she had to. This took her to early evening, at which time she realized she was famished. She hadn't eaten since the wedding, and she and Tim had never made it to Russo's. 

Samantha had not been lying to Wendy. She was dangerously low on groceries, but she was too tired to dress and go to the grocery, so she scoured her pantry and refrigerator for anything to eat. There was a can of soup in the former and a frozen meatball and spaghetti dinner in the latter. The Italian meal made her again think of Russo's. 

The restaurant brought a smile to her face, and she thought she could really enjoy a meal from there right now, but she had no energy to go there, nor would she really go alone. The problem was, she didn't even know who she would most like to go there with: Wendy or Tim. 

These musings made her decision of a meal an easy one as she reached for the frozen dinner. But before she could even rip open the box, there was a knock at the door. Frowning in wonder about whom it might be, Samantha headed toward the front entrance. 

She wasn't really surprised that the peephole revealed her visitor to be Wendy, but a small part of her was disappointed that it wasn't Tim; although she doubted he would come without calling first. Acting surprised, Samantha opened the door. "Well, hey," she greeted with a big smile. "This is a nice surprise." 

Returning the smile, Wendy held out a bag. "I brought you dinner. Somehow you didn't sound like you were going to make it to the grocery." She held the bag out for Samantha to take. 

"Aren't you going to come in?" 

"You also sounded like you wanted to be alone." 

Samantha reached out, grabbed Wendy's arm and pulled her in. "Don't be silly. Come in. You're right. I didn't make it to the store. I was just about to heat my last frozen dinner." 

"What kind?" 

"Meatballs and spaghetti." 

"You're not going to believe this, but that's exactly what I brought . . . from Russo's." 

With a giggle, Samantha said, "You're not going to believe this. I was thinking that I could really enjoy something from Russo's, so that's why I selected frozen meatballs and spaghetti instead of my only other choice: a can of soup." 

Now, it was Wendy's turn to laugh, and the two came together and hugged, and suddenly, Samantha was glad her friend had come, and not just because she'd brought food. 

While they ate—Wendy had also had the good sense to bring a bottle of red wine— Samantha told Wendy about the wedding, reiterating that she had connected with friends from school whom she hadn't seen since then. But she did not specifically mention Tim. However, it was hard not to think about him while talking about the wedding. 




Difficult Choices Ch. 02



But Wendy had to ask, "Any guys there you wish you could have another chance with?" 

Forcing her mind to conceive an answer that would not give anything away, Samantha answered, "I can't say that there was." That was a very deceptive answer that could be interpreted as, there was, but I can't say it. Samantha simply was not ready to discuss it. To quickly change the subject, making it sound casual, she asked, "So, what did you do?" 

"I worked in the Urgent Care Clinic yesterday," Wendy reported. "The powers that be like us to do that occasionally so we don't become lazy and complacent." 

"Sounds like fun," Samantha remarked with a facetious grin. 

"It can be." 

Topping off each of their wine glasses, Samantha said, "Go make yourself comfortable while I clean up." She watched Wendy rise from the table and head off to the bathroom. Undoubtedly, her friend probably wanted sex. When she had called this afternoon Samantha had thought she'd wanted some transition time, but upon reconsideration, perhaps it might be good to see if she would still enjoy doing it with a woman. 

A few minutes later when she finished cleaning up the kitchen, Wendy had not reappeared in the living room. Heading down the short hallway, the bathroom door was open, so she moved on to her bedroom. She wasn't surprised to see her friend in her bed leaning against pillows propped against the headboard. Fortunately, Samantha had washed the sheets and made the bed, so all evidence of the night before had been eradicated. 

Looking up, Wendy spread her legs and patted the space between them. 

Not sure what her friend wanted, Samantha complied, easing into the offered spot, but with her back to Wendy and leaning against her. The doctor pulled her friend's hair back and placed her hands on the woman's shoulders. 

"So, do you miss having a penis?" 

"I never had one in the first place," Samantha quipped. 

"You know what I mean," Wendy said, with a polite giggle. 

Frowning because she knew Wendy couldn't see, Samantha pointed out, "You already asked me that." 

"No, I asked if you reconnected with any guys you wanted a second chance with." 

"Well, I guess my answer would be the same. Why? Are you worried?" 

With a shake of her head, Wendy explained, "I was just thinking that if the wedding had stirred something in you, we could get a strap-on." 

"A strap-on?" 

"Yes. It's a—" 

"I know what it is." This wasn't where Samantha had thought the conversation was going. "Why? Do you want to get one? Have you ever used one?" 

"I was with a girl one time who had one and used it on me." 

"Did you like it?" 

"It was a different way to have an orgasm." Wendy had been massaging Samantha's shoulders. 

"It seems to be that if you want penetration, you might as well have a real cock." 

"A real cock is attached to a real man," Wendy noted. "I rarely have use for one of those. Besides, a strap-on stays hard." 

"Not even just to get off?" Samantha wanted to know. 

"Like I said, very rarely. Besides, guys just have to make it complicated." 

"Maybe you just haven't come across the right one," Samantha suggested, becoming very relaxed. "Maybe there's a guy out there like you who just wants simple sex with no strings or complications." 

Wendy softly ran her hands down Samantha's arms. "A guy is just not important to me. If I want penetration, I have dildos." 

"I tried those after my husband and I split," Samantha admitted. "Didn't really care for it. Just hard metal or plastic." She felt as though she could fall asleep cradled in Wendy's arms, and in fact, hadn't realized her eyes were closed when she felt her friend kiss her forehead. With effort, she tilted her head further up and smiled. 

Wendy kissed her again as her hands traveled over Samantha's chest and on to caress her breasts. Samantha tilted her head up more and their lips met. Undoing a couple of buttons on Samantha's pajama top, Wendy was able to cup bare tits, eliciting a satisfied moan. The doctor then undid all of the buttons and spread the flaps apart to completely expose Samantha's breasts. 

Samantha pulled herself up so their heads were at the same level, and so they could kiss better. Wendy also massaged Samantha's breasts a while longer, finally completely removing her pajama top. Wendy's hand then found its way to the drawstring of her friend's pajama bottom. She tugged on it to loosen it thus allowing her hand to slide under the elastic waistband where she found a moistening pussy. 

After only a few seconds, it felt so good that Samantha loosened the string even more to remove her pajama pants entirely. Despite whatever thoughts she'd had about Tim and being with a man, one fact she could not deny: Wendy knew how to make her horny—even as tired as she was. Wendy slid out from behind her pushing her down onto her back so the doctor could tug the pajama pants down and off. 

It was then that Samantha noticed that Wendy had apparently removed her own pants before making herself—or as part of making herself—comfortable. As she pulled her own top off, she had either come braless, or had removed it and put her shirt back on. 

Wendy spread her friend's legs and gently inserted a couple of fingers in Samantha's wet pussy. But the latter only allowed her friend to finger fuck her for a minute or so before sitting up and pulling Wendy's panties down. The doctor quickly assisted in removing them completely. Both on their knees, their lips again came together in a tender kiss. 

There was so much to be said for being bisexual, Samantha thought: intense fucking with a man and tender loving with a woman. If she could get Tim and Wendy together for a threesome, life would be complete. As Samantha bent to suck one of Wendy's nipples, she wondered what Tim's reaction would be if he knew of this relationship with another woman. Somehow, she felt he'd react better than Wendy would. 

Now Wendy became the aggressor again and forced Samantha supine once more. She licked her fingers, and Samantha anticipated more finger fucking. Instead, Wendy rubbed the other's pussy with the saliva and then did the same to her own snatch. She then straddled one of Samantha's legs and positioned herself to rub their pussies together. This was one exercise Samantha had come to really enjoy. The saliva wasn't necessary; they were both wet enough. And it was definitely something she couldn't do with a man. The soft bed made the tribbing all the more effective. It didn't take much for them to come together in deeply satisfying orgasms. 

But Wendy couldn't wait too long afterward to taste the fruit of their climax. And after a few licks, Samantha wanted her sample. When she looked up with her face smeared with their cum cocktail, Wendy grinned and pulled her up. She licked the goo off before mashing their lips together. They were in a missionary-like position, and Samantha could feel Wendy's pussy pressing against hers so she naturally started rubbing, and within seconds, the two were grinding their vaginas again, and as before, they each had a fulfilling orgasm. 

Once their heavy breathing subsided, they lay next to each other facing each other. 

"That was so good," Wendy purred. "I really needed that." 

"Yes, it was. You really know how to light my fire." 

"I'm glad. I like being with you." 

"I like being with you, too." Samantha had to caution herself not to become too committal what with a Tim lurking in the shadows. 

"But," Wendy said, slipping out of bed, "tomorrow is a workday." 

"You're leaving?" 

"Yeah," Wendy grimaced. "Big staff meeting early in the morning before we start seeing patients." Once dressed, she bent over and kissed Samantha passionately. "Call you tomorrow." 

Basking in the afterglow of what turned out to be an enjoyable evening, which was actually the culmination of a spectacular weekend, Samantha drifted off to sleep somewhat confused that she had experienced fantastic coitus with a man for the first time in months and was also extremely satisfied by the unexpected pleasure of sex with a woman. Her confusion arose out of the notion that she should enjoy one more than the other, and that the one should be hetero-sex since that is what she had grown up with. But she found that she would be hard-pressed to choose one over the other. 

On the other hand, Samantha wondered why she couldn't just be happy enjoying it both ways. 

* * * 

Her phone rang and she scooped it up like she always did expecting it to be an employee with a human resources issue. Samantha was pleasantly surprised by the familiar baritone voice. 

"Hi, Samantha," Tim nervously greeted. 

Hi, yourself," she responded in a suddenly satiny tone. 

"I hope I'm not calling too soon." 

Samantha frowned. "Too soon? What do you mean?" 

"Well, we were just together Saturday night—" 

"And Sunday morning," she added with a devilish grin. 

That seemed to unnerve him. "Yes. Well, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you and, well, I, I would like, that is, I was wondering if we could get together again." He quickly cleared his throat. 

Trying not to sound too eager herself, Samantha said, "I think I'd like that. When did you have in mind?" 

"I'm completely open. How's your schedule?" 

"The same." 

"Oh, well, good." Tim paused for a second, thinking. "Well, uh, is tonight too soon?" 

"Tonight would be just fine." 

"Shall we make another attempt at Russo's?" 

With a grimace, Samantha said, "Actually, a girlfriend of mine brought take-out from there last night, so I'm game for anything but Italian." 

"I understand. How about seafood? Portofino is on the waterfront. It's got an Italian name, but it's really not Italian." 

"Sounds perfect." 

"What time would you like me to pick you up?" 

Samantha thought for a second. "I'll need to run home first." 

"No problem. Say six?" 

"See you then." 

When she hung up, Samantha felt a rush of excitement. And then the phone rang again, but this time it was her cell. The caller ID revealed it was Wendy. On a high because she was going to see Tim after work, she decided not to answer. 

* * * 

An employee matter arose late in the afternoon causing Samantha to barely beat Tim home. Seeing that she was a bit frazzled and hearing the reason for her delay, he assured her that time was of no importance. However, upon greeting him at the door, Samantha was at once smitten by his dazzling appearance and plotted in her mind that they would be each other's appetizer. 

She excused herself to quickly change, and again, he told her to take her time. She closed the door to her bedroom, although she wasn't sure why. They had obviously been intimate enough for it to be unnecessary. 

"How's the computer working?" she heard him ask through the door from down the short hallway. 

"Haven't used it since you fixed it," Samantha shouted back having stripped down to her lacy white bra and string panties. She considered what to change into; something sexy, but as she shuffled through the clothes in her closet, standing in her underclothes only served to heighten her arousal, but didn't produce any appealing apparel. For good measure, she rummaged through a couple of drawers; however, it wasn't until she came across a pair of sheer white thigh-high stockings that naughty thoughts filled her head. 

Without further thought, Samantha slipped them on and studied herself in the full-length mirror. She liked what she saw. 

"You don't have to get all dressed up," Tim said through the door. "You looked just fine." 

With a devilish grin, Samantha asked, "Are you sure?" 

"Positive. I'll take you any way you are." 

Climbing on the bed, she stood on her knees. "Is this overdressed?" 

"May I come in?" She could tell he was right outside the door. 

"Of course." 

When Tim entered, Samantha was running her finger up and down her bra strap. If he was shocked, he didn't show it, and instead, sat on the foot board. "Well, it certainly is seductive. I particularly like the stockings. Never understood why women stopped wearing them." 

"I'll wear them for you any time you like," she purred seductively. 

Tim walked around to the side of the bed. Samantha reached out and slipped her four fingers into the slat between two buttons on his shirt and pulled him closer. He knelt on the bed facing her. 

"So, I guess we won't be dining out again tonight," Tim surmised. 

"Not necessarily. Maybe this is just an appetizer. Would you like a taste?" 

He leaned in and kissed her. "Yum." 

As she had Saturday night, she liked the firmness of his kiss in contrast to the delicate method of Wendy's. Strangely, she realized at the moment, she felt no guilt about her "girlfriend." It was as though—how did the old song go?—she loved the one she was with. 

Tim cupped her breasts in each of his hands while kissing her neck and back up to her lips. This time it was more passionate. He let his hands travel down her sides where he palmed each of her ass cheeks before slowly moving up her back until he encountered the clasp of her bra. Samantha giggled as he deftly unhooked it and removed it. He then sucked each nipple lovingly, manly. 

"You have such beautiful breasts," Tim commented. "And tasty, too. Good choice of appetizer!" 

With a giggle, Samantha said, "Then indulge yourself." She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. 

His mouth never left one of her nipples as he lowered her to a supine position. By now, she had managed to undo all of his buttons. He removed his shirt before pressing his chest to hers. Kissing again, Samantha deftly undid his belt, pants and zipper. Rolling him onto his back, she slid down. She fished out his magnificent cock to enjoy her own appetizer. But with only the shaft poking out of his underpants, she wanted more, so he assisted her by pushing his pants and underwear down to his knees.  

Now, she became aggressive in sucking his dick. As she concentrated on what she was doing, Samantha's mind wondered what it was about Tim's penis that made her so enjoy mouthing it. 

"You're good," Tim couldn't help telling her. "But I can't wait to be inside you." 

"And I can't wait to have you inside me. So, let's just skip on down." 

Tim didn't wait for her to take further action. He quickly turned her on to her back and yanked what there was of her panties off, but left her stockings on. He'd never fucked a woman in just stockings and it was a real turn-on. As soon as her panties were off, she spread her legs, and a second later he was sliding his cock in. They moaned together in two-part harmony. But as urgent as they seemed to be he pumped slowly wanting to feel every part of her. Leaning down, he kissed her lips, and then sucked her nipples before she urged him to go quicker. 

As charged up as she was, the faster pace had her coming in seconds. The thrill of making her achieve a quick orgasm also served as additional stimulus for Tim. He had to hurriedly pull out and spend himself on her abdomen in a copious amount. 

Though Samantha's eyes were closed as she enjoyed the last sparks of her own orgasm, she was smiling happily that they had both come so rapidly. She could feel his shaft still pressed against her vagina, so she pumped her hips against it. He got the message and held it there for her use. 

"Stick it back in," she commanded. 

Tim complied, pleased with himself that he was maintaining his erection after climaxing. But he quickly pulled out and lay on his side. He turned her so he could enter her from behind. Again, she thrust slowly, leisurely. Since they had both orgasmed, there was no more urgency. Now, the relaxed pace was actually more enjoyable. Samantha reached out to touch Tim wherever she could; arms, chest, abdomen. He then reached out and held her hand, a simple gesture, but in these conditions, it was a huge stimulus, and she could feel herself building again. 

Samantha's second orgasm was gentle, relaxed and as enjoyable as any other she'd had, and it was surprising that she was able to come again so quickly. But what was even more surprising was when Tim pulled out and rubbed his cock against her stockinged leg and oozed out a small stream of semen. 

"I'm sorry," he quickly offered. "I'll buy you a new pair, but that's never happened to me before." 

"Coming on a woman's stocking?" A perplexed Samantha asked. 

"No. Coming twice! And it was fantastic!" 

"Yes, it was. For me, also." 

"Wow! That was exciting." 

Samantha and Tim turned sharply toward the door to her bedroom to find Wendy standing there, her stern expression a stark contrast to her comment. 

"Wendy, what are you doing here?" Samantha asked, attempting to cover up. 

"You seemed to really enjoy my surprise visit last night, so I thought you might like it again tonight." There was no pleasantry in her voice. "And really? After all we've done, you're going to cover yourself?" 

"What's going on here?" Tim asked, his cock rapidly shriveling up. 

With a deep breath, Samantha explained, "This is my friend, Wendy." 

"The one who brought you Russo's last night?" 

"You know about me?" a surprised Wendy asked. "'Cause I don't know anything about you." 

"That's all I know," Tim answered. "Samantha, I have a feeling there's more here than it seems." 

"Way more," Wendy added. "And you are?" 

Stunned, Samantha finally forced herself to speak. "This is Tim Lawrence. We dated in high school and reconnected at the wedding." 

"And yet, you said that there wasn't any guy there you wanted a second chance with." 

"That was true at the time I said it," Samantha said, stretching the truth. 

Fighting back a tear, Wendy said, "You know, Sam, there was never anyone I really wanted to have a steady relationship with before you came along. And recently, I thought, with you, I did. But I hesitated to mention that because I didn't think you were committed to the lifestyle. Guess I was right. See ya." She turned to leave. 

"Wendy, wait!" Samantha called out, slithering out of bed, now unconcerned about her nudity. But she couldn't catch up with Wendy before the doctor made it out of the apartment, and Samantha obviously couldn't go after her. 

When she returned to the bedroom, Tim was sitting on the edge with the sheet pulled over his groin. 

He could see that the scene had upset her, but he didn't like what he had heard and the implication of it. "So, I think you owe me an explanation." 

Looking dejected, Samantha took a deep breath and sat on the bed, but not close to Tim. "For a year after my divorce, I lived this mundane life. Didn't go anywhere, date anyone, nothing. My mother forced me into counseling where I was encouraged to start living my own life again. To begin that, I was urged to go have a nice dinner out. But I didn't want to do that alone, so I just went to a lounge for a drink. I was hit on by a bunch of sleazy guys, so I took a seat at the bar next to a woman who was also alone. Wendy. We got to talking and took a liking to one another." 

With another deep breath, Samantha went on. "Turns out she's a lesbian, and after a few drinks, my resistance was low and I succumbed to her advances. I hadn't had sex in over a year, and so, subconsciously, I guess I was desperate for any kind. And it was different in a gentle sort of way, and I guess it was what I needed. I didn't want to become a lesbian, but Wendy hates labels and convinced me to think of it as an alternative way of having sex. We became good friends and—" 

"Continued having sex," Tim filled in. 

"Yes. And then I saw you at the wedding and remembered high school and how I felt about you. And you asked me to dinner. And we came here and . . . and—" 




Difficult Choices Ch. 02



"Had sex." 

"Fucked! And it was magnificent. The best sex I'd ever had with a man. But there was still something nice about sex with Wendy; about sex with a woman. It's . . . it's . . . it's just different." 

Looking confused, Tim asked, "Are you saying one is not better than the other?" 

Fearful of where this was going, but knowing her failure to disclose had hurt her, Samantha answered, "What we just did was phenomenal. But last night with Wendy was really good, too." Now, he appeared a bit put out, so she added, "Is that a blow to your ego?" 

Tim shrugged. "I've never been in competition with a woman. I'm not really sure how I feel about it or how to handle it." 

"Well, that's honest." Now, she read disappointment on his face. 

"I mean, I can understand how—and even why—you ended up with Wendy, but it would seem to me you'd want one or the other. I was hoping a relationship would develop between us now that we had reconnected, and frankly, that the sex was so good. But I've always been a one woman guy and, well, I would want my girl to be a one—person—girl. Sounds like Wendy wants exclusivity also." 

"So, you're basically telling me I've got to choose," Samantha ruefully deduced. 

"Put the shoe on the other foot. Would you want me to be also seeing another woman?" 

Samantha grinned. "If the woman was Wendy." 

Tim gave a forced chuckle, but stood and started dressing. 

"So, you're leaving?" 

"I need to digest all of this. As I said, I don't really know how I feel about this. It's a lot to swallow all at once. 

Samantha just sat on the bed and watched as he left her room and a moment later heard the front door open and close. And there went dinner, and she hadn't made it to the grocery so all she had were the same two choices from last night. That only left one option. She stretched out on the bed on her stomach and wept worse that she had when her marriage ended. 

* * * 

Not surprisingly, neither Wendy nor Tim answered any of Samantha's many calls the next day. The dilemma became which one to be more active in pursuing. However, she'd offered an explanation to Tim. She owed one to the doctor—if Wendy would let her. Samantha saw her only course of action as going to Wendy's condo and wait. Fortunately, the security guard had come to know her and easily let her in. And so, she stood guard at Wendy's door for over an hour. 

When the doctor stepped off of the elevator and saw her, she halted, and then finally approached slowly. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here," was Wendy's only greeting. 

"I'd like to explain." 

"What could you possibly say?" 

With a shrug, Samantha said, "Give me a chance?" 

Sliding her key into the lock, Wendy stopped before opening the door and said, "You know, this is the first time anyone has ever cheated on me?" 

"You said you've never been in a relationship so how can anyone have cheated on you?" Samantha tried her best not to be argumentative. 

"Okay. You've got me there." She finally opened the door and entered, leaving it open, so Samantha assumed she was allowed to follow. Wendy set her purse down on the counter and turned to the other woman. "I'm listening." 

Her tone wasn't cold, but Samantha knew it was an uphill battle. But she decided to simplify it by omitting Saturday night after the wedding. "It just happened. Tim and I caught up at the wedding and he called this morning and asked me to dinner. When he came to pick me up, we talked, he told me he worked on computers and I asked him to look at mine because it's been running slow. He did and one thing led to another and we ended up in bed." 

Her expression stoic, Wendy said, "And you really enjoyed it." 

"Yes, I did," she answered honestly. "And you were right yesterday. I haven't fully committed to the 'lifestyle,' as you call it, and I never led you to believe that I had. The fact is, today proved that I like it both ways. The question is, will you and Tim let me?" 

"My inclination would not be to share," Wendy stated firmly. 

"You'd actually like Tim. He might even change your opinion of men. Might even make you want to have sex with him." 

"I seriously doubt that." 

"Try it. You just might like it." 

"I have tried it and I don't like it." 

"I did things with Tim and he did things to me that I didn't think I liked. But I really liked it with him. I did things with you that at one time I thought were repulsive. Now I totally enjoy it." 

Wendy nodded a couple of times, not in agreement, merely that she understood what Samantha had said. "So, you came here to explain and now you're trying to talk me into being like you." 

"Sorry. That wasn't my intention." With a hopeless expression, Samantha added, "I guess I just want the best of both worlds." 

Wendy shrugged. "Can't have it." 

"Guess not. Guess I'll just have to choose." 

"Guess so." 

* * * 

After Samantha left, Wendy scolded herself for being so harsh with her friend. She should have been attempting to win her back instead of taking a hard line. The problem was, the doctor had never found herself in such a predicament. It was a double-edge sword. Not only had she never gotten so close to one of her lovers that she didn't want to lose her, but she'd never had to compete with a man. 

If only Samantha had talked to Wendy first, the doctor might have been willing to give her some space. Samantha had been heterosexual all her life so it was understandable that she wasn't certain what she really wanted for herself. But Wendy had a hard time accepting the deception. 

She really didn't want to lose Samantha. Now, what did she do? She pondered that dilemma over and over and found herself in the ground floor lounge next door to her condo building. She was again lost in contemplation until someone stepped up next to her. 

* * * 

Tim was similarly miffed by the turn of events; so much so, he didn't take any of Samantha's many attempts to call him. He had been honest with her when he told her that he understood how she could have become involved with Wendy, but that was as far as he was willing to go. He just couldn't for the life of him envision a life with her in which she would run off to be with Wendy from time to time—and that was assuming he would even be her primary partner. It could be the other way around—and he certainly would not stand for that. 

So, since that night, he threw himself into his work taking jobs that he would have normally assigned to one of his technicians. He hoped it would take his mind off of the situation. But images of Samantha just kept popping up in his head. She was beautiful and he felt certain she would be an ideal partner. He berated himself for not becoming more serious with her back in the day, but he realized how foolish that was. 

The question was, how to fight for her? How could he compete with a woman? As he rode the elevator down from a job he just completed, exiting the building, Tim saw a nearby lounge and decided to stop in for a quick beer to settle his mind. 

He saw her as he approached the bar and his first inclination was to turn and leave. But he really had nothing against Wendy. She wasn't to blame. 

"So, she's driving us to drink." 

Wendy turned to see a very handsome man standing beside her. She quickly recognized him as Tim Lawrence. "I'm already pretty good at that." 

"Yeah, so am I." 

"What are you doing here?" Her tone was less than gracious. 

Tim held out his hands in a halting gesture. "Please. You and I have no reason to be antagonists. We're both unwitting players in this." 

"You're right." She quickly realized that he really was. "I apologize. She gestured to the seat beside her. "Please sit and let me buy you a drink as a peace offering." Wendy now gave him a second look. He really was very handsome. If she were into men, she could see herself attracted to him. It was obvious why Samantha was attracted to him. 

"I was actually going to offer to buy you a drink." 

"Why? Is it a threat to your masculinity for a woman to buy you a drink?" Wendy again realized that she was being harsh. "I didn't mean it that way." 

He offered her a dazzling smile. "Not at all. I was raised to be a gentleman and to do the gentlemanly things." 

"Well, then, how about ladies first and if we're still talking after that you can buy the second round." 

"Works for me," Tim said, pulling out the bar stool next to her. "Why wouldn't we still be talking? Are we going to fight each other for Samantha?" 

Wendy turned to face him, her skirt rising fairly high on her thighs. Naturally, Tim noticed, but did not ogle nor allow his glance to linger for more than a second. Of course, Wendy had done that on purpose and was impressed that he seemed to give nothing more than a casual glance. "I really don't know what to do," the doctor admitted. "Don't even know what I want to do. I like her very much, but it's apparent she doesn't want to commit to one particular lifestyle and that doesn't sit well with me—and I'm sensing—you. 

"I don't think she really knows what she wants. So, do I actively pursue her and hope she turns? Do I give her space until she decides? Or do I let her go to pursue the kind of lifestyle she thinks she wants?" 

Tim's eyebrows shot up in amazement. "Wow. I guess I'm facing the same dilemma. We both care for her so much we're willing to forgo our own happiness." Tim's eyes remained on hers, but the image of her legs was etched in his mind. However, that vision slowly faded to the background as the beauty of her facial features replaced it. He could understand that if Samantha was going to be attracted to a woman why she would be attracted to Wendy. She was as beautiful as Samantha. 

"Do you mean that or are you just saying that?" Wendy asked wanting to believe Tim was sincere. 

Tim returned a twisted expression as though he didn't understand the question. In a tone of disbelief, he said, "Of course, I mean it. However, I would lean toward giving her space to let her decide. In my experience, if you press someone to make a decision, even if they truly want to make the choice you want them to, they go the other way just to spite you." 

Wendy raised her eyebrows, impressed with his insight. "True enough, I suppose." She shrugged. "But I don't know if I can be that patient." 

"Neither do I. So, where does that leave us?" 

Wendy lifted her glass. "Another drink?" 

And even after he left, Wendy was concerned that he'd made enough of a positive impression on her that she continued to think about him. 

* * * 

Dr. Wendy Robinson was surprised the next morning when she saw her first patient—patients? There were three people sitting in her treatment room, two attractive young women, a blonde and a brunette, and a good looking young man. She'd never had three people at once. Looking confused, she asked, "So, who's the patient?" 

"Well, we heard you were very open-minded," the brunette said. 

"I suppose so," Wendy answered, further confounded. "Why is that important?" 

Now, all three seemed embarrassed. "We're a triad," the brunette explained. 

"I'm not sure I follow." 

"Ever heard of polyamory?" 

"Nooo," Wendy responded slowly, curiously, although she thought she might have an inkling of where this was going. 

"The three of us—" she gestured to herself and the others "—are in an intimate relationship together. We love each other and we live together in a consensual relationship." 

"Like swinging?" Wendy wanted to know as light bulbs went off in her head. 

"No," the man responded, finally speaking. "Swinging generally is more about sex. Recreational sex. And swingers may not confine themselves to the same partners, whereas, we are exclusive with each other." 

"Instead of loving one other person," the blonde added, "we each love two other persons equally." 

"And how is that different from polygamy?" Wendy wanted to know. 

"Polygamy is generally one person, usually a man, having multiple spouses," the brunette explained. "Polyamorous is more general. It certainly can include polygamy, but doesn't usually. We know of polyamorous relationships in which two couples—two males, two females—live together. Also, marriage is not a requirement of polyamorous relationships. It's knowledge and consent that define us, an ideology of openness, goodwill, truthful communication and ethical behavior." 

Sitting back in her chair, Wendy was suddenly quite interested in this discussion. "What about sex?" 

"Sex is not necessarily a primary focus in polyamorous relationships. We're more interested in building long-term relationships with more than one person on mutually agreeable grounds. Sex is only one aspect of our relationship. We don't believe that sexual and relational exclusivity are necessary for deep, committed, long-term loving relationships." 

"Interesting," Wendy remarked. "What happens if one of you girls becomes interested in another guy?" She turned to the man. "Or you another woman?" 

"The same as in any relationship," the man answered. "We discuss it and work it out. However, we have the added advantage that if the other two really like the new person we might invite him or her to join." 

With a nod, Wendy asked, "I'm not big on labels, but for lack of a better one, are you two ladies bisexual?" 

Both nodded. 

"Is that a problem?" one asked. 

"Not at all. What about you, sir?" 

"I'm not bisexual, but I wouldn't be bothered by having another man in our bed if I really liked him." 

"But you wouldn't have sex with him." 

"No." 

"So, will you treat us?" the brunette asked. 

With a frown, Wendy asked, "Why wouldn't I?" 

"We've had doctors turn us down once they learn of our relationship. We've had other doctors who wouldn't talk to the others since we're not married." 

"Really?" 

"Yes." 

"Unbelievable," Wendy said with a shake of her head. "Of course, I'll treat you. Which one of you needs treatment?" 

The brunette raised her hand. "It's me. But before we get into that, you've shown considerable interest in our relationship. We appreciate that very much. No one—particularly in the medical field—has been so attentive. I have to ask why?" 

"Let's just say I have a friend who favors women and the woman she thought she was ready to begin a relationship with reconnected with a man she knew years ago whom she really likes. The woman was heterosexual until she met my friend. Now, the woman considers herself bisexual and wants both my friend and the man. However, neither my friend nor the man seem ready to accommodate her." 

"They sound ripe for a polyamorous relationship," the man pointed out. "Is your friend strictly lesbian?" 

Wendy grimaced at the label, but let it go for conversational purposes. "She thinks she is, but since she met the man, she's thought about him quite a bit." 

"Do you know if the man likes your friend?" 

"She didn't think he disliked her and didn't seem jealous of her." 

"They should try it," the brunette advised. "It's no different than entering any relationship except that there are multiple people involved. Other than that, we don't consider our relationship any different. We have the same problems any couple has; just sometimes they're multiplied." 

"It's an adjustment." This from the blonde. "You have to know what you're getting yourself into, and like any other relationship, you have to work at it, but a little harder because there's two other persons involved." 

"We'd be happy to talk to your friend—and the woman and man," the brunette offered. 

"Thanks. That's very nice of you. I'll pass that along. Now, what can I do for you?" 

The medical issue turned out to be minor, but the discussion had Wendy preoccupied all afternoon. She'd had no idea such relationships existed, and while she could see the benefits of them for some people, she did not think she was one of those people. Still, she could not stop thinking about it. 

* * * 

The front door bell rang and Samantha was not the least bit surprised. She only hoped her visitor would not be put off by the deception she had used to lure him here. Tim, on the other hand, was not amused. 

"I thought I recognized the address," he commented. "Are you really having problems with your computer?" 

"You haven't answered any of my calls," she pointed out. Samantha had had to resort to drastic measures to talk to him so she put in a service call with his company and specifically requested him. In anticipation of him coming, she wore only a robe with nothing on underneath. His widened eyes told her he noticed. 

"I didn't know what to say." 

"Well," Samantha said, dragging it out, "I guess I can't blame you for not answering. After all, I wasn't completely honest with you. And then you hurriedly left the other night." 

"Of all the things I might have thought, you with another woman never occurred to me. It was a bit of a shock," Tim admitted. "I mean, I think I could have actually handled it if it was another man." 

"I explained to you how it came about." 

"Yeah, and I get it. Doesn't mean I can accept it any better." 

"So, do we have any chance?" She had her hands in the pockets of the robe and she ever so slightly moved them so the flaps of the garment spread apart a tiny bit revealing a tad more cleavage. 

Tim recalled his conversation with Wendy the night before. Aside from deciding not to tell Samantha about it for fear it would have an adverse effect, he said, "We might—once you decide what kind of lifestyle you want." 

"So, you're saying I have to choose one or the other." It was a statement, not a question. 

"I'm saying you have to decide. I'm not saying what you have to decide. Only you can know that." 

"Look, I know this is confusing for you. But it's confusing for me, too. I've been heterosexual all my life, and one night in a week moment, I allowed a woman to seduce me. And though it was nice and I let it continue and even thought I might want that lifestyle, then you came along." 

"So, what are you saying?" 

"Just that I couldn't want anything more in a man." She spread her hands and her robe a fraction more. 

"But you want more. You want a woman, too. Tell you what. You can have a girlfriend if I can also." 

"Tim, please understand that I don't know what I want. I need something to help me decide. I've been with a woman for several months now. I'd like to be with a man for a while. I need a friend through all of this." Samantha raised her eyebrows helplessly, inching the robe farther apart. "A friend with benefits?" 

"And you will still have a girlfriend on the side?" 

"I talked to Wendy yesterday," Samantha said, shaking her head. "She was a bit more cut and dry. Won't have anything to do with me until I choose—and that would likely be only if I choose her. She knows I would ideally like it both ways, but does not seem willing to allow that, nor help me through the decision process." 

"So, you basically want me to become your fuck toy? You might not believe this, but I'm not that kind of guy." 

"I do believe you, and no, I don't want you to become my fuck toy. I just want us to continue having great sex like we've already had." 

"And so later on if you decide you really want to be with Wendy, you'll expect me to just walk away." 

"Oh, Tim," Samantha said dramatically, spreading her robe further, revealing much more than cleavage. "I don't expect anything. You do whatever you want to do whenever you feel you need to do it." She stepped closer to him, removing her hands from her pockets and blatantly undoing the robe's belt. "Right now, I'm just so horny I obviously can't think straight." She reached out and rubbed the back of her hand against his crotch, felt his growing erection. "Can you please just fuck me? I really need sex right now, I need it from a man, and you're obviously interested."