"Can Ya Change A Hun'erd?" (closed)

[PennySaver]

"Can Ya Change A Hun'erd?"

closed

NOTE ABOUT IMAGE BELOW:
It is photoshopped; I am very aware of that,
and I dont care.
This is fantasy, remember?​

Annabelle Thompson jerked in surprise at the unexpected chime from her cell phone. She released a rush of air from her lungs at being so jumpy, then giggled about her silliness. The very curvy, very naked, 24 year old Anna looked herself over in the mirror of the massive and elegant en suite bathroom of the equally massive and elegant penthouse condominium and thought to herself, He doesn't deserve me.

The he about whom she was thinking was one Dr. Selwa Al-Huwaider Mohammed. He had been her professor in Middle Eastern Studies her sophomore year at Harvard, and now he was the sugar daddy; he kept this amazing, 44th floor, Manhattan condominium for their frequent and exhaustive suck-n-fuck'fests, paid all of Anna's living expenses including her massive school loans, and -- as he likely would today when he returned from Paris -- bought her the most extravagant gifts or took her on incredible vacations to far off and exotic places.

Anna very much appreciated everything The Doctor did for her, of course. Three years ago, he'd come to her rescue when she'd learned that she'd lost a grant that would have gotten her through her BA and Law degree. Desperate for money and well aware that she couldn't support herself in Boston on two bucks above minimum wage and shared tips, Anna had been talked into working a party by her friend Margaret, then 23 years old and one of the most sought after Call Girls in New York City.

"You mingle, you let people see you, you have a glass of champagne, one glass of champagne, so as not to be drunk," Maggie had explained. "You get into a conversation with a man who talks funny because, after all, this is the Saudi Cultural Attaché. If he likes you and you think you can tolerate having him inside you … and he asks if you are a friend of Camille … you say yes, he takes you to a nearby hotel … you fuck and you suck until he's had enough, and you leave … $1,200 less in debt than you were before you took your panties off."

Anna had never in her life had sex with a man because she was trying to get anything more out of him than an orgasm or two for herself. Well, sure, she fucked Brendan Thomas in the back of his mother's Suburban so that he would spend a fortune of her Prom night. But really, she probably would have given him her virginity dance night anyway, just to get it done and over before leaving for college.

She was so nervous that night that she had to sneak away to the bathroom at one point to puke in the toilet. Once she got to mingling, though, Anna began to think that just maybe she could do this. Then she found herself face to face with her professor, who she'd expected would be home in Boston with his wife, watching The BBC or NPR or some documentary on ancient civilizations.

After she'd recovered and regained some of the color in her face, Anna was shocked even more deeply when Selwa asked her softly, "Are you a friend of Camille?"

Anna had been overwhelmed, and she turned without answering to hurry out of the party. When Monday morning came and she rose from her seat after Selwa's seminar on the 6 Day War, Anna found herself desperate to explain to the man that she wasn't a whore, that the Saudi party had been her first foray into the industry, and that she was as desperate to have him not look down on her as she was desperate to find a way to pay her way through the rest of her schooling.

A week later, Anna was Selwa's mistress, a month after that she was living here in this heaven in the Manhattan skyline, and a year after that she was debt free and feeling good about her life, even if it was driven by how good she looked in and out of a dress and by how well she sucked the cock of a man for whom she had no true loving feelings.

Looking to her phone now, Anna realized that the alert that had startled her was the condo's alarm system telling her that the front door had opened. Selwa was due home tonight from his European trip, so she called, "I'll be right out! I'm in the bathroom making myself delicious for you."

The Doctor didn't respond, which wasn't entirely unusual. After finishing his long work days at the college or at the foundation he'd established to support Islamic students coming to America to study, his mind was often either still occupied or simply burned out. Anna didn't mind, of course; those nights he typically only needed a stress relieving blow job, meaning less exertion on her part and no need to once again shower and prissy herself back up.


She called out, "There's wine in the fridge, and the service is bringing by a couple of tins of the caviar you ordered last time you were here."

Again, Anna got no answer. She called out asking whether or not he was okay, and getting no response this time, she tossed a long silk robe around her shoulders and headed out to find her lover. Anna stopped short and screamed when she found Selwa laying face up on the living room floor with his chest covered in blood. He was still alive, though, and she ran to kneel at his side, asking him what had happened as she was punching 9-1-1 into her cell.

"No..." the man murmured as he reached a trembling hand up to grasp Anna's phone. She insisted she call for an ambulance, but Selwa -- struggling for the words -- told her, "Bedroom … closet … suitcase..."

"What are you talking about?" she asked in a panicked tone. "I need to get you help."

"Suitcase..." he continued, reaching a hand up to caress its bloody fingers upon her cheek. His last words before falling unconscious and, a moment later, dying, were, "Take … run … disappear … love … I love … love you … Laila..."

That last word caused Anna's eyes to open wider and her brows to rise; Laila was Selwa's wife, and the Number 1 rule of this condominium was that neither of them was ever to speak her name here or even discuss the life Selwa had with her. Anna stared down at the dead teacher for a long moment … then remembered what he'd said to her: take the suitcase and run … disappear. She forced herself to rise and hurry into their bedroom, where she found an unfamiliar suitcase in the back of his walk-in closet behind his golf clubs and tennis bag. Anna pulled the case out, set it on the bed, stared at if for a long moment, then finally unzipped it and tossed open the lid.

"F-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-ck!" she murmured at the sight of more money than she'd ever imagined earning in a life time, let alone seeing sitting before her all at once. For the longest time, Anna simply stood there staring at the rubber banded bundles of hundred dollar bills. Finally, she picked up the biggest bundle laying in the middle, examined it, and began counting off the bills from one side toward the other: one, two, three, four, five...

When she got to fifty, Anna looked at the thickness of that portion of the bills and then estimated how many more portions of fifty C-notes were left in the bundle. Her eyes opened even wider when she did the calculations; they and her mouth widened even farther when she started counting the bundles -- they weren't all as large, but she adjusted for it -- and did the math to come up with an estimate of what was in the suit case: $3 million … plus or minus a bit.

Anna had to sit down. Then, she stood, went to the wet bar for a shot of whiskey, then another, then returned to the bedroom to once again sit and contemplate her situation. She knew she should call the cops; that was a gimme. But … c'm'on! $3 million! She leaned forward and rested her face in her hands for a while, but ultimately her eyes always went back to the suitcase and its contents.

He said take the suitcase and run, Anna thought to herself. Run and disappear. I don't know who killed him, but I'd bet $3 million dollars that I'm next if I stick around here. Finally -- after yet two more shots of whiskey -- Anna hurriedly packed a single change of clothes, some of her more valuable jewelry, and eight of Selwa's Rolex watches atop the cash and, barely, managed to get the case closed. She was so concerned that it might pop open unexpected in public that she found a couple of her belts and hooked their ends into each other to make one big belt to wrap around the bag.

And after a call for a Lyft … she was gone!

 

[ms_tiff]

Lyla Moore flipped the sign to Closed and locked the door. With a sigh, she turned back to face the empty library. Fading light filtered in through the windows, dust floating in the air, lending the place a quiet, eerie quality. It had been a long day, one that Lyla was happy to close the door on.

She wasn’t supposed to be here. Not in this library. And certainly, not in this town. But life had a funny way of giving Lyla the middle finger at every turn.

Not two years ago she had been pursuing her PhD in Cultural Anthropology at NYU and was set to move to Washington DC to begin an internship with the Smithsonian when she had gotten the call that her mother was sick and she needed to come home. Home to a place that hadn’t been home in over ten years. Home to a place that she had gladly left and never wanted to return to.

Sanderson, Iowa sat in the middle of nowhere. And nowhere is exactly where it’s residents went. Lyla could count on one hand the number of kids she graduated high school with who had left the town. It was a fairly easy number to count: 1. Lyla and Lyla alone had made the grand trek to “Greater Things” and got the fuck out of Dodge when she had the chance.

Then her mom called to tell her the factory where half the town’s residents, including her mom, worked had closed. Lyla sent her what money she could, but a doctoral student living in New York City didn’t have a lot of extra cash to spare. Then the phone rang again, this time with news of her mom’s cancer diagnosis, and Lyla had no choice but to go back and take care of her.

Now here she was, a once promising anthropologist, working in the one room library of a dying town.

Pulling her hair free of its clip, she shook her dark blonde waves out and rubbed her temples slowly. She looked at the cart of books that needed to be re-shelved and thought of the groceries she needed to go buy, the meal she needed to cook, and her mom would need a bath tonight which Lyla would have to help her with. Then, after all that was done, Lyla would sit down with the stack of medical bills, the mortgage which was past due and her student loan payments that had to be paid. And she would look from all of that to the dwindling number in her checkbook and curse whatever god was out there for fucking everything up.

“Fuck it.” She said to the stacks of books as she grabbed her purse from behind the counter. “Fuck it and fuck you and fuck everybody who comes into this fucking place.”

With a satisfied huff, Lyla marched out of the library and to her car.

She drove with no destination, not at all ready to go back to the house or to face the inevitable. She wanted just one moment to herself. Just one moment where she could blast the music, feel the wind in her hair and leave her worries for another day.

 

[PennySaver]

Annabelle stepped off the curb to cross to the far side of the narrow road, then caught movement she'd missed out of the corner of her eye. Panic filled her as she saw the car bearing down on her, and she literally reached her hands out before her as if she thought she could stop it cold, like some Marvel Universe superhero.

But the vehicle's nose dropped as the driver hit the brakes, and with tires skidding on old cracked pavement, the car came to a stop three feet out of Anna's reach. Wide eyed, she just stared at the woman behind the wheel -- who looked as panicked as she felt -- and then after a moment burst out in relieved laughter.

"I'm so sorry! I am! Oh, God, I'm so so sorry!" Anna called as she came around the front end of the car to stand near the driver's side front fender. She wasn't going to approach any closer; she didn't know this woman, this woman didn't know here, and -- obviously -- there was the whole You almost killed me and it was MY fault, sorry thing. Without wondering why she proceeded to do it, Anna began spouting, "I didn't see you comin', and I was told there was a motel here'bouts someplace but I can't find it and I'm not from here and neither was my Lyft driver who thought I was crazy to ask him to drive all the way here from … never mind that, but, like I was saying, or was about to say, so I was looking for the motel and I didn't see it and obviously I didn't see you either … and fuck! I'm so sorry!"

She took a step back onto the curb, dragging her suitcase filled with $3 million dollars behind her. She was fully expecting the driver to curse or stick up her middle finger or at least just drive off. It would never have occurred to her that the woman might actually offer her assistance. Anna wasn't from here, of course, and people didn't just help strangers in this country, even in tiny burgs like this that didn't even have a stop light … did they?

She'd chosen this town by a process of elimination: she'd never lived here, she'd never had family who lived here, she'd never known anyone who'd lived here, she'd never visited here, no one she knew had either, and it was roughly halfway between the two largest cities in the country, which Anna knew would be the first places her pursuers would look for her because -- obviously -- the best place to hide when you're trying not to be found is in a city of tens of millions of people … right?

Anna gave the woman a last anxious smile and a wave, mouthed Sorry once more, and looked left and right for anything looking like a place where she could rent a room for the night.

 

[ms_tiff]

"Holy shit!" Lyla slammed on the brakes as the woman stepped off the curb, a hand held up as if she could stop Lyla's car with the power of her mind. Lyla turned down her music, ready to curse the woman out for not looking where she was going and for not getting the fuck out of the road now that there was no danger of being hit, when the stranger began to apologize profusely.

It was then, as the woman babbled about not seeing Lyla and how there was supposed to be a motel nearby, that Lyla realized that this woman was a stranger. A stranger. A stranger in the middle of nowhere. A stranger where no stranger had been in the past decade.

What. The. Hell.

Lyla studied the woman as she struggled to pull her suitcases back up onto the curb. Like most young women, Lyla had experimented with girls in college, but she had determined after a couple encounters that the whole thing just wasn't for her. But this woman, this stranger, was making her reconsider that decision. It wasn't the obvious curves that drew Lyla's attention - though they were very nice curves. Lyla couldn't put a finger on what it was though; perhaps it was the lost, helpless look in her eyes or maybe it was the quiet innocence of her face. Whatever it was, Lyla felt herself being compelled to put her car in park, right there in the middle of the street (granted it was an empty street, but still!), and step out towards the woman.

"The motel is like two miles away." Lyla said, hands crammed in the pockets of her jeans, "I'm heading that way if you need a ride." She took a step towards the woman, hand outstretched, "I'm Lyla, by the way."

 

[PennySaver]

Like the other woman, Anna coudn't help but notice the raw erotic beauty of the driver when she got out to check on her. She was taller than Anna by a bit, slimmer perhaps with a deliciously thin waist, and ... Jesus ... she had the face of a cover model that Anna found herself unable not to stare at with fantasies of planting her lips all over it.

"The motel is like two miles away."

Anna looked off into the darkening night, groaned, and said, "Yeah, that makes sense. Never cash tip your driver until you're actually at your destination. Lyft doesn't tell you that … or … maybe they did and I just wasn't paying attention."

"I'm heading that way if you need a ride," the woman said. She offered a hand, "I'm Lyla, by the way."

"Anna," she responded, instantly cringing at the realization that she'd given her real name. Annabelle had planned on using an alias when she reached her destination, but oh well, she'd fucked that up. She tried to cover up her mistake a bit by lying, "Marianna, actually, but … sometimes I … no … I do prefer Anna, so..."

She didn't hesitate to take Lyla up on the offer of the ride. Moving to the car, though, she wasn't sure what to do with the suitcase of millions; she hadn't let it out of her hand for almost six days, but now she found herself putting it in the car's back seat out of sight. It caused her a slight bit of panic.

As they drove off, Anna felt compelled to provide some sort of cover story. "My grandmother -- she was a bit of a hippy -- she told me about this town once long ago when I was little. She lived on a commune -- they called it The Village -- here in the late 60s, early 70s."

What Anna was saying about the commune was correct, but she'd gotten it from an online Life article about alternative lifestyles after she'd chosen this town as her new home. She went on, "Gramma died recently and left me some money. Not much, mind you … just enough to travel here and maybe pay for an apartment … get a little used car … whatever."

Anna spotted a tavern with its open sign still lit just a block from the well lit motel sign and was tempted to ask Lyla to stop for a beer. But, as she had been for the past six days, Anna reminded herself that she was likely be tracked by god knows who and she had a suitcase filled with bundles of hundred dollar bills.

 

[ms_tiff]

As she drove, Lyla was seriously rethinking her offer to drive Anna to the motel. Did the woman ever shut up? As Anna prattled on nervously, Lyla only half listened to her explain her presence in Sanderson.

"Gramma died recently and left me some money. Not much, mind you … just enough to travel here and maybe pay for an apartment … get a little used car … whatever."

"That's nice." Lyla replied on instinct rather than actual interest. God how far was this motel again? She glanced over at Anna out of the corner of her eye. The other woman had put all her bags in the trunk of the blue '67 Chevy Impala, all of her bags expect one. One bag she held a death grip on as she sat beside Lyla.

Finally, there it was, not far in the distance. The blessed motel where she could drop this chatterbox off and Lyla could go about her miserable life.

The open sign in the Pit Fall's window blinked on and off as Lyla drew close to the bar next to the Sweet Dreams motel, the bulbs no doubt slowly dying just like everything else in Sanderson. On impulse, Lyla veered off the road and into the Pit Fall's gravel parking lot; small stones hitting against the underside of her car.

At Anna's questioning look, Lyla reached into the backseat and grabbed her purse.

"C'mon," she said climbing out of the car, "I think we both need a drink."

 

[PennySaver]

The sudden and -- to be honest -- frightening change of direction into the tavern's parking lot suddenly made Anna question getting into the car as much as Lyla had begun to question letting her into it. The pretty driver explained as they skidded to a stop, "C'mon, I think we both need a drink."

"After that...!" the out-of-towner quipped back, "I think so!"

Anna unbuckled, got out, and -- as she had been for several days -- immediately went for the rolling suitcase in which was stored her unexpected fortune. When Lyla looked her way, Anna explained, "Um … it, um … antiques! Valuable antiques, family heirlooms … stuff gramma left me. I'm sure they'd be safe as can be out here, but … well, I just don't wanna … it doesn't hurt anything to take them in."

By that point, Anna had pulled the handle out and started for the tavern. Yeah, yeah, it looked strange, but there was no way in hell that she was going to leave $3 million dollars sitting in the back seat of a stranger's car parked out in front of a bar.

Inside, they found a table in the corner and Lyla headed for the bar. It was instantly obvious to Anna that the beauty knew everyone and everyone knew her; there were far more people in here -- a weeknight -- than she would have expected. But then, economic recession and the closures of so many businesses might have meant less money spent per person at a drinking establishment, but it didn't mean fewer people at said establishment, did it?

"What do you do, Lyla?" Anna asked ever before the woman had dropped into her seat. She pushed the case's handle back in place, dropped it flat to the floor, and set a foot upon it; it was meant to seem as though she was simply trying to get casually comfortable, but in reality Anna wanted to ensure that it wasn't slipped away while she was drinking. After Lyla had said what she wanted about the previous question, Anna asked bluntly, "So … husband...? Boyfriend...? FWB...?"

She sipped at her beer, then tested the other woman's sense of humor and -- possibly -- her sexual preferences, "...girlfriend?"

Anna wasn't lesbian per se; she'd had female lovers in the past, sometimes with a man present as well, and she'd had an honest to goodness girlfriend for much of her Freshman year of University. She'd obviously been living with a man most recently and had had many male lovers before him. She was … uncommitted to being called any one thing over another when it came to who she spent time with in the bedroom … or in the back seat … or in the bathroom...

She sipped at her beer again as she looked into Lyla's incredible eyes, wondering whether or not she'd met the next person who'd put lips and tongue to her lonely pussy.

 

[ms_tiff]

Antiques, really? Lyla glanced at Anna out of the corner of her eye. The woman was hiding something, but it wasn’t Lyla’s place to question her. Let her have her secrets. God knew Lyla had some of her own she didn’t care to share.

As she pushed open the door to the bar, Lyla was greeted by the familiarly unpleasant scent of old beer, sweat, and mildew. The jukebox in the back corner was blasting out Skynyrd’s Travelin’ Man like an overbearing soundtrack to the clusters around the bar and the men gathered at the pool tables gambling and talking shit about each other’s wives. An empty high top was nestled in a dark corner of the bar, most likely empty because of its proximity to the blaring jukebox and the bathrooms. Nonetheless, Anna headed straight to the table, that ridiculous suitcase bumping along behind her. Lyla fought the urge to face-palm as the locals all eyed the stranger who insisted on toting a suitcase into their bar.

Instead of falling directly behind, Lyla made her way to the bar, greeting several people on her way.

“Hey, Lyla, what brings you in on a work day? Thought you were a strictly ‘weekend only’ drinker.” Brady leaned against the sticky bar top, his black t-shirt hugging his biceps and showcasing the tattoos covering his arms. Lyla had once, in a tequila infused haze, teased him about getting the tattoos strictly for the bartender uniform.

“Don’t even ask.” Lyla shook her head.

“Well if you need some stress relief the offer is always there.” Brady winked. With his shaggy dark black hair and smoldering bedroom eyes, Brady had been the bad boy in high school. The one that every girl thought she could redeem. But he was a love ‘em and leave ‘em kinda guy. The kind that Lyla never wanted anything to do with, and the kind that wanted nothing more than to get the one girl who was resistant to his charms into his bed.

“Honey, you could never handle all this.” Lyla smirked. “Now, can you do your job and get me two beers.”

Brady’s eyebrow quirked and Lyla tilted her head towards where Anna sat. His lips tugged up in a smile as he took in the stranger.

“So, is that why you aren’t up for a good time? ‘cause you know I’m always up for some group exercise.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Brady. She just got into town today and I was giving her a lift, that’s all. Now…the beers.”

Finally, foaming beers in hand, Lyla joined Anna at the table. Lyla eyed the suitcase that Anna had laid on the floor that hadn’t been cleaned in who knows how long.

"What do you do, Lyla?" God the woman couldn’t even wait until she’d sat down. Lyla took a gulp of her beer and settled into her seat before replying.

“I work at the library.” She leaned in, half shouting to be heard over the jukebox which was now screaming out Sweet Home Alabama. Seriously, were the only albums in there Lynyrd Skynyrd?

“It’s only temporary though.” She added, feeing the need to clarify. The answer had barely left her mouth before Anna pounced again.

"So … husband...? Boyfriend...? FWB...? ...girlfriend?"

Lyla’s eyebrow rose at the question, what was Anna after exactly? Not that Lyla cared any which way, but was she fishing for a specific answer here?

“None of the above.” She replied. “But I’m always up for whatever comes along.” She let her eyes settle on Anna for a moment longer than necessary.

“What about you?” She asked, turning the tables on her companion. “What do you do? Husband, boyfriend, fuck buddy or girlfriend?” She ran a finger slowly up and down the beer glass, her finger leaving trails in the condensation as she waited for the answer.

 

[PennySaver]

“None of the above,” Lyla responded in regards to Anna's question about her current lover or lack thereof. “But I’m always up for whatever comes along.”

The new girl in town couldn't help but smile wide at that last. Whether or not Lyla's answer would have been qualified by the addition of as long as it's with a guy Anna couldn't know because the woman didn't continue the answer. Anna found herself feeling a bit dirty, though, at thinking to herself well, whatever just came along was me.

How long had it been since Anna had been with another woman? She did the math: she had just recently turned 24; she'd been 18 to 19 her Freshman year at Harvard, when she had an actual girlfriend for 7 months, so … 5 years. Oh, wait, she reminded herself regarding a meat market dance club in Manhattan, those two girls out of Mosley's. That had been during her junior year, just before she quit school. So … 3 years since she last bit a slit

“What about you?” Lyla asked. “What do you do? Husband, boyfriend, fuck buddy or girlfriend?”

Anna smiled even wider, the lifted her beer glass to her mouth to give her a moment to consider her reply. If her answer to what do you do? was I do women, the librarian might think there was a good chance that the two of them were leaving here tonight together. Anna wouldn't mind that, of course … but there were $3 million dollars in hundreds right here under her right foot. Anna needed to deal with that in private.

Then again, if she told Lyla she was only into guys, after she dealt with the stolen cash Anna might never have a chance at rooting between the incredible beauty's thighs. What to do, what to do...

"None of the above," Anna finally answered. She laughed suddenly, realizing that her answer could have been interpreted as meaning I don't do -- don't fuck -- ANY one … as in NONE … as in I'm celibate. Anna clarified, "I mean … same as you … not doing anyone right now."

She knew that didn't entirely answer the question; she hadn't specified between cocks or pussies. But then she didn't really want to, not right now. Anna lifted her glass and, in one downing, finished off the entire beer. "Listen, I, um … this was great, and I really needed it … and … it was wonderful talking to you, Lyla … but..."

Anna was already standing up and lifting the case again. "I really need to get to that motel … it was the one right out there half a block away, right...? No! Don't get up, you don't have to drive me … it isn't even a hundred yards."

If Lyla contradicted her request, Anna would insisted that she stick around here with the locals. She tried to bribe her way out of the short ride by calling out across the bar, "Beers are on me!"

There was a roar of delight through the tavern, even by those patrons who had no idea who'd called out. Anna pulled her bag up to the bar, opened her purse, and pulled out a hundred dollar bill, slapping it on the counter. "Will this cover it?"

"Barely," Brady said as he was eying not the bill but Anna's bosom. She only smiled at the conspicuous ogle before pulling out a laying down a second hundred. She pulled and flashed a third one, asking, "Can ya change a hun'erd for me? I need some smaller bills … for shopping."

Anna could see the hesitant expression in Brady's eyes regarding giving up his smaller bills. When she started to pull back all three hundreds, though, he snatched them from her, went to the till, and brought her back twenties and a couple of tens. Anna thanked him and turned for the door.

 

[ms_tiff]

What was Anna so nervous about? The woman hadn’t stopped stammering over her words since getting into Lyla’s car. Taking another long drag of her beer, Lyla mentally shrugged. It wasn’t her problem.

"I*really*need to get to that motel … it was the one right out there half a block away, right...?*No!*Don't get up, you don't have to drive me … it isn't even a hundred yards."

Lyla glanced at Anna’s beer, the foam head nearly untouched as the woman dragged that silly suitcase out from under the table.

“Don’t worry about it.” Lyla took one more drink and stood. “Your other bags are still in my car. Honestly, it’s not a big deal if I drive you the rest of the way.” As Lyla made her way towards the door she heard Anna call out that beers were on her and turned around in time to see her setting a couple hundred dollar bills on the counter.

Brady glanced her way as Anna asked if the first hundred would cover it. If Anna didn’t see the sly grin on his face, Lyla certainly did. She moved over to the bar as Brady hesitated over changing out another hundred.

“Brady, you asshat,” Lyla plucked one of the bills from his hand and held it out towards Anna. “You know full well it’s $2 drafts tonight and you definitely know that there are less than fifty souls in this place. Now I know you weren’t trying to weasel this lady out of her well-earned money.”

With a sheepish grin, Brady handed over the bills for the hundred that Anna wanted changed. With a thank you, Anna turned and headed for the door, Lyla behind her.

“C’mon,” she said to Anna as the two walked back out into the fading sunshine. “I’ll get you to the motel.”

~*~*~

After dropping Anna off, Lyla decided to head straight home. She wasn’t up for the grocery store tonight and they still had enough left in the house to fix dinner. She pulled into the driveway of the split-level home she’d grown up in. The place hadn’t changed since her grandparents had built it back in the 60s. The shutters hung off their hinges and the paint was chipping. Weeds had sprouted in the gardens and nobody had bothered to pull them since her dad, the gardener of the family, left ten years ago.

With a sigh, Lyla stepped out of the car and headed up the creaking porch steps, taking care to avoid the third one up which had started to rot through. The whole place needed to be bulldozed, but Lyla’s mom refused to move.

“Mom, I’m home.” Lyla called as the screen door squealed shut behind her. Turning towards the living room, she saw her mom stretched out on the couch, her eyes closed in sleep. Lyla tiptoed towards her and picked up the blanket that had fallen to the floor. Covering her mom back up, Lyla tucked her in gently, careful not to wake her from the precious moments of sleep she was able to get lately.

She made her way into the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of dry cereal – because of course they were out of milk – and headed up down the hall to her childhood bedroom.

Like the rest of the house, the room stood as a time capsule to her childhood. From the twin bed with the faded pink and white comforter to the fraying white ruffled curtains, not a single thing had been changed since she had left for college all those years ago.

Lyla set the bowl of cereal on her nightstand and stripped off her jeans and blouse. She climbed into bed in her underwear and tank top, the bowl of cereal in her lap, and booted up her laptop.

Absentmindedly scrolling through Netflix, Lyla munched on the knock-off brand Cheerios and let her mind wander to Anna and her mysterious appearance in town. There was something about her that Lyla couldn’t put her finger on. Something that was off about her story and her in general. But, Lyla wasn’t one to question another’s motives and she wasn’t about to question having another person from the outside world who she could potentially connect with.

One thing that she did know, with Anna in town, Sanderson might actually end up being interesting.

 

[PennySaver]

“Don’t worry about it,” Lyla told Anna, insisting that she drive her to the nearby motel.

They arrived at Sweet Dreams which, it turned out, was a semi-circle of tiny ass little cabins, surrounded by dried browning grass and dead arborvita, with a pool -- long abandoned and empty, save for the leaves and debris -- at the center. The flat side of the half circle had the stainless steel posts and cross bars of a chain link fence separating it from the parking lot, but said fencing structure had no actual chain link fencing, which had long ago been taken down or possibly even stolen, Anna wondered.

They left the car, each carrying a bag, and headed for the slightly larger cabin on the end. It sported an ancient neon sign that was supposed to be proclaiming Open but -- due to a burned out filament -- was actually saying pen. Anna's first thought was, Is that what I'm renting tonight as opposed to an actual room? When they got to the office, Anna found something she couldn't have even imagined seeing in Boston. The office was closed for the night; regular old metal keys were hanging from a hook on the outside wall next to the window; a holder on that wall had envelopes with a space in which to write the room number; and a fading computer printed explanatory note in a frame nailed to said wall demanded, Pick a key, write # on envelope, insert $20, slide envelope under door, enjoy your night or not, I don't really care. Check out, noon or when you piss me off, which ever comes first. Written by hand in red marker, the manager had added NO CREDIT CARDS. No cash, no stay. I see everything, and even my dog carries a gun, so don't fuck with me!

"Wow," was all Anna say. She looked to Lyla for support of her amazement, but it was pretty obvious that Lyla already knew what was to be found here. Anna chuckled and said, "Welcome to Sanderson."

Anna did as described, taking Cabin 7 which was halfway around the curve of 15 structures. She wanted to be as far from the parking lot as possible. Ironically, they arrived to an unlocked door. Anna checked to ensure that the key at least worked; what she would never know was that years ago all the locks had been changed due to corrosion in many of them … and because it had been 35% cheaper to buy matching assemblies, all of the doors used the same key!

Anna wasn't expecting much, and she wasn't disappointed. It was a single room with a tiny bathroom in the back corner; the bathroom door was leaning against the wall, and a blanket had been nailed up in its place for what was supposed to be privacy. There was a tiny kitchenette with counter space half as large as her vanity table back in the Boston condo; it was covered with linoleum that had been warped by the long and still dripping faucet of a tiny sink. There was a microwave which surprised Anna; even more so, it was new and when she checked on it later, she'd find out it even worked.

The double bed in the corner near the door to the right looked ancient, but the unmade mattress didn't look too old. Anna sat, then laid upon it, looking to Lyla to say, "Well, it ain't Serta memory foam, but I'm so fucking tired anyway..."

They chatted for a moment and Anna considered making plans to meet the next day, but instead only asked what Lyla's work hours were and promised, "I'll come get a card … maybe check out a book … maybe some mystery horror novel about a girl who checks into a haunted motel in the middle of no where and is never heard from again.

They exchanged their farewells, and Anna stood at the door to watch as her near-automotive-manslaughter-suspect-turned-beer-buying-rescuer made her way back to the parking lot. Again, as she had when they entered the tavern, Anna couldn't help but check out the beauty's ass in those tight fitting pants as she walked away, barely and yet sufficiently lit by the lamp high over the dry pool.

Shoulda told her I licked pussy, she thought to herself as she waved and then closed the door … which she now found didn't lock at all. She blocked the door with both a wooden chair shoved up under the door handle and the couch, which she turned end-to-door and pushed up against the other half of the opening.

She was shocked to find that the water in the shower was clean and hot, even though the pipes shook hard enough to cause the already cracked plastic light cover to fall off and bounce about on the now-bare concrete floor. After a nice bath, she found she was starving and yet doubted Sanderson offered anything this late at night. She checked the local phone book's yellow pages; it was all of 6 pages, while Boston's was 4 inches thick. Nothing.

She found cell service -- precisely 12 feet south-southwest of her cabin's door and seemingly no where else -- and then 24/7 Chinese restaurant that delivered. Of course, it was in the next big city over, 22 miles to the north! The night manager laughed when Anna told her where she was, then laughed again when Anna couldn't give her a credit card number to verify payment.

"I can pay cash … with a 50% tip," she promised. The manager again laughed. In the end, though -- after she'd actually texted the driver's cell phone a picture of two $100 bills -- they made their deal: a hundred dollars worth of food and drink … and the 50% tip for the driver. The last thing Anna asked was, "Can ya change a hun'erd ... you know ... so I can tip the driver?"

After she got off the phone and while she was still outside in little cell phone reservation, Anna looked down the street to the sign out front of the Pit Fall and remembered smelling chicken and jo-jo's. Fuck... Forty minutes of feeling her stomach roll over finally ended when the Chinese arrived … and forty minutes after that, Anna was sound asleep … at least until the 2:44 freight train blew its whistle as it shot through town, just 33 yards from her bed!

##########################​

Sanderson Sally's -- which most of the townsfolk simply referred to as Sally's -- sat dead center in the middle of the town at the crossing of the east-west running Main Street and the north-south running Fifth Avenue. It was in the northwest, first floor corner of an 1890's commercial/apartment building that sat on the block southeast of the intersection.

Sitting in the corner booth of the cafe closest to the crossroads such that she could look out upon the intersection, the streets, the sidewalks, and the store fronts -- only half of which were still open for business these days -- Anna had come to realize that she could see the entirety of what the town of Sanderson had to offer pass before her eyes during those first hours of the morning.

Anna had been coming here every morning now for a week, as well as a few afternoons, and she'd very quickly come to realize that what was being offered wasn't much. Oh, this wasn't a reflection on the size of the town or a criticism of rural life; plain and simple, this town was near death, surviving on only a handful of profitable businesses and the combined spending power of the state and federally provided food stamps, unemployment, social security, and pensions of its residents.

"Try this one."

Anna flinched from her daydreaming, giggled softly at realizing that she'd in turn startled the waitress, then took the offered mug from which steam was slowly wafting upwards. The 30-something, divorced mother of two informed Anna, "This one's called Hazelnut Heaven."

"Thank you, Penny." Anna exchanged the new mug for the old one -- it was still half full of Peppermint Praline -- and said with a sorrowful tone, "Yeah, this one … not so much."

For each of those mornings since she'd discovered the little café, Anna had been acting as taste tester for the assorted flavors Hannah had been randomly picking out of a giant box of single serve, K-Cup coffees. Penny's restaurant distributor had given her the case for free in the hopes that a positive response from the public would entice her to purchase one or more commercial style Keurig machines to replace the espresso machine that had died … two months ago.

"Regular Folgers or decaf'," is what Penny had said that first morning to Anna when she'd ordered a French Vanilla latte with four shots and soy milk. She'd added with a slight smirk, "Or I have Nescafe … you know … that freeze dried stuff George Clooney pushes on TV while dresses as Nero or some such fuck."

Anna had realized she liked this woman right off the bat, and they ended up spending most of Penny's free time between patrons and baking -- the cafe's primary profit source -- sitting in that corner booth talking about this, that, and the other thing. Hannah had explained that her 90 year old, great-aunt -- the original Sally of Sanderson Sally's -- was the owner of the café and, as it happened, the entire building in which it was located.

"She's seriously cheap, and even more so bat shit crazy," Penny had said bluntly while somehow also showing a sense of love and pride in the old woman. "She's held onto this building longer than she probably should have for my sake. I grew up in this place, working behind the counter and out in front. Aunt Sally considered selling after I got married and started my family … but … then Roger flaked out and left … we got divorced."

The two of them had talked a couple of hours every day for a week, and while Penny might have thought the new girl in Sanderson was just looking for conversation -- because honestly, what else would she find in this town -- the reality was that Anna had begun formulating an idea for a way to put her $3 million dollars cash to work, rather than leaving it hidden inside the heating vent back in the Sweet Dreams motel.

This morning, Anna asked, "Your Aunt Sally kept this place running for you and your girls, yes?"

The manager/baker/waitress/busser/janitor had just served her fourth customer of the day -- it was almost 9am! -- and came to sit in the corner booth once more. Anna continued, "But, she's finally told you that she has to sell."

"Says she just can't support a failing business like this anymore," Penny confirmed. She got a sad, solemn look on her face as she clarified, "Can't support a failing niece like this anymore."

"Has she found a buyer yet?"

Penny shrugged. "Don't know. Don't think so, though. I think she would have told me."

"What if I told you I know someone who would buy the café?" Anna asked with a happy smile. "I know a guy who--"

"Not really the café that's the concern, really," Penny cut in. "It's the whole building."

"Then the whole building," Anna responded. When the other woman just stared at her with a confused expression, Anna explained, "He'll buy the whole building."

Penny attempted to add specificity, "And shut down the café to do something else with the space, right?"

"No, and keep the café," Anna corrected. "The café would continue to operate … you would keep your job … might even get a raise … definitely a new espresso--"

"How can you know this?" a doubtful Penny cut in. "Who's this guy, and how do you know he'll do all this."

Anna told a tall tale about how she had a rich uncle who was always looking for new investments in rural America, places run by real people for real people. Anna's claims sounded pretty realistic, even if they weren't true; she'd seen this pitch on a made-for-TV movie once and had committed it to memory.

After two hours of talking, Anna had the other woman excited and convinced that an infusion of cash might work. They actually shook hands, as if they themselves were the parties who would ultimately make the deal. Of course, Anna was! But Penny couldn't know that.

"I have somewhere to be," the new Sanderson resident said, finishing her latest cut of flavored coffee. She grimaced again, saying, "I think I'll stick with French Vanilla once you get your order of that."

Once outside, Anna tipped her second hand bicycle from its kickstand and pedaled off. She'd found it at Jeremy's Junk, two blocks north, after three days of walking about the town. She'd considered signing up for Uber of Lyft again -- there were three drivers of those serviced in town -- but she was afraid that an electronic finger print might get her caught and, thus, killed.

She road a couple of blocks and turned right, shot up the cracked pavement of the handicapped access ramp, and got off in front of the library. Inside, she found Lyla helping a child pick some Dr. Seuss. Anna smiled and waved when spotted and gestured toward the window seats where they'd sat and talked before.

Anna hadn't seen as much of the rural beauty as she'd wanted since her arrival a week ago. The Boston girl had hid out in her motel room for the first three days, only coming out once a day to pick up a to-go order from the Pit Fall and an equal number of times to get milk, beer, munchies, cold cereal, and microwavable meals from the convenience store.

But she'd finally come out of her cave to visit the library … and Lyla. The library was a quiet place, not because of the nature of a library but simply because no one ever used it. Anna had been surprised at this; after all, there wasn't anything else to do in this cemetery of a town. But the computers were ancient and couldn't play any of the modern, high-gig games; the electronic catalog had ceased working and there was no money to fix it; most of the magazine subscriptions had been canceled during the last budget cut; and so many other things that made the place a not cool place to use or even at which to be seen by one's peers.

Just as she had formulated an idea for the café and the building in which it sat, though, Anna had been working on a way to help Lyla with this place as well. Of course, unlike her desire to help Penny support her children, Anna had a different goal with Lyla. Anna had decided she wanted to get naked with this beauty and do all sorts of things good girls from rural America weren't supposed to do to one another.

But she still wasn't entirely certain that Lyla was even into other chicks. In a week, during which they'd only been able to meet three times and with two of those being interrupted by library patrons, the two of them had barely gotten into any sort of personal conversation. They'd made plans to meet at the Pit Fall four different times, and yet the two times they actually managed to do so, they'd been swamped by guys who -- more often than not -- had an eye on fucking Lyla, Anna, or both! In a week, they hadn't shared more than 3 minutes of private time together, so … how the fuck was she to know whether or not she was wasting her time?

Today, though, Anna was going to get her answer as to whether she had a shot with this incredible woman. The establishments hours today were a very minimal 10am to 1pm, and it was now 12:55. She waited until the kid with Green Eggs and Ham and Fox In Socks was out the door and that door was locked before she stepped up close to Lyla with a big smile on her face. She began, "A friend of mine in New York--"

Anna had lied about Boston to everyone who'd asked of her previous residence, of course, fearful that somehow a connection would be made. "--knows some people with a hedge fund … and they are in desperate need of laying off some profits … to avoid paying huge taxes … and … they want to donate money to the library..."

Her smile widened and she literally shook as she giggled. In that typical rapid fire method of speaking that drove Lyla crazy but which Anna couldn't avoid when she was excited she continued, "They want to give you money...! To the library…! To spend on anything you need!"

She stepped closer and grabbed Lyla's hands in hers; it was the first time since the latter had helped the former with her bags that first night that Anna had made physical contact with Lyla … and it caused Anna a bit of excitement at the thought that more touching might be possible in the very near future.

In a slower but no less dramatic tone, Anna lied, "They want to give you … ten … thousand … dollars!"

Her eyes were wide and her mouth open as she waited to see what the response was. Anna knew that this was a good thing, donating money to a library. And she knew she could have just walked in here with one of the bank-wrapped bundles of hundreds to make this simple. But she couldn't let Lyla know that it was her money … or, at least, her stolen money. Word would get around, and Anna would soon be opening her motel door to a couple of wise guys wanting to have a word with the former fuck-toy of Dr. Selwa Al-Huwaider Mohammed.

And, of course, there was the other thing: Lyla wasn't likely to be happy about Anna handing her $1,000 … and then asking if she wanted to get naked with her.

 

[ms_tiff]

The last few days had flown by with all the speed of a tortoise. Lyla’s days going through the same routine of waking up, making breakfast and getting her mom set for the day, working, errands, then home for the night to crawl into bed and fall asleep to dirty fantasies of a certain brunette new to town. Honestly, Lyla hadn’t had these kinds of dirty dreams in a long time and she didn’t exactly enjoy waking up feeling frustrated and horny; especially since she barely had time or energy to rid herself of that frustration.

She had seen Anna only a handful of times. It seemed the new girl was interested in getting to know everyone in town and she had been making herself a regular at Sally’s. Why, Lyla couldn’t understand. The food was ok, but the coffee – if one could call it that – left a lot to be desired. But, then again, Lyla had grown used to the specialty coffee shops that littered New York. The two women had grabbed drinks a total of two times, though barely with any time to themselves since every horn dog in the surrounding area suddenly felt a need to grab a drink at the Pit Fall whenever the two women were there.

Men. Lyla scoffed as she thought of the way the men she had known since childhood suddenly felt the need to grind up on her full of innuendo and invitations. It was sad, really. Besides, Lyla wasn’t interested in any of them and they knew they were wasting their time. But still the men persisted and both women shot them down. Repeatedly.

Lyla was so done with her day. The limited hours had dragged by and she was desperate to slip out of her slacks and into a pair of sweatpants. She had the day off tomorrow and all she could think about was sleeping in, and, maybe, finally taking advantage of having the time to scratch that itch that had been growing steadily over the last few days.

Speak of the devil, she thought as she caught sight of Anna walking into the library. Lyla waved, indicating she’d be over there soon. As the child she was helping finally selected a book and left, Lyla gratefully locked up.

“A friend of mine in New York –“ Lyla jumped a little, hearing Anna so close behind her. She hadn’t even heard the woman approach. She turned, seeing the massive smile on Anna’s face – a face that Lyla had imagined buried between her legs more than once over the past few days. Biting her lip, she indicated the chairs near the windows for the two women to sit. Anna kept talking the whole time about a friend of hers who wanted to invest not only in Sanderson itself, but in the library.

“Wait, hold up a second…did you just say ten thousand fucking dollars? Why the fuck would anyone want to do that?” Lyla stared at Anna, mouth agape as she tried to wrap her head around this.

“I don’t…are you serious? That…that doesn’t make any fucking sense!” Lyla ran a hand through her hair.

She glanced around the library with its outdated equipment, books with pages falling out and magazines that hadn’t been updated since the turn of the century.

Only as she was trying to figure this out did Lyla realize that Anna held her hand in her own. She looked down at the hand, remembering how it had trailed across her skin the night before in her dream. How those slim fingers had teased and tugged at her nipples. She felt the flush creeping up her cheeks as she sat there.

“I…” She felt tears welling up in her eyes, the stress of everything coming to the surface. The stress of her mom’s diagnosis. Having to leave behind her dream job. Moving back to this godforsaken town. Working in the library that lacked in every way. And the sexual frustration that had been mounting since Anna walked in front of her car.

“I don’t know what to say.” She said softly, blinking rapidly. Lyla met Anna’s eye. “Thank you.” And then Lyla did what had been on her mind for far too long. She leaned in and pressed her lips to Anna’s in a soft, hesitant kiss.

 

[PennySaver]

“Wait, hold up a second…did you just say ten thousand fucking dollars?" Lyla asked in shock. "Why the fuck would anyone want to do that?”

Anna just shrugged. "Tax write off. Don't ask me how it works."

She'd been about to say I quit school just like you did as an explanation for not understanding the American tax system, but she caught herself. Lyla's severing of her education had affected the tall beauty more deeply than it had Anna, who'd done the same but for much different reasons.

“I don’t know what to say.”

"Say yes!" Anna told her. "Say yes, and I'll make a call, and the money'll be here in a couple of days. My uncle says--"

Anna caught herself, remembering that her fictitious uncle was actually helping Penny while her fictitious friend was helping Lyla. She started again, "I mean, my uncle's friend … I actually know this guy through my uncle … his friend says they're up against a deadline, so, sooner is better than later. So...?

“Thank you.”

Anna was tickled about Lyla's answer, and she was tickled that Lyla seemed tickled, and when the other woman began to lean forward, Anna assumed that it was to give her a big appreciative hug. But before she realized what was happening, Lyla's lips were on her own. Despite Anna having fantasized about kissing Lyla just as Lyla had about her, it surprised the Boston girl all the same and she pulled back with wide open eyes.

That moment of pause didn't last long, though, as very quickly Anna's and Lyla's lips were once again pressed together in a long, soft kiss. When they pulled back again, Anna gripped Lyla's hands a bit tighter in her own, smiled broadly, then whispered, "That was nice. Can we … you know … try it again … you know … just to make sure it wasn't a fluke?"

 

[ms_tiff]

Lyla felt Anna's grip tighten on her hand, as they pulled apart. The kiss had been unexpected, Lyla hadn't intended to actually follow through with any of her fantasies. She had merely been swept up in the moment, that was all. But something tickled at the back of her brain as the kiss lengthened, as Anna's lips molded with hers.

This isn't being 'caught up in the moment'. There's something more here.

Finally, the two part and Lyla looks at Anna, trying to gauge the other woman's reaction. For all she knew, Anna wasn't into girls and Lyla had just made a total ass of herself.

"That was nice. Can we … you know … try it again … you know … just to make sure it wasn't a fluke?" The bright smile on Anna's face, coupled with those words alleviated Lyla's fears.

A smile pulled at her own lips and she couldn't help the small laugh that pulled from her throat.

"I think we can manage that," she replied, her voice gone soft and her gaze searching Anna's. She cupped the young woman's face in her hands, pulling her in closer until their lips were a breadth apart. She could feel Anna's breath on her lips and her gaze dipped down to parted lips before moving back up to meet Anna's.

"I can assure you, though," she whispered, "this isn't a fluke for me." And she pressed her lips against Anna's.

Where their first kiss had been hesitant and questioning, this kiss was electric. Desire burned deep in Lyla's chest as her fingers moved up from Anna's jaw into her hair, tugging the other woman closer. Her tongue swept over Anna's bottom lip, seeking entry as she gave herself over, completely to the moment.

 

[PennySaver]

The kiss very quickly became passionate, as their lips parted and their tongued toyed their tips gently against one another. Anna let her hands find Lyla's knees, then further up her thighs until they came to rest on the librarian's waist, urging them even closer to one another.

Suddenly, an unexpected sound shocked Anna from the most passionate and exciting moment she'd had since she found her sugar daddy dead on the floor and a suitcase full of money in his closet. She flinched in shock, looking toward the front door where a child -- not knowing the library closed early today -- had pulled on the locked door, then pulled even harder still.

Anna laughed, embarrassed and felt a blush explode through her face, neck, and shoulders. "Sorry, I … that just scared me, is all."

She took another look, wondering whether or not the child had seen them making out, but she couldn't see the kid's head from here.

 

[ms_tiff]

Lyla whimpered as she felt Anna pull away abruptly, her body suddenly going cold at the lack of contact. Had she pushed too far? No, she couldn't have, not with Anna's hands sliding up her body the way they had. Obviously the other woman had been into it as well.

The banging of the door brought Lyla back to the present and she realized why Anna had pulled back so quickly.

"Don't worry about it." Lyla replied to Anna's apology with a reassuring smile. She placed a hand on the woman's arm, feeling the soft skin, her fingers stroking gently. She liked the feel of Anna's skin, so soft and smooth. So different from a man's.

After another failed attempt the child trying to get into the library wandered off, leaving the two women alone once more. Lyla could her skin heating as she looked at Anna. God, she wanted to rip Anna's clothes off, lay her down on that dusty carpet and bury her face between the woman's legs. She hadn't been with a woman in years, but she was fairly certain it was like riding a bike. A very soft, supple bike that would moan and whither beneath her.

But the library was definitely far from a seductive place and Lyla had no wish to get down and dirty with Anna among the dust bunnies with a large Dr. Seuss cut out leering over them.

"Um...would you like to grab dinner or something? I mean, you don't have to, but I'd like it if you wanted to..." Lyla fumbled with her words, suddenly a bumbling teenager asking someone out on her first date.

 

[PennySaver]

Anna smiled wide at the invitation, saying, "Definitely. When and where?"

Lyla proposed a time and place, Anna agreed, and hopped up to leave. She'd very nearly leaned in to kiss the librarian again, but after the kid at the door she was feeling very exposed here in the library with the huge floor to ceiling windows.

They made their way outside and headed off in their own directions; Anna's was directly to Sanderson Sally's for advice from Penny. "I need clothes for a date … you know … an intimate date. What's the best shop in town to get, you know, sexy stuff."

Penny only laughed at her, saying, "If you're thinking Victoria's Secret, honey, you're in the wrong town! But … you and I are about the same size, and I have something that will fit you that I bought for a date that didn't pan out, like, three years ago. You're welcome to it."

They met at Penny's house after the coffee shop's closing, and Penny pulled the still wrapped items out the depths of her closet. They fit perfectly, leading Penny to ask, "So which of the town's very few eligible bachelors has the pleasure of possibly seeing you in this tonight?"

Anna felt her fair skin explode in a blush. She answered simply, "It's a secret."

She headed home, showered, did up her hair, and headed out to meet Lyla … hoping beyond hope that she'd not only be showing the sexy bra, panties, garter, and stocking off … but stripping them off as well.

 

[ms_tiff]

It had been awhile since Lyla had been on a date...and done the things one does on a date. Of course, Lyla wasn't counting on the fact that Anna would want to get down and dirty on the first date, but a girl could dream. After all, it had been ages since Lyla had gotten down and dirty with anyone and she was aching for it.

After parting ways with Anna at the library, Lyla went about getting her errands done and then headed home to check on her mom and get ready.

Standing in her room, Lyla surveyed her closet, instantly hating everything inside. Finally, after far too much time, she settled on a simple yellow dress, boots and a jacket. There really was no point in dressing up too much, after all this was Sanderson and nobody dressed up more than putting on a clean pair of jeans and a shirt that wasn't wrinkled. Underneath, however, Lyla donned a sexy, black lace body suit. Casual on the surface, a horny sex goddess underneath. Lyla hoped Anna liked it...if they got that far of course.

Lyla made the drive down to the motel where Anna was staying. She knocked on the door and waited.

 

[PennySaver]

Anna found herself so nervous as she waited for Lyla that she had to rag wash her freshly shaven underarms twice and reapply antiperspirant. She was having a bit of a wetness problem between her legs, too, but that wasn't from nervousness but from lust.

She squealed -- short and sharp -- at the knock on the door, then giggled in embarrassment before hurrying to open it. Anna was dressed sexy herself, and yet she found herself backing up a step to get a full view of the amazing beauty with the long legs in the sexy stockings.

"My God," she murmured in shock as she conspicuously looked Lyla up and down and then up and down again. "You are simple ... incredible."

 

[ms_tiff]

Lyla couldn't help the blush that colored her cheeks as Anna looked her up and down.

"You don't look too bad yourself." She teased, eying the downright sexy outfit her date wore. "You do realize that we're in Sanderson, there's no where around here that you have to look that nice for." Lyla chuckled.

Biting her lip, she felt the nerves building. She was about to take another woman out on a date. In her hometown. Where everybody would be talking about it. What the fuck was she thinking.

"You ready to go?" Lyla asked, offering her arm to Anna. "Your chariot awaits."

She mentally face-palmed. Since when had she gotten so cheesy?

Once the two women were in the car, Lyla drove them into town to the only other restaurant in town beside's Sally's. It was Sanderson's version of fine dining with rickety wooden chairs and tables stained from years of spilled food and wine. But, it was also fairly empty at dinner time, with more people opting to go to the bar, so it was the perfect "intimate" restaurant for Lyla and Anna's first date.

The two women were seated in a back corner, the only other patrons were a family towards the front of the dining room and one other couple who were paying more attention to their phones than each other. The waitress handed them their menus - thick volumes with sticky pages that touted a fine area of food from Cesar salad to biscuits and gravy to surf and turf.

"Word to the wise," Lyla said as they perused their menus, "stay away from anything with seafood. We're not exactly near any body of water here."

 

[PennySaver]

"You don't look too bad yourself," Lyla teased, "You do realize that we're in Sanderson, there's no where around here that you have to look that nice for."

Anna's face reddened to match Lyla's own, leaving them standing there looking as if they'd each bitten into the world's hottest pepper. She took Lyla's arm without hesitation, then wondered whether that was a good idea. Looking about for prying eyes, she remembered that over the past week she'd been the only person to take a room at Sweet Dreams with the exception of one couple who had slinked in here late one night, lit the place up with their moans, groans, and cries of ecstasy, then slinked away again, never to be seen again.

They ended up in a little restaurant that while it had a lot of potential charm also had mismatched silverware settings and only enough table clothes to cover half the tables, not including their own in the back corner. Anna heeded Lyla's warning about seafood and decided to ask for whatever steak and salad was the easiest to prepare.

"And a bottle of wine," she asked the waitress when she returned with a water glass to replace the one that Anna had pointed out was cracked. "Your best one … most expensive … money's no object tonight."

She thought she caught something in her date's expression, and quickly -- but quietly -- explained, "I, um … I should probably tell you something, 'cause you're gonna find out eventually. I … I sorta come from money. I mean, not a lot of money. But, that uncle I told you about...? He's kinda well off, and he's got no kids, and I'm his favorite niece … his only niece … so, he set me up with a trust fund years ago and told me to go out into the world and have fun."

She smiled, let her gaze drop for just an instant to Lyla's bosom, looked up again with an even wider smile, and said, "So … I am!"

 

[ms_tiff]

When Anna asked the waitress to bring the best, most expensive bottle of wine that the restaurant had, Lyla wanted to laugh. The best bottle to ever cross the building's threshold was a $50 merlot, and even then it had been watered down to go further among the customers. But, Lyla wasn't about to ruin Anna's fun and so she kept her mouth shut.

Their orders placed, Lyla surveyed the woman across from her silently. Anna liked to talk a lot and Lyla felt no need to cut her off any time soon. In fact, the more she talked, the more Lyla wondered if that was all her cute mouth could do - or if all that talking had given her tongue a bit more...endurance for other things. The image of the sexy brunette between her legs made Lyla squirm.

"Well that was very nice of him." She responded as Anna finally came to the end of her explanation. She leaned in, catching the way Anna's eyes drifted down to her cleavage, and whispered conspiratorially, "but you know you don't have to try and impress me. I already think you're pretty interesting, not to mention sexy as hell."

 

[PennySaver]

Anna's eyes widened at the other woman's suggestive compliment … and then her smile did, too. She looked about them for prying eyes or eavesdropping ears, only to know that they were safe here in their distant corner. "I think you're sexy, too."

The waitress arrived with the opened bottle of wine and two glasses … and then simply set them at the edge of the table and left to deal with the rest of their order. Anna watched her depart, gave Lyla a humorous glance and expression, and said, "Well, I guess we're serving ourselves."

She snatched up the bottle before Lyla could get to it and checked the label. She chuckled; she used to buy this same wine at the convenience store across from her college dorm room. Looking around again for interested patrons and seeing no one of interest, Anna lifted the bottle to her lips, took a big drink, then offered it out to Lyla, asking, "Why the fuck should we dirty the glasses for this grape?"

She laughed loudly, not for the last time. The two of them would laugh again and again through the dinner and through the dessert and then through another bottle of fine wine after the dishes had been cleared and dinner had been replaced with just companionship.

"Please tell me you like girls," Anna suddenly said very softly as they were contemplating ending their time here. "I know we kissed … and … I know we just had a fine dining experience with one another..."

Anna's tone was becoming almost desperate as she continued, "...but … this isn't just flirtation that isn't going anywhere serious is it?"

She'd ran into these kinds of situations in the past, back in her first years at University. Teenage girls finally away from their parents' homes, living in dorms or sharing apartments with other females, sitting around at night scantily dressed or dancing at parties or in clubs with their fake IDs, getting very close with other flirty females … only to find after they'd been grinding bosoms and waists and groins and asses all night and them possibly making out in a back corner, discovering whether or not Katy Perry had been right … all of this only to then have the woman in her arms say This has been fun and I've really enjoyed it, but hey, I'm not into girls…

Anna didn't know whether she could take that tonight...

 

[ms_tiff]

Lyla couldn't remember the last time she had had this much fun. Before she knew it, their dinners were done, dishes cleared, and the two women were still there sitting at the table, laughing their heads off and passing the cheap bottle of wine between them. The wait staff had long given up on them leaving the table (besides it wasn't like anyone was waiting for the table) and had all but left the pair alone.

Taking a long draw of the wine, Lyla sighed contentedly. There was something about Anna that drew her in, made her feel alive again. She liked it.

"Please tell me you like girls. I know we kissed … and … I know we just had a fine dining experience with one another..." Anna's words came out of nowhere, causing Lyla to choke and cough on the wine.

Honestly, Lyla had never thought of girls in the way that she thought of Anna. Sure there had been the usual experimentation, but the idea of going down on another girl had grossed Lyla out so much that she hadn't been able to do more than fingering. But with Anna...well it didn't gross her out that much. In fact, it was the opposite, Lyla couldn't think of anything she'd love more than crawling under that table right now and eating Anna's pussy until the other woman was screaming in pleasure.

"I like...you." Lyla responded softly. "That kiss wasn't just a fluke. I wanted to do it. And I have thought of nothing else but doing...more with you." Under the table her hand rested on Anna's knee and slid slowly up as Lyla leaned in closer. "I'd really like to show you just how much I want to do more."

She locked eyes with Anna, hoping the other woman caught her meaning.

 

[PennySaver]

"I like...you," Lyla responded softly.

Anna cocked her head a bit, her lips widening. What did that mean, exactly? Lyla liked other girls, which including liking her? Or ... Lyla wasn't into girls in general but liked Anna? If it was the latter, did that mean Lyla had never been with another woman in the way Anna so badly wanted to be with her?

"That kiss wasn't just a fluke," her dinner partner went on. "I wanted to do it. And I have thought of nothing else but doing...more with you."

Anna found herself beginning to get warm with lust. And thinking deeper about what Lyla was saying, she began wondering whether or not the country beauty had ever been with another woman … as in, really been with, as opposed to simply kissing in a library window. Is someone eager to earn their Girl Scout Lesbian Badge tonight?

Anna flinched at the surprising feel of Lyla's hand upon her thigh; she giggled at her reaction as the other woman moved closer, saying, "I'd really like to show you just how much I want to do more."

They stared into one another's eyes for a long moment as Lyla's hand continued to play upon Anna's bare flesh. Then, remembering that scene from Major League when one player's wife hit on Charlie Sheen's character and he was eager to get the woman out of there and into his bed, Anna leaned, caught the waitress's eyes, raised a finger into the air, and called softly, "Check."

Outside and arriving at Lyla's car, Anna looked around for other people; they were all alone, mostly because it was late on a weeknight but also because it was fucking Sanderson. Anna took Lyla's hand, led her around to the trunk of the librarian's car, leaned her back onto it, and pushed up hard against her as she pressed their mouths together in a passionate kiss.

"I wanna go down on you," Anna whispered, her hand already slipping between their bodies on a quest to rub up and down in Lyla's crotch. In between kisses, she clarified, "I wanna go down on you … right here, right now."