A New Adventure Every Day Pt. 01

"Oh, don't say that: I think all women owe it to themselves to be at least a little bit bi-curious -- it makes life so much more interesting!" She smiles at me then points to the sitting room, "In here?"

I nod, "Yes, and, um, I'll er, go and get us a couple of glasses from the kitchen." I can feel my heart beating quite rapidly. And then I think, well, being flirted with by a woman is certainly a new adventure, so remember your resolution and just go with it; it's not as if you're going to get into bed with her.

I walk into the sitting room were Meg is sat on the sofa. She looks up and smiles at me and pats the seat next to her, indicating exactly where she wants me to sit. The wine bottle is on the low coffee table and I place the glasses next to it. "Shall I pour?" I offer.

"Yes, please, and don't be stingy; let's have a decent drink. It looks like you've been working hard getting this place all sorted so you've earned it."

"And what have you been doing to earn a big drink?" I ask, teasing.

"Well, welcoming a new neighbour in this heat is thirsty work," she replies, "and keeping my hands to myself with a sexy woman nearby is exhausting!"

"Your hands should be all over yourself then: you're definitely the sexiest one here... um." I feel my cheeks redden intensely. Had I really just suggested that Meg should be playing with herself? And actually calling another woman sexy was a first for me too -- I normally stick with 'attractive', 'pretty' or possibly 'beautiful' even when I actually mean 'sexy'.

"Oh, Sam, you're so sweet! And I'm flattered that you think I'm sexy too: It's always nice to be noticed by a straight woman." She takes the glass I offer her and winks at me. "You can stop blushing anytime -- I promise not to start touching and fingering myself!"

Meg's comment tells me she picked up on what I'd accidentally said and only deepens my blush till I feel my whole face glowing, as she no doubt intended. Without hesitation, and on the basis that I couldn't at this stage become any redder, I have a comeback, "Oh, good; we've only just met so it's a bit soon to see you flashing your boobs or your lady parts!"

"Ah, so it's not that you don't want to see them ever, it's just that today is too soon. I see; well; I can wait a few days."

This woman never gives up! I hold my hands up, smiling. "Okay, I give up -- you are certainly the Queen of Innuendo and Flirtation. Meg, are you like this with everyone you meet?"

She hesitates, and relaxes slightly which makes her, if anything, even more beautiful. "Actually, no," she admits, "it's, er, it's just talking to you: I couldn't help it. Sorry, I didn't upset you did I?"

"Honestly, no. It's just that I've never been flirted with by a woman before..."

"Really?" she interrupts, "Were they all blind where you lived?" I raise an eyebrow and give her a look that had successfully quelled boisterous teenagers for the past fifteen years. She looks sheepish and says a quiet, "Sorry."

I cannot help laughing. "I'm glad to know my classroom control techniques are still working!" I tell her and Meg smiles. "As I was saying, I've never been flirted with by a woman before but I've resolved to have a new adventure every day so I went with it and it was fun. Actually, I think you're fun and I'd like to get to know you and for us to be friends." I raise my wine glass. "Here's to an adventure a day and the new friends I make along the way!" I take a sip and Meg does likewise.

To my amazement I see Meg's eyes glisten as they fill with tears. "You really are sweet Sam, I mean it. I'd like that too, for us to be friends. So: no more flirting?" she asks with a slightly downcast expression.

She looks so cute and forlorn that I immediately relent, "I didn't say no more ever. Just, well, not all the time, okay? I did enjoy it but I don't know anything about you apart from you're an attractive lesbian woman in her mid-twenties called Megan, sorry, Meg Dike. I don't know where you live, what you do or, apart from sexy women and dry white wine, what you like."

"Well, they are probably the two most important things -- apart from chocolate, of course!" she smiles and we begin simply to chat. I tell her about myself and the past annus horribilis of stress, failure, divorce and depression.

As the evening wears on and the wine in the bottle, like the sun outside, sinks lower, I learn that she lives in the furthest of the five houses, closest to the village centre. Meg is a teaching assistant at the local primary school, the head teacher of which, Ms Erica Shaw, lives in the cottage next door to her. Meg paints as a hobby, likes to bake (especially if chocolate is involved) and also, like me, enjoys cryptic crosswords. She has no current girlfriend which, I suspect, is why she was so flirtatious, though I don't say this.

Meg has lived in the village since she was twenty and moved into her cottage with her older sister some five years ago after she started working at the school. "Ms Shaw helped us rent it -- she got me and my sister, Laura, a good deal on the rent from the owner on condition we did some work on it and redecorated."

"So you live with your sister?"

"I did. Laura moved out after the first year and is living and working in the United States now. I miss her a lot. Ms Shaw helped me finish the decorating, buying paint and stuff. She also helped Katie -- Katie Andrews, she's your next door neighbour -- Ms Shaw helped her get a good price when she bought it. Katie runs the Village Hall or 'Community Centre' as the new sign calls it."

"So who lives in the middle cottage?" I ask.

"Oh, that's old Mrs Thomas, who's in her seventies and her granddaughter Bex, well, Rebecca really but only Mrs Thomas calls her that. She's eighteen and doing her A Levels at the Sixth Form College in town."

"So it's only women in all the cottages?" I ask, intrigued.

"Yes, your right; it's funny how these things happen, isn't it. Still, it feels very safe and friendly here; perhaps being all women helps that."

"It does, that's exactly how it feels. I guess that's why I fell in love with the cottage the first time I saw it."

"I think you're going to fit in here perfectly, Sam," she says happily.

  CHAPTER 4 -- 'Is she your girlfriend?'

I look out the window and can see it's getting late and, I notice, all the wine has gone. That would explain the light-headed feeling I have; half a bottle of wine on an empty stomach is more than I'm used to. "Meg, how do you feel?"

"I feel very happy being here with my new friend!" she replies. She stands up, taking two attempts and sways slightly. "Though I may be a little bit tipsy," she admits with a giggle, "and hungry? Yes, definitely hungry. Are you hungry, Sam?"

"Actually, I'm bloody starving!" I tell her. "I really need to get something to eat but I've no food in."

"Sam, do you trust me?"

"What? Sure, why?" I ask, slightly confused.

"Go and get changed and meet me by my house in twenty minutes."

"Changed? What should I wear?" I am a little bewildered and unsure as to what Meg is planning.

"Something a bit dressy, you know, as if for a party. But I wouldn't recommend heels as we'll have to walk to the other side of the village. Okay?" I nod. "See you in twenty minutes!"

I go upstairs and look through the wardrobe. The problem is that 'something a bit dressy... as if for a party' isn't exactly a dress code, especially as I don't even know where Meg is taking us. Still, I said that I'd trust her and I will. Thinking about it, I do trust her; I feel safe with her. I just wish she'd offered to come up and help me pick an outfit.

As I work my way along the rail I come across a cocktail dress: it's a cobalt blue colour that I think goes well with my eyes, it has three-quarter length sleeves and quite a deep V neckline that, with the right bra, allows me to show some cleavage for a change! The skirt is slightly flared but the bit I really liked when I bought it were the cut outs on the sides of the bodice that showed my waist and made me feel very sexy. Maybe a bit too dressy for this, whatever it is, perhaps? Then I recall that I've only ever it worn once before simply because Steve, for some reason, absolutely hated it and always objected to my wearing it. 'Well fuck you, Steve!' I think and take the dress. I also find the pair of blue ballerina pump shoes that I bought to go with it and the push-up strapless bra.

I've spent far too long choosing my outfit as I realize that I also need a quick shower. I'm going to be late meeting Meg but that can't be helped: I'm not going out without feeling clean and fresh. I quickly strip and notice the damp spot in my panties. I'm intrigued enough to give it a little sniff: wow, I must have been more turned on by some of the bantering with Meg than I realised. I feel a little uncomfortable, unsure of what this says about me.

Still, there's no time to ponder. I dive into the shower, doing my best to keep my hair dry since there absolutely isn't time to dry it. Shower turned off, vigorous towelling dry, panties (yes, a thong, why not?), antiperspirant, bra, dress, brush hair, dab of perfume, lipstick and shoes. Ta dah! Looking good I think as I check myself in the mirror. Oops! Eight minutes late already so I grab a handbag, stuff my purse and keys into it and dash.

As I open the door Meg is standing beyond the garden hedge next to the gate, arms folded impatiently as she looks down the lane. "Sorry, Meg," I apologise, "I just had to have a quick shower."

She turns at the sound of my voice and her eyes light up as she gives a low whistle. "Jesus, Sam, you look bloody gorgeous; talk about sex on a stick! Don't worry about being late: it was worth it."

Her reaction makes me all tingly inside; I love it and I cannot help laughing. "Thanks, Meg. I always thought this was a great dress but my ex hated it." She moves to open the gate for me. She is wearing a pale blue sleeveless summer dress -- no, make that a pale blue sleeveless low-cut and very short summer dress. "Wow, Meg! That dress really shows..." and I almost say 'lots of very attractive areas of your smooth, firm flesh' -- which, fortunately, my internal censor realizes is an odd, even inappropriate comment and edits it to, "...really shows off your figure".

"Why, thank you, Sam. Shall we go?" and she links her arm though mine as we walk down the lane towards the village.

Meg wasn't kidding about the walk. She leads us to the village green and then turns right, heading uphill away from the centre of the village. However, it's a lovely evening and walking arm-in-arm and chatting with Meg is very pleasant as she points out landmarks along the way. Even so, I was about to ask 'Are we nearly there yet?' when I hear music and, as we round the bend, there is the village school.

There are people milling around in the playground in front of the school and I can see smoke that, from the smell I now catch, is coming from barbecues and makes my mouth water. "A school dance, really?" I ask.

Meg squeezes my arm and smiles. "No! Okay, it's at the school but it's more of a village mid-summer party. It'll give you the chance to meet people and... oh, come on Sam it'll be fun, trust me." She leads me in through the gate and round the side of the school building to the back where there is a large playing field. Tonight, however, there is a large, open-sided marquee in which a band is playing on a low stage. The area in front is covered in boards to make a dance floor on which a few younger children are moving in time to the music. Most people are sat or standing around chatting, drinking and eating. I'm about to ask if we can get some food when a brown haired girl of ten or eleven runs up.

"Hi Miss Dike!" she says, excitedly.

Meg smiles at her, "Hello, Bethany, how are you?"

"I'm good, thank you, Miss Dike." She looks around and lowers her voice, "Is this your girlfriend?" she glances at me, "She's very pretty!" I'm so shocked by the question I cannot speak.

"No, Bethany, she's not," Meg replies calmly, "and that was a cheeky question! Ms Cummings has just moved into the village so I invited her to come this evening. She is pretty, though, isn't she?" Meg winks at the girl who smiles and scampers off.

"One of your pupils?" I manage to ask and Meg nods. "I can't believe she asked you that!"

"Well, Bethany is a bit of a special case -- her mum, Claire, was a single mum for years. Then a couple of years ago she met and fell in love with Lillian and they moved in together. It was a hard time for Bethany and I ended up as her unofficial support worker. She was worried that her mum was a freak for liking women so I told her about how some people are gay and about myself."

"She seems cool about gay relationships now, anyway. Do many people know about you?"

"You mean because I told you within, like thirty seconds of meeting you? No, you're special, Sam. Only my close friends know... but I felt you were always going to become one of those. My friends will be interested when they see you with me, so you might get the girlfriend question again from one or two people tonight. Are you okay with that?"

"I've been called worse things in my time than the girlfriend of a beautiful woman; I'm sure I'll survive!"

"Ouch! Was that payback for the 'she is pretty' comment to Bethany?"

"Yup!" I smile.

"That's not fair, what I said was true: you are pretty."

"What I said was true too." For the first time since we met, Meg looks unsure of how to take what I've said. Well, I've felt uncomfortable enough times, so serve her right! "Can we get some food?" I plead, changing the subject, "I'm starving!"

As we navigate through the tables and people we encounter Ms Erica Shaw, neighbour and head teacher of this school. She is older, in her late forties or early fifties, but is still quite a striking woman. She is tall with a good looking face that suggests the word 'handsome' rather than 'pretty': attractive, with a refined elegance and poise that comes with experience and confidence, her face showing just a few early age lines. Her straight hair falls to just above her shoulders and while there are still traces of blonde much of her hair is now white. With her pale blue eyes and full mouth I imagine she must have been stunning in her youth.

Meg is friendly to her but I can see she is also a bit in awe, though given that she is, of course, Meg's boss this isn't too surprising.

"Pleased to meet you, Ms Shaw," I tell her as I shake her hand when Meg introduces us.

"Oh, please Samantha, call me Erica."

"Certainly, Erica, but it's Sam not Samantha," and to my surprise I find myself adding, "the name reminds me too much of having a husband, something I'd rather forget."

Erica smiles. "Sam it is. You were due to arrive tomorrow weren't you? I'm surprised to see you here. I'm sorry I haven't called on you to welcome you."

"I decided to come up early to be here when my furniture was delivered so I could supervise. Don't worry though, Meg has been a one-woman welcoming committee and she invited me along. She's been lovely."

"Well, let me add my own welcome, Sam. I'll have to invite you over for tea one afternoon; I'm sure Meg can come too." She smiles at us both, "I must circulate but it's lovely to have met you Sam. This is a lovely village and I'm sure you'll be happy here." We say goodbye as she moves off.

"She's quite a character," I say to Meg, "and, am I wrong but was that 'I'm sure Meg can come too' comment is just 'is she your girlfriend' in a different guise?"

"Maybe," Meg laughs, "but I think she was just fed up that she didn't get to be the first to welcome you. Ms Shaw -- Erica -- is, well, she knows what she wants and makes sure it happens. I do like her though; she is kind and, well, I told you how she helped Laura and me."

As we move towards the food Meg insists on a detour to the bar first, despite my stomach becoming increasingly impatient. "Look," she points out, the bar is almost empty but there's a long queue for the food." I can't fault her logic so over we go. "Hi, Bex," chirps Meg to the girl behind the bar, "they got you working tonight?"

"Yeah. Steve offered me fifty quid if I worked the evening and helped with the clean up tomorrow so what's a poor student to do? I need money if I'm going to Uni in September." she laughs.

"Where do you want to go?" I ask, unable to suppress my interest in a young person's education.

"I'd like to do Psychology at Southampton, if I get the grades in my A Levels; I need two As and a B."

"Wow, that's tough," I commiserate and Bex nods. "Good luck though."

"Yeah, hopefully I managed it. I just have to wait and see. Now, what can I get you both?"

Bex is average height and slim, almost skinny, and with a tiny button of a nose, quite the smallest nose I think I have ever seen, and it makes her look cute, especially with her brown hair tied back into two short pigtails. Meg introduces us before we get onto ordering our drinks. Bex advises avoiding the lethally strong local cider they are serving and so it is glasses of -- yet more -- white wine that we carry over to grab some food.

The food is really good; I guess what they say about local produce being better must be true. We have more wine after I am introduced to numerous people and there are more names than I can possible keep track of, particularly with the alcohol in my veins.

We are sat at a table when we are joined by Dave and Karen, a couple who are friends of Meg's. I know they are close friends when I get the girlfriend question. I also know that I am a bit drunk when, instead of simply saying 'No' I find myself saying, "We only met this afternoon, so there really hasn't been time for that." This answer seems to confuse everyone, including me. What the hell did I mean by saying that?

We all dance a while, the four of us in a group and I find that I am enjoying this evening immensely. After a particularly boisterous dance to the band's rendition of 'Come on, Eileen' we all return to the table, all a little out of breath. Karen leans across to me and says into my ear, "Meg's really taken with you, you know?"

"What? But I'm not gay," I protest.

Karen gives me a searching look. "Okay. If that's the case, then be careful what you say and be gentle on her. I'd hate to see her get hurt."

The band switches to slower numbers and the dance floor starts to fill again. With the second song, Karen stands and drags a semi-reluctant Dave to dance with her. I feel a tugging on my hand and look up to see Meg pulling me. "Come on, let's dance, Sam!"

Is this what Karen was warning me? "I need to rest a bit longer. And I could do with something to drink, too," I tell Meg.

Meg looks disappointed but offers to go and get some drinks. I try to analyse my feelings towards Meg. It is odd, the way we seem to have clicked. I really like her and she evidently likes me. Perhaps 'fancies me' might be more accurate. Am I attracted to her? I don't think so, though she has the most magnetic personality I have ever encountered. However, after the past few months I've no interest in getting with a guy either. What I want, I realize, is a close, intimate but platonic relationship with a woman friend. What I also need is some water but Meg now returns with more wine.

We sit and sip our drinks and as the next song starts, Dave and Karen stay on the dance floor. Meg looks at me hopefully, nodding towards the dance floor and this time I nod. I want to talk to Meg quietly and this seems the best way.

We put our arms around each other but I try to keep a small gap, despite my unsteadiness. I don't want to give Meg the wrong idea. Her hands rest on the bare skin of my waist. "Mmm your skin feels nice," she says softly. "I love this dress of yours. Your ex must have been mad not to like it; you look gorgeous in it and I can caress your skin."