Something to Write Home About

Please don't think you'll hurt our feelings if you say no. It's totally cool to leave things as they are, with the memory of you burning brightly in my mind, as it will the rest of my days.

XO,

Phil

— Phil,

Yes please! But I should say I've never been with a woman. Poppy might be disappointed. It's funny how connected I felt to her when we met. An odd feeling, but very nice. As I pulled away and looked at her in the mirror she looked so sexy. Older women usually don't hit me that way, but she did.

We already share you, in a way, so sharing you together makes sense, right? And really, I'd be with you again under just about any circumstances. To have you ask me back makes me happier than you can imagine.

The details were worked out and Maddie spent the entire next night and morning in the motorhome. Poppy had never been with a woman either, so the two girls explored and experimented on each other, with willing participation and fascinated observation by Reaves. It was a blissful night, with a few hours of sleep in a warm tangle under a blanket. No clothes were worn by any of them from the time Maddie stripped out of her restaurant waitress uniform when she arrived until she reluctantly put it on again at noon the next day for her departure.

"My roommate will never, ever believe I did all this," Maddie said as the three of them were naked in bed, eating donuts after some slow, sensuous early morning love-making.

Poppy got her cellphone and took a selfie — she and Maddie bare-breasted and smiling while Reaves licked Maddie's pussy, his face not visible. "There," Poppy said. "Proof. I'll send it to you."

———————

Back on the road again, with the unknown still ahead of them, both Reaves and Poppy wondered if anything could top what had happened in Charlottesville. Poppy had two eye opening, mind altering experiences, both powerful and empowering in their own way, and Reaves, well, he'd just about fallen in love with Maddie.

A leisurely eight hour drive across the Appalachian Mountains brought them to Lexington Kentucky. Poppy had fallen into a place of deep relaxation on the trip, reclining in the plush passenger's seat wearing only her bra and panties for most of the way, listening to music as she reflected on her life with her father. Reaves could tell she was in a contemplative mood, so conversation was minimal. Her middle-age beauty was on full display through the massive windshield, and they had quite a few laughs at the way traffic altered as male drivers angled for a better view. Appreciative truckers gave loud blasts of their horns.

"I wonder if this is were the term 'horny' comes from," Reaves laughed at one point after a particularly long blast.

Poppy composed a long e-mail to her friend Sonya as they drove, telling her about her first experience making love to another woman...

— Sonya,

We've already talked about my rugby man, so now on to chapter two of the Charlottesville story. For lack of a better thought, I'll start this the same way as before...

Have you ever dreamt of making love to a woman? I know I have, many times. I'm not sure why it never happened before — I've been a sexual woman for over thirty years now, but for some reason I'd never taken that plunge. Well I plunged yesterday, dove right in, and the water was heavenly. Reaves and I spent eighteen hours with an angelic college student named Maddie.

The experience was so different than sex with a man, even a gentle, caring man like Reaves. Perhaps some of it had to do with the fact that it was the first time for her too, being with a woman I mean. And with Reaves there to fill us whenever and wherever we wanted to be filled, well, it was as good as it gets, I'm sure of that.

I'm writing to you on the road to Kentucky. I'm sitting here in my smallest bra and panties, very much on display to the traffic around us. Truckers are blowing their horns and blowing me kisses. Can you believe it? Me? I can scarcely believe it myself, and yet here I am. If I've learned anything this past week it's that hiding one's true self is a waste of one's life. Best to grab hold of the spinning merry-go-round and hurl one's self aboard. It might be the ride of your life, as I'm finding out.

So have you, I wonder? Dreamt of making love to a woman? Or maybe you've done it already, and you're way ahead of me? Maybe you've experienced the taste of a woman, that slippery, wet sweetness between her legs that coats your tongue and fills your senses. Maybe your tongue has made a woman cum, her squirming softness pressing hard against your mouth as you drink it all in — the sight, the sound, the scent and the taste of her. Maybe you've kissed a woman right after you made her cum, both of your hearts still pounding as you share the taste of her in your mouth. Kissing a woman is the most amazing thing, so soft, like floating on a cloud.

You know, I've touched and fondled my own tits, even masturbated while playing with them, as I'm sure most women have, but touching another woman's, well that's just something I can't even describe. Maddie's are smaller than ours, but perfect, the way nineteen-year-old tits are. I remember mine at nineteen, and I remember yours when we first met at twenty-two. The first time we went to the beach together...I vividly remember yours that day. Do you remember that day Sonya? We both bought tiny little bikinis and giggled as boys looked at us. I must have been looking at you more than the boys that day, because I can still see you in my mind's eye, standing there with your beautiful smile, and the boys have all vanished from my memory.

I'm in a contemplative mood today. Thinking of Dad, trying to orient my memories of him away from the last few months, back to the happy times. It's working. I feel like I'm in a good place right now. A place of love and appreciation.

Mom and Dad, they were always free with their bodies, in a way I've never been until this week. There was often nudity in the house, until they sensed me becoming uncomfortable with it when I was a young teen. Swimming remained au naturale throughout their lives though, as I'm sure you remember Sonya! I'll never forget the look on your face when we went to visit them at that cottage they rented and they both walked out in their birthday suits for a swim. Remember how we laughed afterwards?

We have so many shared memories, you and I. I wonder, do we have any shared dreams?

XO,

Poppy

"You writing a book of your own?" Reaves asked as Poppy typed on her laptop.

"Just catching up on some e-mails. A long one to Sonya, and a few others."

"Tell me about this mysterious Sonya," Reaves said as the big motorhome hummed along on the long, open road.

Poppy set the laptop down and relaxed even more in the big, cushy seat.

"We met when we were twenty-two, fresh out of college. It was a crappy waitress job, but she made it so much fun. You know those kind of people? Both of us were looking for real jobs, but needed something to keep us going. We ended up sharing an apartment out in Queens. My mom and dad just loved her. She's really pretty, so my dad...he always had an eye for the ladies, and Mom, she just hit it off with Sonya like she was another daughter. It was interesting to watch, because Sonya comes from a strict, religious family, and my folks were from the opposite side of the spectrum. The funny thing is I grew up a little uptight, and she was less so. I guess it's true what they say about kids wanting to be different from their parents."

"So what does 'really pretty' mean in descriptive terms," Reaves asked.

"She's a redhead. Dyes it now, but it's her real color. It's funny how that's become popular, isn't it? When I was a kid redheads were almost freaks. It wasn't anything anybody aspired to. If you were going to dye your hair you went blonde. Anyway, she's got beautiful red hair, and blue eyes," Poppy said. She was gazing out at the road, and Reaves could sense something more than friendship between she and Sonya. "They're those blue eyes that cut right through you, like crystal blue, you know what I mean? She's always turned men's heads, but it's more than the eyes doing it. She's always thought she was fat, but I don't think so. It's more like that voluptuousness that was in style back in the fifties, you know? She used to rock a bikini, I'll tell you that."

"So what have you been e-mailing her? Are you telling her all the juicy details?"

Poppy looked at Reaves and smiled. "Would you mind if I was?"

"Not a bit," Reaves said. A trucker pulled up alongside. Poppy blew him a kiss and Reaves smiled.

"I just told her about Maddie, and I've told her about you, and my rugby man. Pretty much everything I guess," Poppy laughed.

"What does she think about your adventure?"

"She says she's jealous. I'll be interested to hear what she thinks about Maddie. I sort of hinted at some thoughts I've had in the past."

"Really! Now were getting somewhere! Do tell!" Reaves smiled.

Poppy took a deep breath. "It goes way back actually. She was kinda smokin' hot when we first met. Being roommates back then, there was lots of underwear, and some bare tits now and then. Never anything sexual, just girls living together. She had boys there more than me, and I was like this crazy voyeur. I used to think I was sick, but looking back, I don't think I was. It was just my sex drive trying to assert itself. I fought it though. Boy, did I fight it back then," Poppy laughed. "So she had boys around, and I'd listen to them when they were together. Even watched a couple of times, not out in the open of course. One of the boys saw me watching and tried to get with me after, because he thought it was him I was interested in. That was what sort of made me realize it was Sonya I was interested in. It was her I was listening too and watching. Nothing ever came of it. I didn't want to risk our friendship by saying anything, and I didn't even know what I wanted anyway. It was all very confusing because I really liked boys. Of course as two-and-a-half decades have gone by and sexual attitudes have changed, there's this whole bi-sexual thing that I didn't even know about back then. I marched into adulthood pathetically unaware of so many things. When did you learn about all this stuff?"

"Boy, I don't know. I can't really put my finger on it. I guess the porn revolution, with the internet, that sort of opened my eyes to a lot," Reaves said.

"Yeah, I mean that made me aware, but none of it really seemed real until you started e-mailing me with your adventures," Poppy said. "And even that didn't quite register until I joined you. There's nothin' like real life to slap you in the face and wake you up."

"So what's Sonya's story these days? Is she married or anything?"

"She was. A long marriage to a nice guy. She has a daughter, Lauren. She's twenty-two now. It was a good, happy marriage. Three years ago he disappeared for two weeks with another woman. That was the end of that."

"Ouch. She dating or anything?"

"Nothing worth writing e-mails about, no."

"Maybe you can teach her the ways of the list when you get back," Reaves said.

Poppy smirked. "I'd like to teach her more than that."

———————

Central Kentucky. Green pastures, white fences, thoroughbred horses. An RV park right in the center of just such a setting. Idyllic, especially when compared to a Walmart parking lot in Scranton.

"What did you do!" Poppy said as she looked over the ads they had posted.

They'd worked up two different 'couple' ads. One mw4m and one mw4w. In the ad looking for a man to join them Reaves had added a sentence. Well hung, 8" or bigger to the front of the line.

"I thought you might like it," Reaves smiled.

"Oh my God!" Poppy said with a devilish little smile.

"It'll give you something good to write Sonya about."

"As if you're not big enough!" Poppy said.

They had posted five ads in total — they each had their singles ads, the two couples ads, and the 'looking for an orgy' ad for good measure. The next morning they checked their e-mails. Not surprisingly Poppy received the most action, although she weeded out all the poorly written and creepy ones, leaving only one to reply to. Reaves wasn't so picky. Still thinking of the 'research' angle, he replied to every response to his ad, and quite a few ads placed by women looking for men. The couples ads had no hits, and the orgy ad gathered dust as well.

The e-mail that drew most of Poppy's attention was from Sonya. She was anxious to read it, but was interrupted — the couple from the RV next door walked over, morning coffee in hand, when they saw Reaves and Poppy outside with their laptops.

"Hi neighbors!" the man said. "I'm Don and this is my wife Rita."

They were a well groomed couple, even at the relatively early morning hour, dressed in shorts and shirts that would look right at home at a country club. Don, tall and smoothly bald with a close cropped white beard, smiled as he looked things over.

"So this is that new Thor model huh? I love the cab. That must be a hell of a view out that big windshield. Hate to have to fix a cracked one though. Is this the one with the queen bunk in the back?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's the one. I'm Reaves, this is Poppy. Nice to meet you folks."

Rita sat down with Poppy while the men walked around the RV, looked it over, and then wandered next door as Don pointed out things on his big Winnebago.

"So how long have you been on the road?" Rita asked Poppy.

"Let's see, this is only day four I guess," Poppy said. "That's hard to believe...so much has happened..."

"From the look on your face I'm guessing you're not talking about problems," Rita said.

"No, no. It's all good," Poppy said with a dreamy look. Rita's smooth legs caught her eye.

"Reaves is a handsome guy. I'm always a little jealous when I see a woman with a younger man," Rita winked, with a little smile.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Poppy said as the men wandered back into the conversation.

"Are you two on your honeymoon?" Rita asked Reaves.

"No, just a pleasure trip. Poppy's clearing her head from the real world for a couple weeks," Reaves said.

"Ooo! Sounds like fun!" Rita said. "The real world can be such a bore."

Reaves smiled at the smiling Rita. Her eyes were hidden behind lightly tinted sunglasses, but he could tell they had make-up on them, mascara and eye-liner, maybe more. Her whole face had a bit too much make-up, especially for morning at a campground, but she was an attractive woman, in her late fifties he assumed, with a body that was hanging in there nicely. With her short, blonde hair and trim frame, she reminded him of Helen Mirren.

"You probably already know the best way to shut out the real world," Don said. "They make the best bourbon in the world around here."

"Oh, yeah, Kentucky Bourbon. I hadn't thought of that," Reaves said.

"You really need to pick some up while you're here," Don said. "These days there's a lot of small batch bottlers. It's really wonderful stuff. I always stock up for the year while we're around these parts. Would you like to come by and sample some later? We could take a stab at making the real world go away."

"That's a wonderful idea," Rita said. "Do you have plans?"

"Well, we're not sure yet," Reaves said. "We're trying to get together with some friends, but we haven't heard from them yet."

"We'll just be here, doin' our thing, so wander on over if you find yourselves at loose ends this evening. It was nice meeting you both," Rita said.

Poppy picked up her laptop after they left, anxious to read Sonya's e-mail...

— My Dearest Poppy,

My heart is in my throat as I type these words. Yes, we do, it seems, have a shared dream. Let me put it this way — the vision of you in my mind's eye, of you sitting there in your smallest bra and panties, writing to me about your feelings for me as truckers blow their horns and blow you kisses...I can't even put into words how that makes me feel. I've loved you Poppy, since the first day we met. I've hidden it behind friendship, but it's love, pure and simple. No, I'm not a closet lesbian, at least I don't think so, and, like you (at least until your experience the other day), I've never experienced physical love with a woman. But oh how I've longed to touch you, to kiss you, to feel your softness and your warmth.

It's such an odd feeling Poppy, to be letting these feelings out into the open. I'm literally trembling with fear, worried that our friendship won't be able to handle this, even though I know you, and I know me, and I know it will. We're friends till death, you and me, I know that in my heart, but that doesn't make bringing these feelings to light any less surreal.

So what, may I ask, my wise and sage friend, do we do now? Do I kiss you when you come home? That 'floating on a cloud' kiss you speak of, the one I've long dreamed of? Do I touch those most perfect breasts in all the world? The ones that tiny bikini at the beach all those years ago barely hid? Yes, I was looking at you more than the boys that day too. You were shear perfection that day, so unaffected and natural in your skin. I remember being confused, and I guess I have been ever since I met you twenty-six years ago. Bisexuality? Good lord, it's such a concept, isn't it? Before today it was always an amorphous, unreal kind of thing, but today it strikes me as the most wonderful idea in all the world. Would I like it? Will I like it? Will I have the courage? Will you help me, take my hand, guide me? Oh how I long to look into your eyes right now...

Much love,

Sonya

Tears were rolling down Poppy's cheeks when Reaves walked out with two cups of coffee. "You okay?" he said.

Poppy sniffled and smiled. "Yeah. Letter from Sonya."

"Good I hope," Reaves said, handing her a cup.

"The best. I think I might go home."

"Ohhh!" Reaves said sadly. "If you need to, yeah, but I can't even tell you how much I'll miss you."

Poppy wiped a few more tears. "I've never felt such powerful friendships in all my life," she said, sniffling some more. "You've changed my life Reaves Philip, at a time when I needed it most. Don't worry, I'm not going to bolt. I'll think it over today. I need to write Sonya though. She really put her heart out there on the line."

— Dear Sweet Sonya,

The love I feel for you right now is nearly overwhelming. How lucky were we, the day you walked into Moe's Restaurant? I should have been jealous of you — those curves and that hair and those eyes. The way the men tipped you more than me. But I wasn't. I knew you were something special right from day one. Living with you was the most fun I've ever had with my clothes on, and now I'm wishing I'd taken a page out of my parent's book and made our cohabitation clothing optional. Would we have taken the plunge and kissed each other? 'We could have' or 'we should have' isn't very productive though. 'We can' is a much lovelier thought, don't you think? We cankiss each other. We can touch each others warm bodies. We can lick each other to sweet, glorious orgasms. There never were any rules, but the ones we mistakenly thought were in effect are banished from now on. Life is much too short for imaginary rules.

I'm thinking of cutting my trip short and coming home. I, too, long to look into your eyes, those crystal blue pools of magic that have captivated me for half my life. I don't suppose you could get some time off and join me here on the road with Reaves? Now that would be something to write home about, wouldn't it? :-)

Love you,

Poppy

After a walk around the park there was a reply...

— Poppy,

Do not, I repeat, do not cut your trip short because of me. I know how long it's been since you've had a proper vacation, and after the time you've had taking care of your father you deserve this R+R. And think of the discoveries you've made in just a few short days. It would be a shame to put an end to it so soon.