Danielle Engle - Lavender Excursions

She started her car and headed for the freeway.

The road was clear most of the way back to Chicago. Taryn debated stopping at Trudi's bar and unwinding a little before going home. What the hell , she told herself, turning the car down the street to Larry's Place. She parked in the pay lot next to the bar. After checking to make certain the car alarm was set, she strode across the parking lot.

Larry's Place was hopping. People were lined up at the bar waiting to get drinks. She spotted a couple of familiar faces, but she was not in the mood for company. Acknowledging the women with a smile, she moved on. Not wanting any baby dykes hanging on her arm and drooling over her, she searched for an unobtrusive place to sit.

"Hey, Taryn. How's it going," sounded a familiar voice.

Taryn surveyed nearby tables trying to see who was speaking to her. Suddenly she felt a strong hand slap her across the buttocks, then squeeze her ass cheeks. She gasped. The hands were groping her in a much too intimate manner. When she tried to turn around and see who was behind her, a pair of hands held her firmly in place.

"Now, now," the woman told her. "Settle down, sweet cheeks. It's been a while since I've seen you. Couldn't help myself, sampling the goods." She chuckled and turned Taryn around where she could see her.

"Debbie! I can't believe it's you," Taryn exclaimed. "Where have you been the last three years?"

Debbie Gaylen was Taryn's coming out coach. At a time when Taryn could not distinguish a butch from a femme or a twinkie from a bulldyke, Debbie taught her well. She kissed Taryn on both cheeks, her arm sneaking around her waist and brushing against her nipple.

"Too far away from you. That's for certain," Debbie replied. "Care to join me for a drink?"

"Sure," Taryn said. "Do you have a table?"

"Follow me."

Taryn watched her long-legged friend strut to a table near the dance floor. She wore the requisite black leather pants, a set of gold cufflinks peeking out of her right back pocket and an open leather vest that flapped open as she walked, leaving little to the imagination.

When she turned to see if Taryn was following her, Taryn had a sudden vision of herself kneeling on her hands and knees in front of Debbie. She was waiting, her mouth open, to receive those soft, full nipples that were now teasing her from behind the vest. There was a time when Taryn literally licked Debbie's boots in order to have the privilege of tasting those wonderful breasts. Needless to say, by the time she sat down, Taryn's panties were wet.

Debbie smiled across the table as if reading her thoughts. She sipped a club soda, twirling the lemon slice in the bubbly liquid while looking Taryn over. "You look like you need a fix," she said.

Taryn smiled and gazed into the candle burning in the center of the table. She knew the fix Debbie was referring to and, intoxicating though it might be, it was not drugs. When Taryn left three years ago, Debbie warned her that she was making a mistake. Taryn was determined to prove her wrong. "Still convinced I need a well-hung dyke like you to keep me happy?" she asked.

Debbie grinned and pushed her biker's cap down over her eyes.

"Taryn, Taryn, admit it now. Don't you miss me?" Her vest swung open allowing Taryn a side view of her left breast. She had a cocky and arrogant look on her face.

Taryn wanted to ignore her flirtations, but she could not help but look at what Debbie was offering. Her eyes filled with longing, remembering the way Debbie's nipples would get hard and stiff when she was excited. A familiar ache and longing surfaced and tears for something long past threatened to fall. Taryn's eyes became puffy and swollen as she struggled to hold her sadness in check. She was torn between pride for herself and desire for the woman sitting across the table from her. Why did she have to run into her tonight of all nights?

Taryn looked away, then shrugged. "I miss you, Debbie," she said.

"But I do not miss the lifestyle you offered me." Her eyes defiant, Taryn turned back and stared at the woman who'd taught her first hand how it felt to surrender herself totally to another's control.

Debbie leaned forward and gazed into Taryn's eyes. She sipped the club soda through a straw, her tongue caressing it. Her gaze never faltering, she puzzled over Taryn's response.

Taryn felt mesmerized, her eyes fastened on Debbie's tongue stroking the straw as if it were her lover. Taryn remembered that tongue moving over her mouth, her breasts, and her clit, the way it stroked her and teased her, drove her to her knees begging Debbie to take her.

"Taryn."

Debbie's voice brought Taryn back to reality, to the bar where she'd taken more virgins than she could count. Larry's Place was her kingdom, available when she wanted to stake a claim. Tonight she wanted to be claimed. It was a disconcerting thought. "I'm sorry,"

she said, her face flushing with embarrassment. "You've caught me at one of those times when I've a lot on my mind and not much of it worth sharing." She looked wistfully at the woman sitting across the table from her. "Maybe I need a vacation," she said in a voice so low it was barely audible.

Debbie leaned over and took Taryn's hand in hers. "Come to Veronica's with me – a place where we can talk in privacy and you don't have to worry about someone seeing you or hearing you," she said. "Spend some time with me." Debbie took a deep breath, waiting for Taryn to say something. "Come," she whispered, "let me take you away from all this responsibility for a while." She looked around the bar, which she knew was now Taryn's home territory.

Taryn was trembling. She felt so lost and alone, wanting desperately for someone else to be accountable for her life, to make the decisions in areas where she now faltered. Debbie's eyes looked so trusting, Taryn found her determination faltering in the face of such power. "I'll go," she whispered, "if you promise me one thing."

"What?"

"You know you're one of my weaknesses. Promise me you won't take advantage of it, Debbie." She watched Debbie very closely. "I can't go back to the way things used to be. Not even if I wanted to,"

she added. Her voice was raspy with emotion.

Debbie felt the familiar throbbing. Her breasts, her pussy and other intimate parts of her body longed to have Taryn at her command.

Although Taryn didn't realize it, she was one of Debbie's weaknesses.

"I promise," she told her. She stood and offered Taryn her hand.

Their eyes locked, brimming with a desire so strong that neither woman felt confident she could contain it.

"Let's go," Taryn whispered. She waited while Debbie placed money on the table. After she walked past, Taryn paused as if reconsidering, then followed her out into the cold night air. Chicago had transformed itself into that dark world, the underworld where societal conventions did not have a place. Taryn wondered about the changes, knowing that life would resume its normal pace when the sun rose the next morning. And she, like the world around her, would return to the life she knew. Unless, that is, the dark hunger raging inside of her took rein. She got in her car and followed Debbie to their destination.

Veronica's was located in a very unassuming place in Chicago proper. Debbie slid her security card through the slot outside the entrance. The door opened and they entered a lobby. Debbie placed her hand on a scanner to confirm that she was a member in good standing.

Taryn followed her former lover into the center room. There were tables and chairs scattered about, much like an oversized family room.

The lighting was very subdued, creating a soft, warm ambience that would be very misleading for anyone not familiar with the actual events that took place there each night. Debbie led Taryn to a sitting area near the fireplace.