Stepping out, she straightened her white t-shirt over her blue jeans as her eyes did a quick scan of the restaurant. It was mostly empty so she must have spotted me. She shut the door and sauntered around the car, confirming that her parking was good and started to stroll towards the entrance of the building. I watched in admiration from the balcony, heart racing. It was happy hour so in front of me were two vodka-laden long islands, that had just been placed on the table by a very chirpy waiter-Derek, one of which I was desperately trying to drown. As she walked in and went through covid 19 protocols at the security check, I knew I wanted her to fry my vagina until those nerves could speak! “I’m smiling underneath the mask” she shouted. “Well thank god,” I muttered.
Zee and I had been talking, virtually, for a few weeks before we agreed to meet. I was certain she might be a catfish, Nairobi is a fair game City, but I’m a curious soul. I was also titillated, the Zee I saw on Bumble was beautiful. I had long been searching, unsuccessfully, for someone I could turn into a regular seeing as we were in a pandemic. Men are scary on dating apps and most of the women I chatted with were looking for “bff’s”. There was Paula, Nelson and Raymond. Paula was too vanilla and Ray was a psychopath who I suspect was a potential human trafficker, I wish not dive into the details, but I will mention that he was a white American man “working with a startup”. Nelson ghosted me and for the first time in my life I felt something inside of me die. I think it was trust. Not because I was in love, but because I genuinely enjoyed our conversations and I had managed to convince myself that we could be good friends. And now there was Zee, I didn’t know if she was queer, we sent each other lots of winking emojis and I hoped this meant I would soon get on top of her.
We hugged, briefly. I observed her settling down into her seat, tucking away the strap of her sling bag into the wooden support of the arm rest and slowly removed her mask. She was stunning. Derek had already rushed forth and I sat silently as she placed her order, the same choice of drink as mine and chicken wings.
“Okay. Marla, are you gay?” She asked after Derek had walked away.
“What?” I laughed.
“We’ve never talked about it… it’s important we get that out of the way. Marla, I’m a lesbian.” She responded.
“You found me on a dating app…”
“Yeah, but you could just be curious. Looking for a gay friend.” She quipped, cutting me off.
“I like men and women. So far. I am very curious.”
“So, bi?” she asked.
“But you like ‘like’ women?”
“I do. I like ‘like’ you Zee.”
“So far what?” I was confused.
“You said you like men and women so far.”
“I’m a free spirit.” I replied.
She giggled. “That works!”
“What works?” I asked.
“I can maybe take you home.”
I’m going to fuck this girl.
“I want you to sit on my face Marla.”
I’m absolutely going to fuck this girl.
“Wow! I…” I began.
“I’m hoping we both want the same thing Marla.”
“I want to taste your…” Derek came back, food and drinks in hand. We sat in silence, locking eyes every passing second, this time, Derek said nothing. My vulva was yelling! I took off my cardigan, exposing my rouleau strapped bareback top as Derek turned to make leave.
What do you want to taste Zee?
“Mhhh no bra.”
“Zee, why are you looking at my boobs?”
“Your nipples are gawking at me!”
Now I was blushing. “I don’t like bras and this was a very intentional wardrobe choice.”
“I want to squeeze them!”
“Why don’t you?”
“Why not?” The alcohol had checked in, the boisterous sex demons were ready to be heard.
“What if they kick us out?”
“Then they kick us out Zee. And we can tell everyone this place is homophobic.”
“Ha! And yet, I think Derek would enjoy the show too much to do that.”
“Zee, fuck Derek, let me taste your lips.”
She took a sip of her drink. Then took my chin into the palm of her hand, pulled me toward her and kissed me. Her tongue ring danced in my mouth, rolling above and beneath my tongue, it felt foreign but interesting, her lips, soft and my vulva, on bended knee, begging, libidinous. Then she cupped my left boob, gave it a light squeeze from the fullest part of my breast up to my nipple, gently pinched at it. I wanted to scream! We both wore jeans to this date. How foolish.
“We need to finish these drinks.” Zee suggested, I was still in a daze. I glanced around to see if any of the staff was gawking at us.
“You haven’t even touched those wings.”
“This was impulsive. I was confused and nervous when I was ordering.”
“Now, Marla, I want to pin you against something and drink you up.”
“I need to use the bathroom.” I excused myself.
A full bladder and horniness are an ambiguous combo. I was still in one of the stalls when I heard the door to the ladies’ bathroom squeak open then shut. Then I heard running tap water.
I hope that’s her. I hope that’s her. I hope that’s her.
And it was. I walked towards her and I could feel my knees buckle. I wet my hands to wash them, and she stood behind me, ever so gently kissing and nibbling the back of my neck, one hand squeezing my breast and the other trying to manoeuvre its way into my jeans.
“Oh, she’s got no panties on either!”
“I’m going to take you home now Marla.”
The sun had set by the time we cleared the bill. We walked towards Zee’s car, hand in hand. I got into the front passenger seat and she adjusted herself into the driver’s seat, shutting the doors behind us. Our lips locked again, violently.
“Marla, can we jump to the back seat?”
Oh god yes please.
“Oh god yes please!”