The Adult Story Hub

I didn't see or hear from Wendy at all for two weeks following the party; she didn't return my phone call. Just when I was getting ready to kick myself for being such a fool over this woman I could never have, she called me. "Hi!"
"Hi stranger, long time no hear.", I replied, trying to keep ice in my voice; it wasn't working.
"I'm sorry, really. I've just been insanely busy over the last couple of weeks." Right. Insanely fucking Don's brains out, I thought bitterly. She continued, "Can I come over for dinner this week? Remember, you said all I had to do was give you a day's warning, and you'd cook for us."
Glumly, I remembered my promise, tendered early on in our friendship when she was a starving grad student. She wasn't starving anymore, nor was she a grad student; but a promise is a promise. Besides, I figured, I could complain to her about my ex-girlfriend, who had been trying to make a pest of herself recently.
"Wednesday OK?"
"Super! You're a real sweetheart. See ya then!", and she hung up. I wasn't sure at that point whether half a loaf was better than none.
Wednesday, she arrived dressed casually in knock-around shorts and a blouse. The shorts exposed the long legs that I fantasized about, and I drooled. She wasn't dressed up, she wore no makeup; I wanted her anyway, even if she wasn't all glamorous. I also knew better. While dinner was cooking, I brought up the subject of my ex. "Liz has been hanging around lately, going to the places where I hang out, so I'll run into her and have to speak with her."
"Have you tried telling her to fuck off? If she doesn't get the message from that, then she's incredibly dense."
"I suppose I should tell her to leave me alone..."
"The trouble with you is that you're too polite, even in situations which call for nastiness." Once again, she pinned me down, making me feel uncomfortable. I changed the subject abruptly. "Dinner should be ready. So let's eat." Wendy sensed that I was avoiding the subject at hand, and she signaled her displeasure by not talking to me during dinner. I got the message.
After I cleared the dishes, I knew she'd wait for me to talk about Liz. "Liz is really getting on my nerves...", I began, and Wendy jumped in.
"Only because you let her. Sweetie, there are extremely neurotic women out there, just waiting to fuck with your head, because they like being able to do it. She's one of those women, I can tell."
"I guess you're right. But it's so hard for me to tell somebody to eat shit and die." She pulled her cigarettes and holder from her purse. She broke the conversation to ask, "Light, dahling?" I lit it and continued to vent my frustrations. "She never wanted to deal with me unless she had a problem. It was always her, her, her. So when Liz decided to see somebody else, I stopped talking with her, and thought that was the end of it. Now she's trying to...force...", my voice died as she took a drag in that incredibly feminine way of hers'.
"Go on, I'm listening. She was trying to force you to what?", Wendy asked, sitting forward.
"I was saying that she was..." I gave up, and addressed the subject on my mind. "I'm sorry, but do you have any idea of how distracting you are when you do that?"
"Do what?"
"All the little gestures that attend your smoking. There's something that I find fascinatingly feminine about it. Also, I'm going to argue with you. They do make femme fatales in your size." Wendy blinked and looked at me.
"Is it the holder? I'm sorry. I've been using it a lot around the house 'cause I like it, and I thought you wouldn't mind. I'll put it away."
"It's not the femme fatale thing. Sometimes you can be incredibly feminine when you fucking breathe, for chrissakes!"
Silence. She then leaned back in the chair, and took a long, slow drag. She held the smoke for a second, then exhaled a fine stream of smoke. The effect devastated me. I felt a small chill run up my spine. She removed the cigarette from the holder, and put it out. "Feminine, huh?", she asked.
I could only nod, trapped between my fantasies and her presence. "Don never says that about me. I'm female, all right, as far as he's concerned, because we have lots of sex. But feminine is one thing he never mentions to me." I was still speechless. Her mention of sex with Don had broken the spell, but I was wondering where she was going with this conversation.
"Don thought the holder was a gag, and he couldn't understand why I bothered with it. I told him about the femme fatale fantasy, and he just shrugged it off. He still wanted to fuck, so we did, but I never realized until then how important being feminine was to me. I guess since I'm so tall, and not really thin, I have a chip on my shoulder about it or something."
"Well, I've definitely noticed, and I'm sure he does, too.", I bravely said, trying to sound like the neutral friend I was supposed to be. Wendy shook her head.
"No, he doesn't. I'm sure of that." She leaned forward. "You think I'm feminine?"