Chapter Text
You sat bored at a cocktail party. For a company of stuck up snobs and business men you don't even work for. Your close friend invited you. Said she 'didn't want to come alone' and 'hated attending these things without a plus one'. You considered telling her off. Telling her 'just don't come then'. But stating the obvious was useless to her. You knew her. Either you had to make a believable excuse or suck it up, and attend.
So, here you were. You didn't even know why she asked you to be here considering she had been gone the vast majority of the night. You were left all alone, as embarrassing as that is.
Nobody bothered speaking to you, or introducing themselves. And neither did you, frankly. They were all too wrapped up with their corporate shmuck. You simply blended into the background with the gaudy, obnoxious decor and waiters with champagne glasses on fake golden serving trays. You were about as important to the attendees here as those serving trays were. Less, probably.
Among the sea of individuals, your friend disappeared. And they all looked the same, too, even her. Faux elegant clothing, and un-unique faces. The same carbon copied man or woman over and over again. Nobody struck your fancy. Not for a hook up, not even for a conversation. They all looked miserable to speak with. You'd rather be alone. No, you'd rather leave. But God knows you'll hear it from your 'friend' if you did.
Among those people, however, was one woman. You've never seen her before, of course. You've never heard your friend mention anybody like her working at their company before, either. But God, did she catch your eye.
Your gaze followed her every move throughout the night. As she roamed around like a graceful ghost floating from person to person. She engaged in those bogus conversations. Filled with social niceties and fake concern for one another. But she did it differently. She was genuine. She was real. She knew how to command a conversation, let alone a room. From across the room, she could command your attention by simply existing. A small chuckle, a playful shrug of the shoulder. You found yourself hypnotized by her every damn move.
A small part of you wanted to speak to her so badly. About anything, but a larger part of you stopped yourself. Insecurity, maybe. The last thing you wanted to do was make a fool of yourself in front of a woman like her. Not to mention, deep down, you knew your real intentions. And realistically, she was way out of your league. Plus, she looked significantly older than you, too. At least 20, if not 30 years older. Given your love life as of late, as well, and your recent break up… Would a rebound with an older woman, likely double your age be all that good of an idea? Hell, she's probably your friend's coworker, anyway. Yeah, no way. And does she even like women?!
Nevertheless, no amount of logic in the world can supersede desire. Want is an irrational thing sometimes, it's elusive. Self-restraint might snuff out the ability to carry through with it, but it'll never go away. Not without time, or the happenstance of fate.
And that's where you found yourself. Starstruck by her completely. You couldn't stop thinking about her, searching for her in the crowd whenever you lost sight of her. You wanted to look at her, talk to her. Hear her beautiful voice for once, whatever it sounded like. You wanted to see her up close, smell her perfume… feel her soft skin.
To nuzzle your nose into that gorgeous, fluffy hair of hers. Feel your hand trace the shape of her curves in that elegant, deep maroon velvet cocktail dress that clung to her shapely frame. Hear her whisper nasty things into your ear. Feel her gorgeous tits in your hands, the excess weight spilling out the gaps in your fingers. Have her hands touching and groping you all over. Feel your two bodies meld into one another. Become one.
Every so often, you'd catch yourself staring at her. Lost in these dirty thoughts. You didn't mean it, you couldn't help it. Lord knows the vulnerable state your heart has been left in as of now. You were just lonely. You wanted to feel loved by someone. Someone you admired. Like her. But you still felt guilty. Fantasizing so inappropriately, in a public place, about a woman you don't even know? A woman your friend works with. A woman who is so far above you, you're practically as worthy to her as a speck of dust on these floors beneath her shoe is. And you know this. Lord, you knew your issues with your own mother were bad, but were they this bad? To be fawning over a lady like her? You felt like a pervert. Maybe because that's what you were.
Besides, you knew it'd never work. She probably liked men, hell, she was probably married to one. What would a woman of her age and class want to do with a poor, 20s something art student from downtown Denver? Nothing, reasonably. You had nothing to offer to her. Except for your body, like she'd even want it. Even if she did, you worried you'd ruin the hook up. With how much of a mess you've been emotionally, you had a deep, unsettling feeling you'd end up just crying on her shoulder the whole night. Yikes.
And yet, this was one of those times, where you found yourself staring. Thinking about all this within split seconds, a cacophony of mixed thoughts and emotions. Coming back down to your senses, you forced yourself to tear your eyes off her. But this time, God, was it in your imagination? Or… was she really looking at you? Did she see you? She hadn't—by the grace of God—noticed you all the other times. Not that you know of, but as you glanced away this time, in the stray fields of your vision, you could've sworn you saw her looking right at you. Right at your face. With an almost predatory smile on hers.
You felt your cheeks fill with color, while you desperately searched around for a distraction. Anything, to make it not look like you were staring like a total creep. You brought your attention back to the poorly drawn unicorn you doodled on a cocktail napkin when the night started. For an art student, you could really do a lot better than that. Then again, it was made in maybe 30 seconds and out of sheer desperation from crippling boredom.
As you stared at your napkin like a buffoon, you heard something. Something getting louder. Footsteps. High heels on the laminate floors. And they were approaching you.
“Hi, there,” a voice spoke. It was low and breathy, but distinctly feminine.
You slowly lifted your head, and there she was.
In all her glory.
You couldn't believe your eyes.
She truly looked like a goddess, even more so up close. You were in utter disbelief. That you could be in the same room as someone like her, let alone have her talking to you, of all people! Was this a dream? It had to be.
You took this moment to take her in, really take her in. Good Lord, she was gorgeous. Like Aphrodite. A voluptuous body that was delicately soft around the edges. A rack for days, like Jesus Christ. With the way they were pressed up perfectly together, she had to be wearing a strapless push up bra underneath her dress. Her cleavage was damn near staring at you like a pair of eyes. Begging you to look at it. And that luxurious dress she wore. Soft and velvety, a deep red color with skimpy straps hardly able to hold itself up around her shoulders. It dipped into all the right places.
Your eyes traveled up to her face. She had a very nice jawline, even with a slight double chin. Plump lips painted in ruby red gloss and a beautiful nose that had a gentle curve to it. She wore thick-framed, amber colored glasses with a swirl-like pattern throughout them. Behind crystal clear lenses, were the biggest green eyes you had ever seen. A small coat of eyeliner painted at the corners of heavy-hooded lids covered in smokey dark brown eyeshadow. And behind those eyes, was a sense of knowing. Control. Calm and calculated confidence, like she could predict your every move. There wasn't a secret or a tell you could hide from her.
She had perfectly manicured eyebrows, too, and fluffy hair. Gorgeous, short, dirty blonde hair. The kind of style that older women wear when they grow tired of the maintenance required of the longer hair from their youth. It looked similar to how Madonna wore her hair in the late 80s, just a bit less curly. Maybe a tad thicker, too.
And there she was, in her entirety, standing in front of you. Right in front of you, looking at you expectantly. Waiting for you to respond. She had a hand on the table with her shoulder curving up, another on her hip, cocked out to the side. A smug smirk on her face. Patiently waiting.
The second you laid eyes on her, your tongue tied into a thousand knots. All words you've ever learned in the english language, you had seemly forgotten within a snap of the fingers. Your jaw was moving slightly, open and closed, like you were attempting to speak. But nothing came out. No words, not even a breath. Your wide eyes were fixed on her, and embarrassingly so, on her breasts.
You heard her giggle. Oh, God, it was so cute.
“Hon, my eyes are up here,” she said calmly. She pointed to fingers towards you, and you followed blindly as she pointed them up to where you’re supposed to look. She smiled sweetly at you. You felt your entire face go red hot. Did she just call you hon? Were you really just staring at her tits?! Way to go. Bound to make a long-lasting first impression, that's for sure.
She swiftly slipped into the chair opposite from you, around the large and otherwise empty table you had been sitting at for God knows how long. She propped her elbows up on the table cloth, chin resting on the backs of her hands with fingers interlocked together. She looked at you with curiosity. It made you feel even more awkward, like an observed zoo animal.
“I saw you staring at me,” she said finally. Could your cheeks get any redder right now?!
You couldn't speak, still lost for words and painfully nervous. You swore to God your heart was about to jump out of your chest and walk right out of this building. Leaving you to die in front of her and probably scar her for life.
“You know… You could've just come up and talked to me, honey. I'm not a magical creature or a cryptid. You can speak to me, baby. I don't bite.” Her voice was so smooth, and soft spoken yet firm at the same time. It was making you feel dizzy.
“I, uh- sorry.”
She smiled again. “Honey, please. Don't be. There's no need to be so shy around me!” She moved her hand closer to you, reaching for yours that laid limp on the table. Your heart skipped a bit—no—it stopped fully for a few moments. Your first instinct was to pull away but somehow you overrode that, and you let her touch you. God, her skin was softer than you imagined. Like silk, or butter. She gently rubbed the top of your hand with her thumb, soothing circles into your skin. All the while, she never took her eyes off you. When has someone ever looked at you that way? Your ex girlfriend—certainly never. She wouldn't even look at you at all for those last few months in the end.
“You're very pretty, you know.” Her voice shook you out of your daze.
“H-huh?”
She giggled again. “I said, you're very pretty.”
“O-oh… yes, uhm- thank you. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
She continued to hold your hand so carefully in hers, like as to not damage a flower petal. Eventually, though, she pulled away, leaving you feeling lonelier than you felt before. She cleared her throat.
“So. What's your name, darling? You haven't even told me yet, haha.”
Your mind whirled for a second, lagging like an internet browser from the ancient days before you stumbled over your answer.
“Gorgeous name. It really suits you. I'm Billie.” She reached her hand out once more, this time to shake yours. Her handshake was surprisingly firm from someone her size, and those dainty hands. Oh, gosh, those hands. Another thing for you to… think about.
“Well then… What brings you here? Are you a new hire or…?”
You shook your head. “No, no… My- friend invited me here. She didn't have a partner to go with so she roped me into it.”
“Ah… Yes, that makes more sense. I would probably know if there's a new hire here. I'm head of the design department-”
“Design?” You repeated.
“Mhm. Why?”
Holy shit. Was… was this your friends boss? No, no way. She wasn't anything like how she described. Your friend—she complained about her boss like she was the fucking wicked witch. An evil, mean, ugly and crotchety old bag. Billie, though? No way—she couldn't be farther from that. But that name… it sounded familiar. You could've sworn her bosses name started with a B. Bailey, or… Billie.
“Oh, nothing.”
She nodded slowly. “Who's your friend?”
Fuck. She was onto you, wasn't she?
You couldn't lie. You had no way to or an excuse ready to go, anyway. So you answered truthfully.
“Ah… yes. Her, she's an employee of mine. Very smart. I wish she worked harder, though. But… you don't seem much like her. I'm surprised you two are friends.”
“Oh. Aha, I met her last year. I was a freshmen at art school, she was a senior.”
“That checks out. She's very good in our graphic design field. Again, bit of a slacker. Just don't tell her I told you that.” She winked playfully at you, and you could feel yourself go all light-headed again.
“Have you had a nice night so far, at least?” she asked.
You hate to let her down, but you shook your head. “Not… not really. She kinda up and left me a while ago. I haven’t seen her much since.”
Billie frowned, but nodded somberly. “Sounds like her work ethic. Disappoints me that such a smart, young girl is so flakey. Why couldn’t she have brought someone else?”
You hesitated for a moment. Was it really any of your business to be airing her dirty laundry? Not at all, but for whatever reason, you couldn’t seem to lie to Billie. Not even a blatant one, one simply by omission. Even that was too much to ask.
“She- sort of… got dumped a while back? She usually would bring her boyfriend to these things. So, I guess she had no one else to call.”
Billie sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, my. That’s awful. I’m very sorry. Well, she’s better off without him!” She waved her hand in a dismissive, joking manner, that elicited a small chuckle out of you.
“Well, what about you then, hon? You came alone, no? You on the market, too?” As she spoke, she fluttered her lashes at you. You could feel another lump form in your throat.
“Oh! Aha…um. Yeah, I guess so.” Your voice broke at the end of your sentence. You couldn’t help it. You’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. Against your will, really.
Billie’s expression softened, to one of concern. “Have you gotten your heartbroken, too?”
A few tears began to pool in the corners of your eyes. You looked down immediately. You didn’t want her to see you cry. You didn’t wanna cry. Lord, how embarrassing would that be. Even if a smoking hot woman wasn’t sitting a few feet away from you. You dabbed your eyes with your napkin and let out an awkward chuckled.
“I, uhm… Yeah. ‘Guess so, haha… It was actually kind of recently, too,” you admitted.
“Oh, baby doll…” She scooted her chair over closer a few notches, and placed a gentle hand on your back. It rubbed comfortingly, up and down, and then in circles. God, it’s like she knew how to push your buttons but in the best way possible. How could she know you so well already?
“Trust me when I say, hon—you do not need him. Whoever he is, or was. Men are pigs. We’re so much better off without ‘em.”
You chuckled softly under your breath. When you titled your head to look at her, now so much closer, you felt the strangest feeling of butterflies dancing around in you stomach. Your breath hitched when you smelled her perfume. It damn near suffocated you from how strong it was. Yet it’s all you ever wanted to smell from now on. God, how you wished she would make you smell like her. Make you hers, utterly owned by her.
You two paused to look each other in the eyes, but it felt like an eternity to you. Like all of time stopped. Your breathing, your heart. Totally frozen in space. For a moment, you even thought she was about to kiss you. At least, that’s what you hoped for. More than anything. But then, with her left hand still on your back, she leaned in and brought her right up to your face, gently catching a tear from your cheek and swiping it away with the pad of her thumb.
“Gosh… You’re even beautiful when you cry.”
Your ability to think or speak or even breath was all halted. You had never been so infatuated by a stranger before. Let alone an older woman, who was being so doting to you tonight. And for what reason?
“Th…thank you.”
“Of course. Gosh… men, so ungrateful. How could he sacrifice someone like you?”
You put a hand on her wrist, the one still cradling your cheek. You wanted her to touch you forever. Never stop. You wanted more, but you couldn’t ask for it.
“Actually, uh, ha… It- it was a woman. I’m-”
“Oh?”
Her tone shook something deep inside you.
“You like women?”
“Mhm… basically only women.”
“Really?”
Something about her shifted. It made you scared. Like… you were being hunted. That predatory smile returned to her face. There was a glint behind her eyes. Almost unreadable, but noticeable. She was planning something.
“Well, a man doesn't deserve you anyway. I cannot believe another lady would give you up like that. My goodness, and I held us to higher standards! Well, darling. She’s not worthy of you, that’s for certain. Trust me when I say that much. I can’t believe it, a girl like yourself… wow.” She couldn’t finish her sentence, her tone giving way to genuine amazement. It made you blush like never before. Instead from adoration, and not embarrassment.
“I… thank you.”
“Oh, you’re more than welcome.”
You weren’t looking when it happened. You were looking in her eyes. So deep and dark. Something brewing behind them when you felt her hand move lower from you spine. Lower, and lower… Until it snaked around your waist.
You tensed up, her smiled widened. Neither of you said a thing.
“S-so. Are you married?” You said.
Suddenly, like everything that had happened in the last few minutes was all an illusion. Real only in the twilight zone, she snapped out of it. She scooted her chair back, and her relaxed, formal composure returned. Yet something was still different.
“Oh, heavens, no! Honey, I haven’t been for a long time. It ain’t worth my energy. My work is what's most important to me. My art. I’m sure you understand.” Then she paused, before leaning back in, an arm rested on the table. She looked at you daringly. “I’ll… let you in on a little secret of mine.”
You raised your eyebrow, eager to know what it could possibly be.
“I’m like you, y’know. Men, they- they bore me. I’ve always rather much preferred the company of another woman.”
You leaned away, your eyes darted around the place, processing what you just were told.
She? Her? Billie? Of all women… Is gay? No way.
How lucky are you?
But you can’t get ahead of yourself. Not at all. It doesn’t matter how badly you wanna sleep with her. She’s your friend’s boss. She’s so much older than you. You hardly know her and everybody knows a hookup after a break up is usually not a very good idea for your self esteem during such a fragile time.
But truly, how could you resist? If she’d take you… you’d let her in a heartbeat.
“That’s… That’s awesome. I woulda thought you were married, like, to a guy.”
She laughed sweetly. “A lot of people think that. I get it. I’m a woman in her 50s. I’m successful, I have kids, but. I realized I couldn’t put up with men much longer. They ground my gears like no other. Lazy slobs, eugh! They aren’t magical like women. They aren’t beautiful. They don’t understand me like another woman does. You only have so much time to live on this god forsaken planet, why waste it on someone who doesn’t love you?”
When she stopped speaking, she rested her head on her closed hand, knuckles mushing up her cheek. She looked at you with such kind, fond eyes. Almost… motherly. That’s it. It felt like this whole time she hd been acting so motherly toward you. Talking to you when no one else would, comforting you, complimenting you. Maybe that’s what had turned you stupid. You couldn’t remember what it was like to have someone in such a maternal role actually give a fuck about you.
Your mother certainly never did.
And her advice was absolutely right. God, she was so smart, too?
Your nerves were still on fire, maybe more than ever. You couldn’t find anything else to say. All regular conversation topics seemed painfully boring to you and you were scared you’d lose her interest. That she’d go off and find another, older and far more suitable woman to talk to.
You rubbed at your thighs, trying to think of anything, anything at all to say. You felt so uncomfortable, like you were about to throw up all over this table or bawl even harder than before.
You noticed you had barely drank any of your champagne the entire night. It was flat and probably warm by now, but you didn’t care. You swiftly snatched it up and drank it in one gulp. Anything to take the edge off. Booze helps, maybe a smoke would too, but you didn’t have on one you right now. And you wouldn’t wanna get up and abandon her just for a smoke break.
You slammed the glass back down, and it’s when she giggled that you noticed she was even still there.
“Thirsty much?”
“Y-Yeah. You could say that.”
“Would you like me to get you another one? I could use a drink myself, hon. Lord, these parties are a drag.”
“Ha… yeah, totally. They are. That’d be nice, though. Thank you.”
Slowly, she lifted out of her chair. Your eyes followed her gorgeous body as it towered over you now.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t go running off without me.”
By now, the night was almost over. You and Billie had talked endlessly. But now things were closing in, a vast majority of people left. You hadn’t seen your friend at all now. You wondered if she left without you. Go figure. Well, you drove here alone anyway.
When Billie offered to get you another drink, that quickly turned into another. Then another. You were on your… 4th champagne? You lost count. All the while, she had been sipping on a glass of whiskey excruciatingly slowly. She was merely loosened up, contently calmed by the buzz of the liquor. Meanwhile, you were tipsy, tearing on the point of considerably drunk. All those worries, however. The ‘edge’. Your nerves, your inhibitions were gone. You win some, you lose some, you supposed.
“Looks like things are wrapping up…” she said dreamily.
You lifted your head up to see she was right. The hall was definitely emptier.
“Oh, yeah. Huh.”
You two fell silent for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward like before. More… bittersweet. That kind of feeling you get at the end of an outing with friends. When you know something good has to come to an end.
“Welp!” you said, almost exclaimed, as you shot up out of your feet to unsteady gait. You fished through your pockets for your car keys. You found them and pulled them out. “Guess I gotta get home,” you slurred.
Billie looked at you, vexed. “Hon. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why?” You challenged, a bit obstinate.
“Sweet pea,” she said gently. “You’re drunk.”
You scoffed. “I’m perfectly fine!” You knew you were lying. You just didn’t want to seem like an idiot in front of her. Like you weren’t already, acting like an angry, disobedient drunk.
She stood up carefully and pushed her seat in. Then she walked closer to you, and your heart picked up a little faster. She placed 2 firm hands on your shoulders and you froze in place.
“Baby. You cannot drive home like this. How about I drive you home instead? I don’t mind.”
“Can I stay at yours?” You blurted out. You didn’t know where that came from. Well, you knew you were thinking it. You were thinking it the whole night, but those several glasses of champagne made your tongue looser than running sand.
She blinked at you a few times. Then she smiled, almost creepily. Those heavy eyelids drooped a bit. “Oh. If… if that’s what you want?”
“Please?”
She inhaled softly, and licked her lips. Her eyes ran over you, up and down, as her hand fell a bit lower from your shoulder. Feeling the curve of your arm, all the way down to your wrist. She took your hand, and then your keys.
“I’ll hold onto these.” She walked to the table and slipped them in a small hand purse she had been carrying. She snatched the purse up and held it under her arm. She extended her hand for yours.
“Let’s go, baby.”