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This was the first time that Steve had gone on a business trip since we were married. It seemed silly to be worried about being alone. After all I worked during the day and had my night course in French to fill my evenings, how could I be bored for three days? But somehow after he was gone three hours, and as the clock struck 9 o'clock at night, I was lonely. I tried to read but that bored me even more. And somehow the idea of doing homework on a Friday night was depressing. All I could feel was foolish. Is this really the way a 28 year-old woman should feel when she is alone?

After all, it was just five years ago that I was single and alone many nights. For a brief moment I thought of having an affair. But I realized quickly that I loved Steve and getting laid was not the answer.

I went to the kitchen and took a cold beer from the fridge. As I was walking over to the stereo the doorbell rang. Through the peephole I could see Judy. I opened the door and gave her a hug. "Boy, am I happy to see you," I practically shouted. "What's the matter?" she asked. Somehow in the telling, my plight of being alone for one night didn't seem too dramatic.

She had come over to find out my recipe for French Apple Pie. Her husband's boss was coming over on Sunday. As an act of friendship she half-heartedly offered to visit for awhile.

Judy was younger that I. Probably 22 or 23. We were sort of friends, but more by convenience than by common interests. She lived down the block and since our husbands worked together we got to spend a fair amount of time with one another.

This night she seemed a little strange. She soon revealed that she and her husband had had a huge fight. She came over as much to "get the hell out of that damn house" as for the apple pie recipe. Her breath also had the distinct smell of Scotch. In fact, I'd say she was as jittery as I was.

We both sat down on the couch. I asked her if she wanted a drink. When she just looked up and said nothing I knew the answer. I filled two large tumblers with Scotch. One for her...and one for me; I progressed from beer to Scotch.

Judy talked endlessly about how awful her husband was. Mostly her complaints were about how little money they had and how little sex they had. Of most concern was that all of their sex involved some form of bondage or pain. "What ever happened to love and tenderness," she said. Her words and actions were quite animated. She seemed to brush against me quite often as she spoke. And she seemed to sit a littel too close for two friends just chatting. Quite frankly, I simply considered it my imagination, although, to be perfectly truthful, both the closeness and the conversation excited me.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," she blurted. Then in graphic detail she discloded how she was determined to have an affair but couldn't decide which guy at the office. I said nothing. She talked about tenderness again and gently placed her hand on my leg. I could feel a rush of warmth in my body.

Probably less than a half hour passed and we were both getting quite bombed. I started talking about my sex life with Steve more out of filling the conversation void than consciously wanting to share.

I, of course, told her only the good things. Suddenly she burst into tears and said, "I wish it was that way for us." As she cried, I instinctively held her and put her head on my shoulder. Surprisingly my act of comforting was quite stimulating. Her breasts pressed against mine. My holding her evolved to rubbing her back, and the stroking became stronger and warmer. Although I knew the Scotch was my excuse, clearly I was having a sexual experience. Of course, at this level it was quite harmless.

For what seemed like forever, neither of us said anything. Obviously she was miserable, but I was feeling good. I wondered if this also felt good to her. The whole thing seemed bizarre. After all, we were hardly Lesbians... or even close friends for that matter.

My mind kept wandering and imagining her in a flimsy negligee. Her young firm body with full breasts. I fought hard to get the thoughts out of my mind, but the harder I fought the more they persisted.

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The deafening silence (and my cascading thoughts) were broken by Judy looking up with wet eyes and saying, "I hope this doesn't frighten you, but I'm strangely attracted to you." In a perfect world I would have pulled away. But, as if moved by a force beyond my control, I placed my lips lightly on hers and kissed her gently. Then again, and again, and again.

I could feel her open her legs. All my thoughts wavered between "I shouldn't be doing this" and "I wonder what I'm supposed to do." I could feel the moistness between my legs. I reached down under her skirt and her panties were soaked.

My mind was fogged to say the least. And though I always disliked oral sex (Steve's penis always tasted funny), I found myself strangely drawn to her pussy. I dropped from the couch to the floor. I tore at her soaked panties and put my head between her bush. I just licked and licked. The more I licked the more excited I became and the more Judy moaned.

She took my left hand and placed it on her breast. Her breast was much firmer than mine and her nipples protruded nearly a full inch. As I rubbed them, she moaned loudly and I felt the moisture gush into my mouth from her pussy. Neither of us said anything. However, I instantly knew she was coming. She dug her nails into my head.

Without a word she suddenly pulled me up from the floor. I was led by the hand to the bedroom. Neither of us spoke as we closed the door and undressed. I studied her body; it was beautiful. I felt shy but I could see that it pleased her to look at me. Then in an instant she pulled me down onto the bed. The bed that I had only shared with Steve.

She lay on top of me and ground her clit into mine. Her breasts rubbed against mine and her tongue darted in and out of my mouth. I was realizing that this was my most exciting sexual experience. I wasn't thinking of Judy, but how I had wasted all these years before discovering a woman's sexuality.

I knew there were things I should be doing. I simply didn't know what they were. However, it didn't take long for Judy to show me the ropes. I wondered if this was a regular routine for her. Or was it simply something that happened. But my body was trembling, so who cared.

She turned me around into the position that Steve loved and I hated. The famed sixty-nine. But now I loved, loved, loved it. No sooner did her tongue touch my clit than I came. And soon she came. And me again and her again. To say how fabulous it was would require a count of orgasms. We both lost count at about a half dozen.

We both lay there exhausted but warm and happy. I looked up at the clock and saw it was getting late. I asked if she had to go. "Do you want me to ?" came the quick reply. "No, No, No", I said quickly.

With that answer she turned me over and spread the cheeks of my buttocks. Soon I felt what I thought was a warm finger. Then I realized it was her gentle tongue flicking deeper and deeper.

It drove me wild. I both wanted her to stop and never stop. Nobody had ever done that to me. Steve once saw it in an X-rated movie we watched together and told me it was disgusting. Judy continued for what seemed like fifteen minutes. Although my eyes were closed with pleasure, I caught an occasional glimpse of her. as she was licking my crack, she was fingering herself. She stopped working on me only after she made herself come.

As unexpectedly as this all started, it ended. I was floating around, half asleep and half awake. Judy jumped up and said "I've got to be going now." She put on her clothing. I watched her button and zip as if I was some guy at a strip show. I just lay on the bed without moving.

Time had stopped dead. "I'm not a Lesbian," said Judy.

"Yea," is all I could say.

"Really," she said.

"Me either."

With that she turned and headed for the door. She stopped midway and said "Could I also get the Apple Pie recipe?"

I went to the kitchen still naked and pulled the yellowing index card from my recipe box. She took the card and said she'd return it soon.

I hope she does...real soon.