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Authors: Tillie Wells
Journey into the Unknown
By Tillie Wells
JMS Books LLC
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Copyright 2013 Tillie Wells
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This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
Journey into the Unknown
By Tillie Wells
“Ohhh! Ahhh! Mmm! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Her body rises and falls as her long, smooth, curvy legs falls over the shoulders of her lover. She receives with open legs and naked body. She shows her appreciation by massaging her scalp and running her hands through her long, flowing waves of blonde. The pleasurable tongue moves wildly and suctioning lips move against her hottest zone. Her hands leave her hair and grabs hold of her burgeoning breasts, squeezing them while sucking her own nipples. Her body is a bomb of sexual fire, flaming and raging into an exciting climactic end. Her watering eyes show that her partner just took her on an erotic journey she never wanted to end.
How did I end up here?
* * * *
“Miranda, please meet Kiley! She’s our newest employee. Well, she is new to our division, but not to the firm. She just transferred from the trust division on the fifth floor, so be kind to your neighbor.”
Nadia never stops moving as she delivers supplies to Kiley’s desk. She is like an energizer bunny, always moving.
Kiley steps across the aisle from her cubbyhole with her hand extended to shake. I hurriedly put down my purse and briefcase on my desk to take her hand.
“I’m Kiley Parrish—pronounced like Riley. I turned out a girl and my mom didn’t want me named Riley, Jr. So, Kiley it is! But I’m Kye for short.”
“I’m Miranda English, with no interesting story surrounding my common name whatsoever,” I reply.
We laugh as we shake hands. I notice Kiley's stunning beauty.
“Well, we shall be neighbors, Miss Miranda. I like the set-up here,” Kiley says, looking around. “It seems we are far from the maddening crowd.”
“Yeah, I’ve adjusted after all these years. Why they made these two spaces loner cubbyholes is beyond me. Anyway, it’s been a while since someone worked in that space.”
“Well, maybe my presence will bring you luck, prosperity, and never ending happiness.”
“May both your new and old presences create some production of work in both your new and old work stations,” the boss says as he walks by.
“Okay, boss,” I answer as Mr. Weathersby orders us back to work.
I don’t know what came over me, but I extend an invitation to Kiley.
“And you Miss Kye, how about lunch today?”
“Sure, sounds great!” Kye responds as we walk back to our desks.
I think how vibrant and exciting Kiley seems. She may just be better than my last co-worker. I never got to know her because she was in a world of her own.
* * * *
Kye and I agree to meet at Food by the Bay. Food by the Bay is a popular restaurant and fairly new. I never tried visiting there, but since I now have a lunch partner, today will be a good opportunity. We would have walked there together, but Kiley said she had to meet a friend before lunch.
As I'm walking toward the ocean, the restaurant comes into view. The day is sunny and the sky is clear. I can hear the waves crashing the beach. The birds fly around wild and free. It’s a wonderful day to be a bird. If I could fly, I would join them.
I look toward the water and spot Kiley from a distance. She’s laughing and talking to a tall, attractive black woman. She takes a package from the woman. They hug and walk away from each other. Covering her eyes from the sun with her hand, she looks around and sees me. She takes her sunglasses from her pocket and walks my way. She places the small package into her purse.
“Hi Miranda! I am so glad you invited me here. This place is booming! I love the ocean and the fresh air and the people seem so nice and friendly.”
Kiley takes me by surprise as she starts to spin around and around. She seems to be the happiest person on earth. She grabs me and hugs me, then places the sunglasses on her face.
“Wow!” I exclaim.
“Oh, sorry if I’m embarrassing you. Sometimes I forget and just let my carefree hippy lifestyle come out. I have to learn to contain my emotions, especially around a beautiful, intelligent, professional, and sophisticated woman as you.”
“Honestly, it is no problem. You just kind of caught me off guard. Who knows? Maybe I need to loosen up and throw caution to the wind as you do. I need to take spins, and enjoy life more. And wow, thanks for the compliments.”
“No problem. I like how you put that. If you know of anyone who has loosening to do, refer them to me. I’m known to do things like bring the oil can and lubricate the life out of Dorothy’s Tin Man.”
“Now that’s some serious loosening of old bolts, Kye.”
We take a seat at a table on the outside. I look across the marina. The boats sailing by, the sun and the beautiful California sky makes me marvel at the beauty of it all.
“So, you think you are going to like working in this division of the firm?” I ask Kye.
“If I can adjust to boring corporate trust division, I think I can handle anything. But when I graduated from college two years ago, I didn’t expect to end up here. I wanted something wild, exciting, and enjoyable. I’m still seeking the job with that edge where I can be free and enjoy myself on a daily basis. I never wanted to be a pencil pusher confined to a cubbyhole as if I’m doing time in a penitentiary. But, I’m young and I’m sure I will find my niche.”
“You know, I understand what you mean. Lately I feel like I’m missing something I should have captured years ago. I thought I was doing what was necessary to make a living, but lately I feel if I don’t escape this rut soon I will die.”
“And what is that feeling, Miss Miranda?”
“It’s a feeling of wanting to escape the day-to-day monotony, but I don’t know what else I can do. You understand?”
“Of course I understand, because I’m the queen of escapes, the don’t-knows, the what-froms, and the whatevers.”
We both laugh throughout our conversation as we finish off our lunch.
* * * *
The work day goes by. Kye brings such youth and excitement to my usually humdrum days and I find myself thinking about her over the weekend. I hate that we didn’t exchange telephone numbers so we could talk.
The work weeks fly past. Monday comes and before I know it, it's Friday again. We do lunch again one Friday at the same spot.
At the end of the day that Friday, Kye and I take the elevator down to the first floor.
“Well, another week of my life has gone by again.”
“Wow! You say that with doom and gloom. How about we walk around the corner to the Eagle’s Nest and have a drink.”
“That is a great idea. I can’t remember the last time I did something so spontaneous.”
“You call having a drink at a bar at happy hour spontaneous? Girl, you haven’t yet lived the life of Kiley Parrish. I can teach you a thing or two about spontaneity.”
“And just what are those spontaneous things?”
“Just keep hanging with me and you'll see,” she laughs.
“Okay, but I hope hanging with you doesn’t lead me into the path of devastation.”
“If it does, then it’ll be a path of enjoyable devastation.”
We laugh as we enter the bar. It’s surprising to see a dimly lit room at this hour. The music plays loudly and sounds like Techno which is also surprising. Usually, happy hour consists of soft music and people talking, but this place is party central. I watch the dance floor come to life as I make a discovery.
“Oh, my God, Kye, is this a lesbian bar?”
“It’s a lesbian bar if you want to look at it that way. I look at it as females who just want to hang out with other females and no men allowed. Well, men are allowed, but they seldom come here.”
I guess the shock on my face amuses Kye and she orders me shot after shot of hard liquor. I toss each down as the bartender fills up glass after glass. I can see that Kye is getting a kick out of my reaction as I watch the action on the dance floor. She can see I am curious. I must seem shocked out of my mind to her, but I cannot keep my eyes off the dancers. Some of them are dancing closely and tonguing each other, palming each other, hugging each other so tightly that it seems they will snap each other in two.
“Have you had enough of this scene, Miranda? We can go now if you want. I mean, that’s if you can maintain a steady walk to the door. The bartender can call us a cab, so you will not have to walk far. I can tell you’ve never witnessed such a scene before.”
“I haven't, but it’s fascinating. I mean, even in a straight bar scene I’ve never witnessed such closeness and action-packed dancing.”
“Well, I’ve found that in relationships women tend to be more passionate than men. Men are somewhat reserved in an opposite sex type relationship; the type of relationship you are probably more familiar with. You see, women in those relationships are missing the warmth, closeness, affection, communication, love—I can go on and on with the list. Women tend to find that in a lesbian relationship, they get the affection, nurturing, attention, communication, and love. Women naturally share these feelings. This is why children tend to favor the mother over the father in parenting. I find it's overall hard for a man to receive or give affection as women do, so they do not comprehend these qualities. Since women are naturally givers and nurturers, the same sex partner can handle these outward displays of affection far better than men. That results in what you see there on the dance floor. It's lesbian women giving to each other what they will never wholeheartedly get from a man.”
“So, you've experienced lesbian relationships? Oh my God, Kye, are you lesbian?”
Before I can get an answer, everything fades to black. The last I remember is seeing Kye laughing and reacting to my question.
* * * *
The next morning I wake up with a terrible hangover. Kye is there, with an ice pack on my head. She has prepared some concoction for me that she says should kill the headache and nausea.
“Beauty has awakened. Good morning, Miss Miranda! Shall I place this ice pack on your head again?”
“No! My head feels like a freezer already,” I say as I look around. “Why am I not at my own house? Where am I?”
“Now, don’t be alarmed. You are in good company. My apartment is plenty safe. We have gated entry and 24/7 security,” Kye responds.
“Why didn’t you just take me to my place?”
“Well, even though we’ve hit it off and become best buds in like two weeks or so, I’ve never inquired about where you live. I wasn’t about to go rambling through your purse to find out because that’s private property.”
“I wouldn’t have minded that just to be in the comfort of my own home and not be a big old hung over lady messing up your weekend.”
“Oh, you couldn’t do that. And being knocked out as you were, you definitely didn’t care if the comfort was in your home or mine. How do you feel?”
“I actually feel fine for someone who had so many shots and passed out. Oh, but my ego is busted. I'm so embarrassed. I am not used to drinking so much.”
“No need to apologize to anyone here. We had a great time. I enjoyed watching you with your mouth and eyes wide open all night as if you were in the jungles of Africa watching the animals. You may not feel so bad because I put the icepack on your head.”
“I’m embarrassed again, Kye. I remember what I asked you right before I discovered I had too much to drink.”
“Maybe you asked me that because you had too much to drink.”
We both laugh, but it seems as if Kye is avoiding answering the question. I look over at the clock just as the doorbell rings. Kye runs over to answer as I sit up on the sofa. I pull the mirror from my purse to take a look at my hair and clothes. I run my fingers through my hair and adjust my clothes, waiting to see who is at the door. It turns out to be several people. Kye opens the door wide and a group of young, fresh-faced beautiful girls walk in holding picketing signs and wearing T-shirts with some kind of rainbow logo on their chests.