She knocked on my door just as I was giving final
instructions to the babysitter, a spectacular feat of
timing when you consider she’d come all the way from
Texas. I flung open the door and she swarmed over me in
a hug. It’s really kind of like that, there’s very
nearly a foot’s difference in our heights. I’ve always
maintained that it put me at an advantage in certain
matters, namely the ones I was snuggling my face into.
We separated a little bit and I grinned up at her. Kim
looked a bit travel-frazzled, but we both knew better
than to go into the house and let her freshen up. The
kids were occupied strategically in the back room, but
if she set one foot inside the house it would be mayhem
and we wouldn’t be able to get away for twenty minutes.
So I grabbed my purse and sunglasses on the fly and we
headed for the car. Kim didn’t get to visit very often,
and every moment was precious. This trip, our first stop
was the one she’d bugged me about since we first gave
our online friendship its real-life dimension, a year
and a half ago. Finally, today, I was going to show her
the Denver Zoo.
The drive over was spent chatting about this and that.
Kim’s husband was well; my children were fine. Her
husband had sent us a card, which we giggled about, it
being scandalously erotic. The man was unusually
forbearant, even enthusiastic, about Kim’s “harem” of
ladies around the country. Most of them lived near her,
but I considered it a source of pride that she was
willing to take a few days, once or twice a year, and
come all the way to Colorado to see me. Someday I’d
doubtless have a man of my own, and our visits would
change or end, but for the moment we were occasional
lovers.
What I had planned for today would, with any luck, would
keep her coming back for more!
She brushed her shining black hair as we cruised
fruitlessly up and down the zoo parking lot. The few
shady spots were, as always, taken up; eventually we
trekked in on foot for what seemed like miles, passing
gratefully through the gate. Kim took my hand
unabashedly as the crowds eased off and we found
ourselves in front of the zebras.
In most towns, two women holding hands might be the
target of ugly glances–certainly less trouble than two
men might have, but trouble nevertheless. But here in
Denver there was an atmosphere of tolerance, combined
with a strong cultural movement toward simplicity,
almost a back-to-the-60’s feel. In addition, two women
who looked less like stereotypical bisexuals would be
difficult to find.
Overweight, short, feminine and loaded with jewelry, I
don’t conform to the perceived image at all. Usually I’m
even less so, with my two blonde children tagging along.
My hair isn’t short, spiked or bleached; it’s deep
brown-red and hangs in slightly curly waves. My brown
eyes and olive skin helped to dispel the expectation.
As for Kim, her Amazonian height and streaming black
hair set off her cool blue eyes to an effect that would
have a man looking at her speculatively, all right, but
not in regard to her sexual preferences. Unless he
simply wanted her to prefer him!
For today, at least, the men were out of luck.
We exclaimed over the elephants and rhinos as we went
around the great circle. Everywhere, Canada geese roamed
at random, avoiding the occasional peacock. Kids yelled
and ran about, adults fanned themselves in the heat. I
tugged on Kim’s hand and dragged her into the elephant
house.
“Stinky!” she exclaimed. I had to agree, but I knew we’d
get used to it in a matter of minutes. Keeping an eye on
the inflow of zoo-going people, I showed her the furry
little hyrax in their stand-alone concrete and glass
structure, midway between the pens that led to the
outside with their rhinos, elephants and tapirs.
“Look, it says they’re related to elephants,” I said.
The last echoing voice faded out. Glancing around the
concrete edge of the enclosure, I saw only a couple
gazing solemnly at the mammoth display, and I turned
back to step very close to Kim.
“What…”
I shushed her, inclining my head to let her know there
was someone in the building. While she still looked down
at me in surprised bewilderment, I took up her hand and,
pretending mischievously to be engrossed by the furry
cliff dwellers, I nibbled thoughtfully at the base of
her thumb.
This was the point at which everything would be decided.
Her reaction might be negative, which would scotch my
plans and we’d have to wait till this evening. But she
didn’t screech or look angry… she just leaned against
the concrete with a scandalized expression.
Her hand trembled in mine, but did not pull back, and I
nipped her skin tenderly. She looked over my shoulder,
presumably at someone coming in, but I didn’t change my
position. I tracked the new footsteps by their echoes,
passing us without really stopping, on the other side of
the hyrax cage.
In a moment the crowd became a little too much for me,
and I released her hand. She had an entirely different
look in her eyes, and her body remained close to me, as
we left the elephant house.
As we wandered the maze of the zoo, I took every
opportunity to tease her. When we rounded the corner
between the kangaroos and the Wolf Woods, I caught up
with her–my stature makes it difficult to keep up with
anyone–and snagged her shoulder, just at the right
moment so that her loss of balance, combined with my
subtle push, sat her right down on a recycled-materials
bench. Startled and verging on annoyed, Kim looked at me
with wide blue eyes as I snugged up against her.
“Oh,” she said, her attitude changing in an instant. I
curled my arms around her neck and kissed her deeply and
powerfully, putting everything into it in the brief
moment we had before the next family grouping rounded
the little pathway bend. She was warm and close, lifting
her face eagerly to mine; I bent over only slightly to
press my lips to hers where she sat. I didn’t hold back,
curling my tongue between her lips to caress hers,
sliding both my hands into her hair.
Even more daring than I, she clung to me as we both
heard footsteps around the screen of bushes, and her
fingers slipped unmistakably down my back to squeeze my
ass. Her breath was warm in my ear as I pressed against
her again, feeling my breasts push hungrily at hers, my
hands hot on her neck. Then she broke away and leapt up
from the bench, and we ran away giggling, just as the
advance scout two-year-olds of the oncoming family
rounded the bend.
In the observation window of the Wolf Woods, she turned
back, while I struggled to catch up, and blew me a kiss
behind the backs of peering teenagers. From then on, it
was a competition. Which of us could be more daring,
teasing the other to the verge of discovery?
I’m entirely content to tell you she won, most of the
time. Her longer stride and better view of the people
ahead let her pick her spot more often. She captured me
outside the reindeer pen, covering her action with a
point, her other hand, hidden between our bodies,
sliding along the side of my breast in full view of far
off zoo-goers.
She stood behind me to look at flamingoes, converting
her casual viewing stance to a sudden closeness when the
crowd evaporated, her mouth open at my neck, her hands
sliding down my collarbones toward my breasts, only to
withdraw instantly when the shadow of a fellow customer
glanced across the glass.
I’m not sure which of us was the more pleasantly
frustrated. Then it was my turn to escalate things, when
we got to the tropical bird house.
It’s a wonderful exhibit. Hundreds of birds of every
shape, size and coloration inhabit it, free to roam a
series of different rooms in the enormous building. Mist
is spouted into the air every few minutes by hidden
nozzles, so the atmosphere is damp and filled with
exotic birdsong.
Green is the predominant color, tropical plants lush and
verdant spreading their great leaves overhead. Nests are
hidden in the foliage, and the birds run across the
little concrete path visitors are allowed to walk on, or
swim in the tiny stream flowing underneath.
We stopped on the bridge, pointing out pairs of
brilliantly colored waterfowl. Three people meandered
on, leaving us, and then the thing I was waiting for
happened: the mist went off.
The jets of water sprayed out near the door, and I knew
most people waited till they stopped before coming in.
Kim exclaimed slightly at the dampness, but laughed. I
brought out the box that had ridden in my pocket all
this time, and handed it to her.
“What is it?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.
“Open and see,” I said, nodding at her. “Quick.”
She lifted the lid. “Oh Rose!” With careful fingers, she
pulled out the strand of garnets and twisty white river
pearls I had crafted for her. It was slightly larger
than the largest bracelet, and I could only hope it was
the right size. “It’s an anklet,” she guessed
accurately.
I nodded. “Put your foot up here and I’ll put it on,” I
offered, gesturing to the rail of the tiny bridge. She
darted a glance toward the empty doorway, where the mist
jets still hissed. Then, grinning, she lifted her foot
and hiked up her pants leg for me.
I put it on as slowly and seductively as I could manage,
trailing the cool length of the stones across the arch
of her foot, my fingers warm on her skin as I fastened
it. My hands slid up her calf till they were stopped by
the pants leg, when the soft sound she made caused me to
look up.
She was flushed, her nipples visible beneath the silk of
her shirt. Her great soft eyes looked at me dimmed by
lust. Somehow the simple act of fastening on the anklet
had excited her more than anything else I’d done the
whole trip. Her foot landed on the ground again and she
fairly grabbed me.
We kissed amid the falling droplets of mist, bird cries
on every side as they went about their own mating
rituals. Kim’s hands slid over my shoulders, crushing me
close as she bent to kiss me. I closed my eyes,
forgetting the outside world for a long moment, my body
melting against hers, my hands creeping up till I felt
the hardness of her nipples thrusting out against the
shirt, beneath my fingertips. When I ran my thumbs over
them she made a moaning indrawn breath that shivered my
spine, and at that moment the mist cut off and we heard
voices.
It took a moment to untangle ourselves, and the voices
went silent as their footfalls entered the room and
stopped. We both cast a horrified glance at the doorway,
where several curious heads poked in. Only a few faces
registered understanding of what we’d been up to, and I
clearly saw one old man’s face crinkle in humor, before
we turned tail and ran.
Laughing, our hair misted with fine droplets, we pelted
over the little bridge, our feet splashing in the
puddles. A brilliant pink wading bird stalked offended
out of our way, as we clattered through the double doors
at the end. Just to be sure, we moved through the next
couple of rooms at a good pace, paying very little
attention to the critters we saw on all sides.
Finally, feeling ourselves well away from those we’d
shocked with our wanton behavior, we wandered hand in
hand through the backwaters of the zoo. A boa
constrictor in a glass enclosure looked at us
somnolently. We saw a buffalo that couldn’t be more than
three days old. We passed the great cats, their
enclosures partly outdoors and partly inside, and
entered their building to see the tigers through their
glass wall. They paced and panted in the dryness.
Inside it was darker, glass windows opening onto the
clouded leopard, the panther, the jaguar, the cerval and
the hyena. “He always looks so huge to me,” I said,
nodding to the latter. It lay, shaped more or less like
a dog but half again as big as a German Sheppard, its
awkward muzzle resting on the artificial earth of its
exhibit. I grinned to myself, unable to help it, and
suggested we hit the water fountains in their little
alcove.
I checked my watch while Kim drank, and then glanced
behind me. A pair of eyes looked steadily at me from the
cerval cat’s glass window. I waved at them and they
vanished. When Kim turned back to me I took her hand and
we walked over to the tiger’s window. Faintly beyond the
layer of glass, across the tiger’s outdoor playground
and the deep chasm that separated him from humans, we
saw a few spectators looking at the striped beasts. The
tigers on the other side gazed back with the same
incurious, heat-wearied expressions.
I left her, trying to be casual, and walked to the
center exhibit under the dim lights. Here the great
black panther lay stretched along his artificial tree
limb, his tail hanging down, the tip twitching just a
tiny bit. As Kim joined me I glanced surreptitiously to
left and right. I couldn’t see any people; so they
couldn’t see me. Perfect.
Kim saw me dump my purse on the floor and stretch my
arms, and when I sat down on the narrow space formed by
the wall that held up the glass front of the panther’s
enclosure, she took a spot beside me and turned to me,
eager to resume our teasing. Taking advantage of the
fact that no one was currently in the big cats’ house,
she took me in her arms and kissed my lips with tender
passion, leaning me back against the panther’s glass.
I raked my nails lightly down her back, feeling the silk
shirt ripple and crease beneath my hands. As she leaned
against me, pressing me fully against the cold glass,
she glanced to one side to see if anyone would come in.
I deliberately interrupted her look, and she gasped,
turning back to find both my hands full of her breasts.
“Ohhhh… Rose we can’t…” Her voice trailed away in a
moan as my mouth, low enough to reach her without much
squirming, closed over her nipple. Silk dampened under
my tongue, and the taste of her flesh came faintly
through the cloth. Though her words had protested, her
hands slipped through my hair to draw me closer. I heard
my own chuckle, low in my throat, slip out, and that’s
the last coherent sound I remember making.
We didn’t take long to forget the peril of someone
coming into the big cat house. The panther and the
jaguar watched with incurious eyes as she leaned against
me and tore open my shirt. Her hands slipped my breasts
out of their bra cups one at a time, and her mouth
returned my favor, sending sharp tingles of pleasure to
stiffen my nipples and make me arch my back. I moaned
aloud when I felt her fingers curling up my thighs,
sliding between the long skirt I wore and my skin,
stroking me.
When I made a long arm and caught up my purse she
gasped, drew back, looking at me with the face of an
awakened sleeper. But I just smiled at her, holding her
close with one hand. The other fished in my purse, and
when I felt the slim round shape I twisted the base. The
buzzing hum that filled the air brought the ears of
every predator in the house turning to us like radar.
The lion paced up to his glass window and looked over at
us.
I lifted the vibrator from the purse. Kim half-laughed,
half gasped. “Rose, we can’t, we’ll get arrested!”
I just grinned at her and laid the buzzing tip of the
thing against her neck. She laid her head back, letting
out a breath, but kept shaking her head. I followed the
tingling trail of the vibrator’s tip across her skin
with my tongue, feeling her moan add its softer, warmer
shiver. Her hands came down onto my shoulders again, and
I took advantage of her indecision to move to my knees
on the narrow bench, this time putting her back against
the glass.
I drew the vibrator down her skin, slipping it into the
hollow of her throat, kissing there as the buzzing tip
moved on between her breasts, nudging aside the buttons.
I let my fingers follow, opening the shirt, letting me
see the slopes of her breasts, the lacy bra with its
damp spots where my mouth had been. I touched each one
with the vibrator tip, felt her busy hands pause as she
gasped, and saw her nipples quiver, hard and jutting out
behind the lace.
“Rose…” she made a final half-protesting sigh, and
then let it happen. Her fingers kneaded my breasts,
making my breathing move faster, making my body feel
fluid, as if my skin were sliding against all my
clothing. I opened her shirt the rest of the way and
pinned her against the glass wall, rubbing my thigh
against her, slipping it between her legs. She lowered
her head to press her open mouth against mine, her
tongue darting in hungrily, tasting my mouth.
When I released the buttons of her pants, she turned her
head from side to side against the glass, looking for
intruders, but saw only the unimpressed gazes of the
tigers and leopards. I slipped my hand in first,
touching the heat of her, then the wetness, slicking my
fingers. I drew them out, sucking the tips, looking into
her eyes, bright blue over her flushed red mouth.
She lifted up a little, taking her weight onto her heels
for a moment, to let me draw the pants down over her
hips. I left them wrapped around her thighs, easy to
pull up if we were interrupted, and imprisoning her. It
must have been frustrating; she could only open her legs
so far. Into that opening, into the center of it, I slid
the vibrator. Its sound was muffled as it plunged into
her, without warning, sliding easily in, bringing the
first sharp sound from her.
The cry echoed from the glass plates, brought the hyena
to his feet long enough to look around muzzily. He lay
back down to sleep and I covered Kim’s mouth with mine,
holding the vibrator deeply inside her with my leg. I
slid my thumbs past her nipples again, under the lacy
covering of her bra, then pinched their stiff peaks with
my fingers. I moved against her, slowly, my thigh
rubbing her, nudging the hard buzzing vibrator within
her.
She let out a deep, throbbing cry, her hips bucking up
against me. I slipped down her body, biting her softly,
to where she was uncovered, vulnerable. As her voice
rang in the room, I took hold of the slippery base of
the vibrator and drew it partly out, slipped it back.
Her body moved with me, and I kissed her thigh, lightly,
teasingly. Then I reached with my tongue for her
clitoris, echoing the sudden plunge of the vibrator with
a sudden, rough surrounding of her most sensitive spot
with my mouth. I drove my tongue against it, feeling her
hands clutch at my hair, her hips thrust up against me.
I slowed her down, deliberately, easing on the drive of
the vibrator into her, on the pressure of my tongue. She
called my name, in a voice gone delirious with pleasure,
urgent, throaty, a sound that made my own wetness surge
beneath my skirt. I couldn’t listen to her like that
without pushing her to the edge, and I bore down again,
lashing her clitoris with my tongue, thrusting the
hardness of the buzzing vibrator again and again into
her, in a jerky rhythm, unpredictable.
She had the attention of most of the animals now. The
male tiger was lashing his tail, staring directly in at
us. The great cats had come in from the outside and were
heads up, their radar ears bearing on the sounds she was
making. It crossed my mind vaguely that she must have
sounded like one of them, in heat. Her hands dragged
painfully at my hair; I threw my free arm up to clutch
at her breast, and drove at her with mouth and hand and
vibrator, throwing her back against the glass, worrying
her clit…
She came yowling, her hips rising off the concrete
toward me powerfully, her sheath spasming over the
vibrator, hard enough to yank it out of my hand. Her
spicy taste ran into my mouth, her hands clenched in my
hair. I gave a little growl against her clit, licking
and licking at it until she slowed, until she rested
against the glass again, until she released me and her
breath was hoarse panting, echoing in the big cat house.
“God Rose,” she said. “If we get caught…”
I slid up her, both of us sweating and shaking. Tenderly
I drew her pants up her languid body and fastened them.
“It’s all right, we weren’t caught,” I whispered to her.
I held up the vibrator, slippery with her fluids, and
licked it clean while she did up her shirt. The promise
in her eyes was enough to melt any woman, but I knew we
didn’t have all the time in the world. “Tonight,” I
answered her unspoken offer.
Once she had herself together, we gathered up our purses
and headed for the door. The timing was terrific. She
was just coming to herself enough to say, “I can’t
believe no one walked in…” when we turned the corner
and found the double doors, their bars looped together
on the outside with orange zoo “Warning – Do Not Pass”
labels. The “Temporarily Closed For Cleaning” sign could
be read backward.
Kim turned to look at me. “Rose, what’s that about?” I
could read in her face that she suspected something, and
I couldn’t help but laugh.
My friend Trevor let us out, grinning all over his gay,
purple-dyed hair, nose-pierced face. I explained to Kim
in a hushed voice as we walked away, staggering only a
little, that he and I did favors for one another
sometimes, and today’s had been a whopper. I’d owe him
tickets to the Pietasters for sure. Giggling to one
another, Kim and I made our way to the zoo gates,
already planning our next excursion.
We got home all right, though I’m sure we looked a
sight, hair mussed, some of our clothing less than
perfectly arranged. We must have smelled like… well,
like a cathouse!