JOAN, by A.penman

[apenman]

Dear Hostboard friends,


I’ve had this story in mind for quite some time. But with the ever looming presence of American Healthcare in my life these days, getting started on it has been challenging. Finding the time to complete it could be even more arduous.
Be that as it may, I’ve wanted to write a Rino style story for years. “On The Right Track” comes to mind. I think the only way this one will come close is with it’s “feel.” If you have any thoughts about this, please let me know. Enjoy!
A.P.


Joan…A tale of random desire.
by A. Penman


The daily trek from Marin County to San Francisco would have been a total bore if it weren’t for the fact that this was Marin County, this was the San Francisco Bay, this was indeed the glorious Golden Gate Bridge and, ultimately, this was the city of San Francisco. San Francisco, she sighed, her chest filling with emotion over the fulfillment of her dream of living (and being able to afford to live) in such a beautiful place. Oh, sure, there were days when the trek across the bridge was tedious, mostly due to heavy traffic, but she would always allow herself enough time to get to her job. She worked in the financial district, which was downtown. And if you know anything about San Francisco, you know that good parking spaces are at a premium, especially downtown. Thankfully, there were no parking problems for Joan as her employer, Tillson Inc. a brokerage firm and her employer for the last one and a half years had provided plenty off street parking for its employees. The walk through the parking garage could be chilly on those occasional windy days, but it was worth it. She enjoyed her job. It paid well and she was able to afford the cost of a Sausalito apartment and an occasional mid range priced Bordeaux, fine dining and the occasional SF Symphony Orchestra live performance. Joan Durasso enjoyed the finer things in life.


Joan was a lovely woman, both physically and personality wise. Her dark hair and other facial and body features definitely suggested her Italian heritage. Her short time in the Bay Area had made her come to realize that she was equally attracted to women (perhaps more) than to men. Presently, she was a single woman. At thirty years old, she was intelligent, easy going almost to a fault, but not a pushover. In her dealings with men, she had learned early on that just a hint of cleavage could usually win out and obtain her objective, if she had an objective. Besides, it was always amusing to see their eyes bulge and their expressions change when they realized just how big her tits actually were. Men…they were almost too easy. As for women, well, that was another story. Too many of the women (to be fair, not all) she encountered on a daily basis were predictable and “catty.” You almost knew where a woman was coming from the second that you locked eyes with them. And Joan had noticed that tensions were always the strongest whenever it was another woman with large breasts. Joan was not prone to confrontations, but she certainly would not back down from one, if the situation presented itself. For example, there was a stunning African American woman named Shondra who worked in the accounting department who always seemed to tense up whenever Joan was at the same table in the cafeteria or the same staff meeting. The two women would look at each other and smile awkwardly. When the two women finally introduced themselves to each other, Shondra, whether consciously or not, seemed to stick out her chest a bit. Needless to say, Shondra’s bosoms matched Joan’s in size and fullness. Both women were acutely aware of this and it almost seemed to be an existential moment…I am, you are…therefore, we must. Or, in this case, it could easily been a matter of I have a hot body, you have a hot body…therefore, our bodies must eventually meet. Perhaps they might end up in a physical fight. Perhaps, not a nasty one, but one of those girl fights that was more about matching body against body. Whatever the case, Joan resisted the temptation to respond by jutting out her own breasts. Still she had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before something intense and erotic happened between her and the exquisite black woman. The thought of an erotic encounter with Shondra was indeed a pleasant one. She knew that tonight, when she drifted off to sleep, her mind’s video function would be playing a short clip of her and lovely Shondra rolling around in a cat ball. Mmmmmmm.


Monday morning. Joan found herself in the southbound lane of the bridge on her way to work. Ho hum, she thought. “It’s a good thing that I slept really well last night, otherwise this morning’s drive could easily put me to sleep.” She said, to nobody else in the car. Almost loosing herself too deeply in her thoughts, Joan snapped out of it as the traffic was a bit too heavy and required her full attention. But she knew that, despite all the good things in her life, something was missing. That something, she reasoned, was a sense of intrigue and a bit of surreptitious excitement. Oh well, something will happen, she thought wistfully.


Then, as if some overseeing force, like karma, was listening in on her thoughts, she noticed a metallic blue Honda Accord driving along side of her, dealing with the start and stop, foot by foot slow moving traffic like she was. “That’s going to be my next car,” Said Joan. “I’m sick of this Burgundy Chevy Impala sedan. It’s no fun to drive and it’s not always reliable.” She was about to turn away, so not to appear as being nosy when she noticed the driver of the Honda was looking right at her. So she looked back. It was a very attractive woman, a redhead. She smiled. Joan smiled back…and so, it began…


Tuesday, 8:08 AM…Joan Durasso merged into the southbound driving lane of the Golden Gate Bridge with her customary skill, mixed with a modicum of apprehension. Bay Area drivers were not among the most courteous in the nation. Indeed, some of them could be flat out rude, inconsiderate assholes. Joan always exercised an extra bit of caution. This morning, an unexpectedly courteous driver flicked their lights once, in order to let Joan know that it was safe to merge into traffic. She gave a backward wave, hoping the driver would see her gesture of thanks. They did. As soon as Joan caught up to the flow of this morning’s traffic which was a brisk ten miles per hour, the car behind her pulled alongside of her. It was the blue Honda Accord. Joan felt a sudden, unexplained shiver as she glanced to her left and saw the same gorgeous redhead who smiled at her yesterday. This morning she smiled brightly and waved. This woman was truly physically gorgeous. Keeping her left hand on the wheel, Joan raised her right hand, waved and sent a sparkling smile back to the woman. Then they both returned their attention back to the drive. Eventually, they lost track of each other in the sea of trucks, sedans and SUVs.


All that morning at work, Joan’s thoughts returned to the encounter on the bridge. The redhead’s face, burned into her memory, kept appearing in her mind’s eye. She had to admit that she was intrigued. Did this beauty drive to the city daily? If she did, would they meet on the bridge again? She knew that she would be looking out for her and wondered if the other woman would be looking for her and…then what?


As sure as the sun rises in the East, the first few minutes of the eight o’clock hour Wednesday morning found Joan Durasso merging into southbound traffic on the bridge. She did not see the blue Honda, at least not right away. About fifty yards in, Joan spotted the Honda, two cars ahead of her. She waited for her opportunity, merged into the left lane and pulled along side of it. The driver knew instinctively that it was her. Again, the two women smiled warmly at each other. Then, she impulsively touched her fingers to her lips and sent a kiss to the redhead. The woman laughed, put her fingers to her lips, licked the tips and sent a tongue kiss back to Joan. Now, things were heating up. A wave of titillation shot through Joan’s body. Then, the window of the Honda came down. Joan rolled down her passenger side window. The flow of traffic was starting to speed up as the redhead yelled to her, “I’m running late. Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Absolutely, Joan responded.” Her enthusiasm was obvious.
Then the blue Accord took off…


Thursday, 7:55 AM…The stunning redhead carefully merged into southbound Bridge traffic. With a sense of anticipation, she kept her eyes peeled for the Burgundy Impala. Something told her to check her rear view mirror. There it was. There she was. The stunning ginger felt a surge of anticipation. She waited as the Impala carefully maneuvered alongside her. She turned to smile at Joan and gasped as she observed that she was wearing a tan dress/sports jacket. Underneath was a very low cut, brown pullover top that exposed a considerable amount of the brunette’s cleavage. She had all she could do to keep her eyes on the road. Joan then smiled at her and took off.


Friday morning. Bridge traffic was a bit heavier than normal. The pace was pretty slow. Joan, however, kept her eyes peeled for the blue Honda. She got almost all the way across the bridge without seeing the redhead. But then, a friendly “beep, beep” then the Honda pulled alongside her. Joan was then caught off guard as the redhead responded to yesterday’s display of cleavage by showing off her own very impressive rack. Joan licked her lips and looked right at the redhead’s fulsome chest. Good gracious! She appeared to be as buxom as she was. Oh my, this was certainly starting to get interesting. Joan knew, or at least suspected, that this could be going somewhere. It had to. Then, she became emboldened. She turned on her right turn signal and took the exit to the bridge view area on the North side.


“What the hell? What are you doing?” The perplexed redhead asked herself, but she knew she had to follow. She waited for a car to move up, then changed lanes, signaled, and then followed the Chevy off the exit. She pulled into the parking lot, right next to Joan’s car. At this time of the morning, they were the only two people there. The tourists would likely show up late this afternoon and for sure, all day tomorrow. The redhead locked her car, looked around and spotted the brunette leaning up against a guardrail, admiring the beautiful morning, the few sailboats that were already on the Bay and the marvel of engineering that was the Golden Gate Bridge itself. Joan could feel the woman’s closeness. It was exciting…the most intoxicating thing that had happened to her in a long, long time.
Without turning, Joan said, “I never get tired of this view.”
“Me neither,” the redhead responded.
Joan slowly turned to face the redhead. “Names?”
“Naw…let’s keep it mysterious for now. I’ve been in need of some intrigue lately.”
“Well, in that case, can you get away tomorrow, say…noonish?”
“I’m a single woman, so, yes.”
“Good. Let’s cross the bridge together at noon. Then you follow me.”
Joan nodded agreement. They scanned each other, appraising each other’s curves. Joan gave the redhead a look.
“What?”
“Take a couple of steps forward, arms at your side.”
The redhead complied.
“A couple more, please. Arms at your side…OK stop.”
“What is this, a sobriety test?”
Joan laughed. “You’ll see in a second.”
The brunette stepped forward. Then to the surprise of the redhead, she found herself symmetrically locked breast to breast with Joan. She gasped, looked upward at nothing, then when she recovered, pushed her boobs firmly back into Joan’s, causing Joan to gasp, then moan.
They looked at each other, then Joan backed away.
“I had to know.”
“Indeed…listen, you’re going to make me late for work.”
“See you tomorrow, noon.”
The redheaded woman scurried to her car and screeched out of the parking lot. Her mind spinning and her whole body quivering as she merged into the south bound lane.

End of part one…

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Great Work....

[catfightfan1989]

love it