FRANKIE
The first time I met her I was positive we'd never be compatible. It took me no time at all to come to that conclusion. Her smile was too nice, too free of baggage.
I met her in a college bar across the street from UNLV, at the insistence of a well meaning Danika.
I hated college bars. They were always full of college guys, and college guys seemed to all live under the delusion that lesbians were just girls that liked to go that extra mile to turn them on. I wasn't crazy about that.
Estella was beautiful. I didn't have a type, but this girl was everybody's type. Of a height with me, she was shapely, with a body that wouldn't quit. She was showing a lot of that hot little body, in a skimpy black top that clung to her breasts, and a white mini skirt that barely covered her ass. Her skin was a creamy caramel that struck me as edible.
She'd recently moved to the states from Brazil, and had a sexy as hell accent.
Her hair was also a showstopper. It was a sun streaked brown, and there were wavy masses of it.
My mind ran a little wild with the things I'd like to do to that hair, but I put a stop to that pretty quickly.
She was an edible little distraction, to be sure, but not for me.
Not for me. Not for me. Not for me.
So what if I had to tell myself that several times within a few minutes of meeting her?
Didn't mean a thing.
"I'm Estella," she said with a blinding smile, holding her hand out to me.
Was I supposed to shake it?
I did, awkwardly.
"Frankie."
"Frankie," she rolled the name around in her mouth, somehow making it exotic. "I love that name. It's strong. It suits you."
I smiled neutrally. "Thank you. Estella's a beautiful name. Suits you." Nothing about my tone or my eyes was flirtatious. Just making conversation.
Estella's eyes, on the other hand, were running all over my bared, inked flesh. She wasn't even trying to hide the fact that she liked what she saw.
I glanced at the dance floor. One of their group was trying to get her attention.
I pointed. "I think you're wanted on the dance floor."
She glanced back, then shot me a blatantly seductive smile. "Join me?"
I shook my head. "No thanks. You have fun though."
She walked away, a sexy little shake to her stride.
Danika was giving me a look, and I leveled a rueful one back at her.
"It's hard to explain a preference like mine," I explained. I'm attracted to Estella. She's highly fuckable, but that is not the point. I couldn't be who I need to be with her, and I won't settle for less."
"How do you ever find anyone?" Danika asked, sympathy in her voice. "It's hard enough finding decent people to date and then throwing something like that in the mix . . ."
"It's not easy. Not at all. But I'll tell you what, I won't ever be finding that somebody at a college bar. I'd rather be celibate for life than try vanilla again. Does nothing for me."
"So you have tried it?"
I grimaced. I had, with disastrous results, to the point where I'd thought something was broken inside of me, with no remedy to fix it. "Not with a lot of success, and not since I was too young to know better. A preference like mine . . . It's a dark thing, in a way, but when I get it right, God, there's nothing like it. Regular sex could never compare. Has all the excitement of a board game to me."
Eventually Estella came back, handing me a martini, flashing me a big smile.
"I love tattoos," she said, eyes all over my skin.
"Oh yeah?" I questioned, thinking she didn't mean it, since she had none of her own. "I have a tattoo parlor. If you're ever thinking of about getting ink, you should come to me."
She looked interested.
I didn't know how it happened, but the little vixen talked me into taking her home that night.
We made out for hours, and I got her off. Repeatedly. She was a hot little piece.
She slept over at my house, and nosily interrogated me about anything remotely fetish related that she found there.
The whipping post by my bed was a little hard to overlook, so I couldn't really blame her on that one.
She was completely new to it all, even though she said she was interested, so I didn't really let myself hope.
But even being new to it, she didn't seem put off by much.
In spite of myself, I started to hope.
Keep an eye out on my site for more of Frankie and Estella's story:)
Www.rklilley.com