Anonymous Bidder

by Robin Roseau

  Easy. I thought you were asking for months.

  Not months. Maybe a month or two, maybe not even that long.

  If you need more than a month, you'll never do it, Charlotte.

  Will you promise me two months?

  Again I thought about it.

  If you promise that at the end of those two months, or sooner, I get to see who you are.

  Thank you. Thank you. Yes. I promise.

  All right. Two months. Max.

  Max. How about an easy date next Wednesday? It won't be complicated.

  What did you have in mind?

  Dinner at my place. I'll pick you up and take you home later.

  That would be nice. To be clear, I won't be undressing until I'm allowed to see you.

  I'll consider that extra incentive. I'll think about more ideas in the meantime.

  Good. I did have a nice time. You felt really good.

  You did too. Are you in bed?

  Yes, with a book, but I'm going to sleep now.

  Good night, Violetta.

  Good night, mysterious woman.

  Then a minute later, the phone buzzed.

  Thank you. You don't know what this means to me.

  I didn't respond.

  * * * *

  We texted every day, sometimes only a few times, but most days were far more than that. She asked for more selfies. I sent her one while wearing the sunglasses she had sent me. I hadn't kept the eye patches. They weren't designed to be used more than once. So I sent her another picture with one of my scarves tied over my eyes. She seemed amused by that.

  I told her "no more unless you send some back."

  So she sent me a photo of one of her hands. I thought perhaps she had delicate fingers. I liked that and told her so. She sent a few others of various body parts, taken in isolation.

  "More of those!" I wrote to her when she sent me a shot of one of her breasts. Two days later she sent me one of her lady bits, which surprised the crap out of me. She asked me to send one back, but I flat out refused and wouldn't be swayed. So for my next, I put on my dowdiest outfit. She whined.

  Tuesday came. I warned Charlotte I'd be busy for the evening. She told me she had plans, too.

  Text me before you go to bed.

  All right.

  Meryl and I met at an Italian bistro. I loved their tiramisu. I'd love to say she looked great, but she didn't, not really. She looked tired. But it was good to see her. We chatted, ordered dinner, and chatted some more.

  "So, how was the date?"

  "I'm surprised you waited this long to ask. It was really weird." So I told her about it.

  "And you're going to see her again?"

  "I think she's struggling with coming out. This is a weird way to express it. But you know what? I had a nice time, and she paid me a great deal of attention. So yeah, I'll give her some time, and I bet I enjoy myself." I grinned. "She's a pretty good kisser."

  "Is it different kissing a woman than a man?"

  "Hell if I know. I've never kissed a man." I laughed. "I imagine it's different. I've dated a few different kinds, so you can't make assumptions. I imagine kissing me is different than kissing a butch."

  "I suppose," she said slowly. She shook her head. "I couldn't do what you're doing. The trust... I don't like giving up that much control."

  "It would be harder if she were a he, I think. That edges close to creepiness."

  "Yeah. Still, it's kind of sexy, too."

  "That's what I decided."

  We finished dinner, and the waiter dropped off dessert menus. I already knew I wanted the tiramisu. It was the entire reason to come here, and I didn't come often or I'd look like a whale. But I could have a piece now and then. Moderation and all that.

  "I have a confession."

  "Oh?"

  "I told Noelle where I was going to dinner. She asked if she could join us for dessert."

  "And you told her you were meeting me, and she quickly withdrew the request."

  She glanced at her phone. "She'll be here in a few minutes."

  I couldn't believe this. I hadn't seen Meryl since she was pregnant. I wanted a relaxing meal and a chance to catch up.

  But I didn't say a word. The waiter returned. I turned to him and said, "I'll like the tiramisu to go."

  "Violetta..."

  "Your sister hates me," I said. "I'll get out of here before she arrives, with any luck at all." I turned back to the waiter. "Please hurry, and bring my check."

  "Of course."

  Meryl tried to argue me into staying, but I was really disappointed with her. My answers were short, my lips tight, and finally she nodded and said very quietly, "I'm sorry. She's going through some stuff, and she said she wanted to see me."

  "She wanted to see you while I'm here? I don't know what game she's playing, but I'm pretty sure it was designed to make sure I felt as uncomfortable as possible, and maybe to ensure we don't start hanging out together again."

  I barely made it, boxed tiramisu in hand. I saw Noelle enter the front door and immediately turned to the right and hid behind a pillar until she passed to my left. Then I rushed out.

  I got a text as I got in my car. I glanced at it, thinking it might be from Charlotte. It was Meryl. "Please come back."

  Enjoy your dessert. Wish your sister my best.

  Dinner In

  How was your friend?

  I'm so mad.

  I'm sorry. What happened.

  She invited her sister. I barely got out in time.

  You should have stayed.

  I don't get it. Why? The woman hates me, and she knew I was going to be there. Why would she ask to join us?

  Maybe she wanted to apologize for her reaction at the grocery store.

  My friend waited until the last minute to tell me. At least she didn't wait until her sister was sitting down. If she wants to apologize, she could have sent a note via her sister.

  Maybe she didn't think of that, or maybe she thought it should be in person.

  Or maybe she just wanted to ruin my evening and drive a wedge between her sister and me. If so, well, it worked. I can't believe either of them did that.

  The reply was slow in coming, and I wondered if that was where we were left for the night, but finally the phone buzzed.

  You must really hate your friend's sister.

  I don't hate her. But she hates me, and I don't like the looks she gives me. She doesn't say a word, but she does a real good job letting me know she wishes for a world that didn't have me in it. I don't need to sit around for that.

  Then I added to it.

  I get it. I was stupid. I'm the one who threw herself at a girl who wasn't the slightest interested in me. But god! I was a teenager. Teenagers are stupid. It's a miracle we make it to 25.

  Will you consider something?

  I'm sorry. I shouldn't rag on you. Let's talk about something else. What are you cooking for me tomorrow?

  Please. Will you consider something?

  I huffed and then replied.

  I'll try.

  Maybe what you see in her looks is guilt and regret, not hate.

  I stared at the phone, not responding.

  Maybe what you see is someone who doesn't know how to apologize.

  Maybe all those years ago, you were right, and she was interested. But if you were young and stupid, maybe she was, too.

  Maybe she was coming tonight to tell you that, or something like that.

  I stared at the phone. I stared and stared. Finally I replied.

  I think you're wrong.

  Maybe I am, but maybe I'm right. And maybe your friend is really upset now, if you left in a huff.

  I didn't leave in a huff.

  I wonder if your friend sees it differently. Do you want this to cost you a friendship?

  I didn't answer right away, and so another text arrived.

  Just think about it. I could be wrong, but what if I'm right.

  I'll think about it. Now, change the su
bject.

  I thought about finger food that you could eat without looking, but I decided I had too much fun feeding you.

  LOL.

  I bought a couple of video games.

  Oh, that's going to work.

  They're for the blind. I guess they're auditory games. While you're playing, the screen just shows moving colors like computer screen savers.

  LOL. All right. Sounds like fun.

  We're playing for a prize.

  Oh?

  Backrub. Best two out of three.

  You have an advantage. I bet you played them.

  Five minutes each. That's it. I swear.

  I thought for a while before agreeing.

  Perfect. Attire is casual. I'll get you at six.

  I didn't save the eye patches.

  I didn't think you did. Go look on your front doorstep.

  That surprised me. I tossed on a robe and stepped downstairs. Sitting on the doorstep was a little box, and when I opened it, there was an entire package of the eye patches.

  Tell me you don't expect me to need this many.

  I don't, but I wanted to be prepared. Please leave a few in your purse, just in case.

  Okay.

  I'll text when I'm close. It'll be about six.

  Okay.

  Violetta, I'll be disappointed if you cheat.

  I won't cheat.

  Thank you.

  * * * *

  I sat on the sofa, just like the first time. I only had to wait a minute until the door opened. She crossed the room, and I turned to face the sound.

  "You said casual." I was wearing a skirt and violet blouse. Maybe she couldn't see my eyes, but she could see the blouse. "I hope this is okay."

  She moved to the sofa and tapped my arm twice. I reached over and pulled, and a moment later I had my lap full of a warm, anonymous bidder.

  We kissed for a few minutes until we were both panting.

  "You're good at that."

  She kissed my cheek and nuzzled a little.

  "We should go."

  Two quick kisses underneath my ear, and then she slid from my lap and helped me to my feet.

  It wasn't that long a drive. We parked in a garage -- I could tell by the change in noise. Then she helped me from the car and into the house. She led me onto a stool at a counter -- probably a center island. I heard pouring, and then she wrapped my fingers around a stemmed glass.

  "Thank you." I sipped. It was a white, but I couldn't have told you more than that.

  She fed me while she cooked, little bits of various vegetables. She tended to tease me when she did it, brushing my lips with whatever she was about to feed me. I did my share of laughing. I was having fun.

  Then I heard sizzling, and I recognized the sounds of stir fry.

  "We seem to have a trend going here," I said. "If you think this blind date thing is going to go on very long, then figure out how I'm going to cook for you."

  She reached over and tapped my hand twice.

  Cooking didn't take long. I listened to her dish things up. Then she collected my hands and led me to her dining room table. She got me seated and then made trips back and forth for the various dishes.

  She fed me, even using chopsticks again. I thought she was feeling bolder, because she was more likely to tease me. I did more laughing, and then I let her clean me up at the end of the meal.

  I stayed where I was while she cleared the table, thinking about all this. I really was having fun. I wasn't quite sure why. The conversation was lacking, but Charlotte was playful, attentive, and considerate. I could get used to those attributes. I hoped she got over her fear soon.

  Finally she returned to me, took my hands, and led me through the house and into the basement. She led me to a very plush, leather couch and got me situated. She sat with me for a while, just the two of us leaning against each other, holding hands.

  "Please talk to me," I finally asked quietly.

  In response she shifted and climbed on top of me. She kissed me deeply. I liked that, although I felt disappointed she wouldn't talk. But then she took my hands and set them behind my neck.

  "Oh, you think so?" But I laced my fingers together.

  And then she began stroking my sides. It felt good, but then it began to tickle, and I reached for her to stop her. Together we struggled for a while, but I didn't struggle that hard, and I let her push my hands back where she wanted them.

  She didn't quite tickle me flat out, but she got me really, really squirmy.

  "This isn't fair," I said, squirming. "God, that feels good."

  She bent down and kissed my nose. Then she hugged me tightly. I sighed.

  With one final caress she climbed from my lap and moved a short distance away. I heard noises I couldn't quite figure out, but then she was back, seated beside me.

  She set something into my hands, and I realized it was a pair of stereo headsets. I lifted it into place. Then she took my hand and moved it over to her head. She was wearing a similar set. Then she handed me a gaming console. There was a pause, then I heard a little music.

  That went on for a little while, a minute or two, before it faded out to be replaced by a female voice. I was welcomed to the game. The voice asked if I needed directions, wanted to enter the tutorial, or was ready to play a game. I asked for directions and listened, then when I had a chance, I took the tutorial. I did that twice, and then I even played a practice solo game.

  "Your opponent is ready to play," said the voice. "Press the right trigger when ready for competition."

  We didn't play three games. We played three different games. She won the first two games. Then she switched games, and it was time for a new tutorial. She won the first of that game, but then I won the second. We played a third, and I won that one, too.

  And I realized we were now one to one.

  The third game was hardest. I won the first, barely, almost by accident. She trounced me during the second. But I got lucky during the third.

  Charlotte took the game control from me and pulled the headset from my head.

  "Did I win?"

  In response, she kissed my cheek twice. I giggled.

  We cuddled for just a minute. She pulled me to the couch, then down onto the floor a short distance away, encouraging me to kneel. She moved close and began to unbutton my blouse.

  I slapped her hands away. "Hey! None of that."

  There was a pause, then she captured my hand and pressed a bottle into my grasp. Then she pulled me forward, and I found a soft pad on the floor.

  "Oh, you're offering me my backrub here." She answered with two taps. "This is oil?" Two more taps. "All right," I said with a smile. "Go away for a minute while I get ready."

  She didn't argue with me, and while she didn't leave the room, I heard her over near the gaming console, putting things away. I turned my back on her and pulled off the blouse and bra, setting them where I could find them, then arranged myself on the pad. There were pillows, and I arranged myself comfortably.

  "I'm ready."

  It was a really, really nice backrub. I moaned through some of it, encouraging her attention. I haven't the vaguest idea how long it went on, but it felt like a long, long time, and I zoned out in pleasure long before she stopped. But finally she lay down beside me, one hand in the small of my back.

  "That was amazing," I whispered. "Did you let me win that last game?"

  She tapped twice on my back.

  I thought for a while, deciding how I felt about it. "That's sweet," I said finally. "Would you have enjoyed receiving a massage if you had won?" Two taps. "All right. I enjoyed this a lot, but in the future, play to win." Two taps. Then she moved closer, and we sort of snuggled there on her floor. She encouraged me to roll over, facing away from her, offering to let her spoon, and we did that, sharing a pillow.

  "This feels nice," I said after a while.

  She stroked me with her hand for a while, but she remained polite and didn't try to cop a feel. I wasn't sure how
I would react if she did. I don't think I would have been upset, although I may have pretended to be. But she didn't give me an excuse.

  Eventually she pressed against my back and wrapped an arm all the way around me, but it was below my breasts and completely innocent. Well, nearly completely, anyway.

  We sighed together.

  Eventually she sat up. I sat up, and she handed me my clothing.

  She drove me home. I invited her in, but this time I didn't invite her to the sofa. Instead I pulled her into my arms, hugging her tightly.

  I didn't have words, but I clung to her, and she clung back. Finally she pulled away, but I stopped her, pulling her into a kiss. We kissed innocently for a minute, but it didn't stay innocent, and it wasn't long before she had my back against the door, both of us terribly worked up.

  But then she pushed away, and I heard her panting heavily.

  "Yeah," I said, doing my own panting. "God, Charlotte. Wow."

  She caressed my cheek, moved me from the door, and then fled.

  * * * *

  Before we left town, I called Meryl. She was definitely harried, but I said, "I just need thirty seconds."

  "Shoot," she said.

  "If I overreacted Tuesday, I'm sorry."

  "You did, but I guess I don't blame you. Forgiven. Seen the woman again?"

  "No, but we had an amazing date last night."

  She laughed. "Get laid?"

  "No. I told her no sex until we get past whatever this thing is that's going on. If she wants this hot body, she's got to let me see her."

  She laughed again. "Good plan. How's it going for you?"

  "I'm so horny I can't begin to describe it."

  "Good. The sex when it comes will be amazing."

  "I'm heading to a work weekend with The Marys, but I brought my trusty little friend, the one that I can safely use in their hot tub."

  She roared with laughter. "Good for you. Christmas is coming. I could use one of those."

  "I'll keep that in mind, but don't you have an eternally horny guy you share a house with?"

  "If I depend on him for my orgasms..."

  "You used to say he was really good."

  "He is, sometimes. But a girl has needs."

  It was my turn to laugh, and after we got off the phone, I ordered one for her. And had it shipped direct to her.

  * * * *

  Cell coverage at the cabin was spotty, and I had warned Charlotte. I didn't even bother checking my messages.