If These Thin Walls Could Talk (Chapter 2.2 – The First Date) [TF/F] [wlw] [1990s] [Storyline B]

Friday (October 22nd, 1999)

I wake from what feels like the best sleep in the world. As the room comes into focus, I remember the string of kisses Celia and I had shared in the nude before we surrendered to our exhaustion. And then it hits me: the unfinished files that Dan wants done by the end of today. 

I roll over and expect to see Celia. I run my hand over where she was laying- it’s still warm. Then I hear a faint metallic scraping. She must be in the kitchen. Should I get dressed in full now? Better my chances of actually completing the task? Or do I continue to take my sweet time like I’d envisioned last night? That’s right- fuck Dan, that fucking asshole.

The only things I grab from my pile of clothes are my panties and button-down; I’ll save tucking for later. In the kitchen Celia, wearing what’s either an oversized pajama shirt or a pajama dress, has her back turned and has her hand over the stovetop. Next to her is a large bowl with a whisk sticking out of it. 

I clear my throat before saying, “Good morning.” Her body startles just a bit, but she glances over her shoulder at me and smiles.

“I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No no, I was up anyway. It is still morning, right?” I walk over to her and watch as she takes a half-unwrapped stick of butter and glides it over the hot pan, leaving trails of golden bubbles. 

“We still have a couple of hours of morning left.” She sets the butter down and I hand her the bowl of batter. “Could you look in that drawer and hand me a measuring cup?”

I slide it open and give her the half cup. She takes a scoop of the thick batter and lets it pool in the center of the pan. She sets the cup back in the bowl and places an arm around my waist.

“So last night…I wasn’t expecting that, especially for our first time.”

“Was it too much?”

“No, I just- I’d never choked anyone. I didn’t know it was a thing I guess.”

“Some of my clients liked to get rough with me, and soon I started enjoying it. But I don’t need it be that way every time-” 

“Hold that thought.” She picks up a spatula and lifts the edges of the pancake- there’s a couple of air bubbles on top but it still looks mostly raw. She flips it anyway. “Wasn’t hot enough, I’ll take this one…So, assuming there will be a next time, what are we gonna call this then?”

I already love her as a friend- would it be such a leap to love her as my girlfriend? 

“I really care about you, and I personally want to be with you. But if you’d rather take it slow, I can do that. The only thing is I don’t think I can keep it casual.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” I ask her, hoping for clarity. 

“The next time we fuck, I’ll be your girlfriend.” She leans in and gives me one lingering kiss. Our lips emit a light smack as they part. “Alright, first pancake is done.” She slides it onto a plate and puts three more pools of batter in the pan. “Oh, I put your cell on silent. Satan called.”

“Ugh, I almost forgot he existed.”

“Do you want me to help again today?”

“No, you have your work too. I’ll just do my best, and I’ll take whatever he throws at me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” Dan could ruin me in an instant and he would forget he ever did it. 

Celia and I munch on the pancakes just moments after they come out of the pan, nearly scorching our tongues in the process. 

I start on the dishes as Celia makes the last batch: four silver dollar pancakes. 

This time we let them cool and savor them before we get ready. In her bedroom I grab the rest of my clothes and take them to the bathroom where I can tuck in private- it’s annoying but I’d rather hide my bits than part with them completely. 

I make sure I have all of my things and we head out to her car. The ride to the office is a blur, like we’d teleported there. When we get upstairs, I zoom past Dan’s office and settle into my cubicle. 

Begrudgingly, I pull out what’s left of the files and get to it. I have to make sense of this data, which would normally take two full days, in just over five hours. I could’ve taken Celia’s offer, but she has her own work to do. And she’s done plenty already. 

I work through what would’ve been my lunch and only take a break to go to the bathroom. Around two, Dan stops by just to smirk at my frantic state. By 4:30, a quarter of the original pile is still left. To keep going would be a lost cause.

I’ll bide my time in the break room- I don’t need that creep looming over me at my desk. 

I take my phone with me and get a Sprite from the vending machine- the thud the can makes is how my gut feels. As I turn I hear Celia’s voice. 

“There you are. I wanted to see how things were going.”

“I can’t- I couldn’t do it.” Fuck, I can feel the sobs coming. I can’t let Dan see me like this. 

“Oh, Joan. Come here.” She opens her arms and I almost collapse into them, my body shakes as I let out my tears. “That fucker knew that it couldn’t be done, you know that right?”

I sniffle and nod. “I just wanted to prove him wrong.”

“You don’t need to prove a damn thing.” She runs her fingers through the back of my hair, just above the nape. I wrap my arms around her waist and tighten them- we stay close like this for another minute before I lean back and look at her soft eyes. 

She says, “C’mon, let’s sit.” 

For the next twenty minutes, I’m distracted enough as we talk about the upcoming holidays: Halloween is next Sunday (movie night at her place), Celia’s birthday is in November, and then there’s Thanksgiving and Christmas. 

“I might visit my parents in Florida this year, at least for Thanksgiving. You’re welcome to join me,” Celia says. She’d mentioned before that her parents had met in Florida and went back there to retire and reconnect with neighbors from long ago. Her father was born there while her mother had come from Cuba. Industrial jobs were abundant up north, so they moved to Ohio and eventually saved enough for the house that Celia now lives in. 

“That’d be nice.” Celia’s parents have accepted her- I hope that they would accept me too. I imagine what it’d be like to introduce Celia to my parents. They still can’t fully comprehend me being a woman, so would they approve of Celia as some weird affirmation of a straight relationship? Celia is a lesbian and what I was assigned at birth doesn’t change that. 

I glance down at my cell. It’s 4:58. “I have to go.”

“I’ll wait for you outside, yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.” I make my way to my cubicle and take a seat. The ticking of the clock on the wall nearby has always fallen into the background until now. Each tick closer to five seems to grow louder and louder. 

At 5:05 I hear footsteps approaching. Everyone else has left in a hurry- the office clears out the quickest on Fridays. Stay strong, Joan. 

“Alright, let’s see it.” My ears wince at his voice. “Get it all done?” He knows that I haven’t and he starts to chuckle. 

“I’m sorry. But I did get most of it. If you could just give me the weekend-”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” He places his hand over the headrest. “However…” He swivels my chair around and scans the office before getting in my face. “I’ll let you off the hook if you do me the right favor.”

As soon as he reaches for his belt buckle I kick him in the groin. He stumbles back and in doing so knocks over the trash can. The ink stain I’d made is now exposed and he notices right away. He barks at, “What the fuck happened here?”

“I spilled some ink while I was working last night, I was just so tired.” I omit the truth that I was trying to rehearse stabbing him in the leg with my pen for self defense. 

He is just fuming- his face is iretruck red. “Do you know how much it costs to replace carpet?” Probably not a lot in the grand scheme of things- and it’s not like he’s done anything about that tear under the printer that’s been there for years.

I don’t answer him. 

“You know what? You’re fi-” 

“I quit!” I blurt out. Fuck. 

“Well you did one thing right.” He scoffs and walks away. 

Why did I just do that? I was gonna lose my job anyway, but now I’m out of a severance package. I’m so mad at myself.

Out in the parking lot, Celia can immediately tell that I’m distraught. I tell her what happened and she says to not worry about the severance. At least there won’t be a record of me getting fired, even if that’s what it felt like. 

“I can’t believe he wanted you to- I mean I can believe it but what the fuck?”

“Mhm.” I just want to block that part out entirely. “Is it okay if I stay the night again?”

“No problem. Let’s get out here. Are you up for driving?” I’m surprised my car wasn’t towed last night. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

I tail behind her, every few stops she looks into her rearview mirror and waves her hand. I wave back and try to focus on anything but what just happened back there. I can’t even think about my first time with Celia without his red face popping into my head. Instead, I think about that day we properly met, when we ditched work for the movies to take her mind off of her ex. 

A movie doesn’t sound so bad right now. But we should still go to her house first. When we get there, I realize that I’m famished. Those pancakes did keep me full for a while though. 

“Hey, so I was thinking we could do dinner and a movie?”

“We’d probably do that anyway, Joan,” she says teasingly. 

“Well, let’s make it a date. Let’s go out, maybe get some drinks.”

“Okay, but we’re not getting plastered.”

I’ve never heard this term before. “Does that mean not getting really drunk?”

“Yep. Still gotta drive home, buuut I guess we could always hail a taxi. I wonder if they take card.”

“Hmm don’t know. But I think I have enough cash on me.”

“Alright, what’s the game plan? Probably dinner first, huh?”

“Definitely. And then we can sneak a bottle into the theater.”

“Love it. Now let’s get changed, I have some dresses that you can choose from.” 

I pick out a brown sweater dress that’s roomy below the waist. It’s not freezing out, but it might get chilly so I borrow her tights as well. 

Celia says, “It’s okay to change in front of me.”

“I know, I just wanna see something.” I take the clothes to the bathroom. Out of curiosity, I untuck to see if the leggings are enough to hide my bulge. When I come back to her- she’s in the middle of changing- room, I ask, “Can you tell if I’m, you know, if I have a dick?”

She looks down and shakes her head. “Nope, you’re in the clear. Can you zip me up?”

She turns her back to me and I pull up the tiny metal zipper with ease. She’s paired a long black dress with thin (“spaghetti” as I’ve come to learn) straps and a dark green sweater underneath. She picks up her brown clutch and waves it, “Ooh, you match.”

I laugh. “Well, this is your dress.”

“Shh, shh, shh. You coordinated this on purpose.”

I get my black crossbody purse and on our way out she asks, “Oh, where did you wanna eat?”

“Anywhere that has steak.”

“Ooh! My parents took me to this steakhouse after I graduated. I know that it’s on Phillips.”

“And you’re sure it’s open?”

“Yeah, they’re one of those places that’s been around forever.”

At the restaurant, we manage to snag a booth. It’s only 6 and the place is already filling up- a lot of people our parents’ age. Almost every surface is dark brown wood.  The ceilings have dim yellow lights, but they’re so high up that the place might as well be lit by candles. 

After we order, Celia whispers, “I don’t remember it being this white.”

I snort and tuck my head down when a man behind Celia does a half-turn toward us. 

I mouth, “Right?”

We wait for our food, but not in patience- at least the bread basket quiets my near-empty stomach. But I can’t keep filling up on bread. I push the basket aside and my fingers start tapping. 

“You look like you need a distraction,” Celia points out.

“Yes, anything.”

Celia takes a quick look around and leans forward. “Anything?”

“What do you mean?”

She shuffles a bit in her seat and a few seconds later I feel her bare foot graze my inner thigh. Caught off guard, I grip the booth with both hands. The tights’ sheer fabric  amplifies the effects of her touch. I try to relax my shoulders and scoot forward a bit, now resting an elbow on the table. Be casual. 

“So um, do you know what movies are out?”

“Boys Don’t Cry, but it looks like a real bummer and I don’t think that’s the mood we want for tonight.”

“Okay, anything else?” 

“Let me think.” As she ponders, or pretends to, she slides further up my leg and finds my cock. I let out a shaky breath, trying not to moan. She gets me throbbing soon enough.

Celia snaps her eyebrows up and smirks- she is really enjoying this. I can’t say that I’m not, but I fear that body will betray me and draw attention. 

“Hey, do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“Mm, no?” Her heel runs alongs the length of my shaft.

My eyes are practically shouting but I murmur, “I really think you do.”

“Oh fine,” she resigns. 

We take our purses with us and head to the bathroom where a woman is washing her hands. We make it look like we’re going to separate stalls before she dries her hands and leaves. Celia pulls me into the one she’s standing in front of and I close the latch behind me. I hang my purse up and take her clutch and tuck it in my bag. I grab the bottom of the dress and hold it up while she pulls the leggings and panties down past my knees. 

The sudden exposure to the slight chill in the air feels wrong but exciting. I feel a little pump of blood and then a twitch. I’m not quite hard yet but Celia spits in her hand and starts to stroke me with firm yet gentle tugs. In a short minute my dick engorges and stands on its own. Celia lets go and says, “Now screw me.”

I waste no time and whip her around. She lifts up the skirt of her dress while I drag her panties down. She bends down and places one hand on the wall to support herself- uses the other to part her labia for me. I rest a hand on her lower back while I enter her awaiting cunt.

We both sigh when I can push no further. I pull out a couple of inches and give her a cursory thrust. 

“Harder,” she tells me.

“Okay.”

I plunge into her more vigor- her body lurches forward before she regains her footing. I let the bottom of my dress drape over her back to free both of my hands which I use to grip her sides. With each thrust her ass smacks against my thighs. 

I exhale in short bursts. She clenches her walls around me. The sliding in and out feels so fucking good. I rock my hips faster- a loud moan escapes her and echoes against the tile walls. Quickly, I clamp a hand over her mouth and with my torso on top of her back I pound her with more urgency. I can hear her breathe through her nostrils. We both struggle to suppress our grunts. 

“Shit, I’m so close. Are you?” I let go of her mouth 

She pants and says, “Yes, keep going. Just pull out when you need to, even if I don’t cum yet.”

She braces herself with both hands on the wall now. I put my hand back over her mouth and maneuver my cock, rocking harder, trying to hold out as long as I can. The smacking of our bodies gets sharper. Her muffled moans get higher and soon she cries out in orgasm. I ride it out, letting her scream into my palm. As soon as her moaning let’s up I pull out and jerk my leaking cock. I turn to the side and stroke hard and fast. This time, Celia gets up behind me and shuts me up with her mouth. I close my eyes and tighten my fist around my girth, pulling until I feel the release. I moan into her hand and my cum shoots out in spurts- I keep stroking until the last of the thick, white liquid dribbles out. 

I let go of my blushed cock and it gives a final twitch. I roll out some toilet paper and wipe my cum off the stall before dropping the wad into the toilet and flushing. 

We both pull up our panties and straighten our dresses. I grab my purse off the hook and give her back the clutch. As we step out someone comes into the bathroom. I avoid eye contact and walk to the sink. I can feel a pair of judging eyes on the both of us before we hear the stall close. We finish washing up and head back out. 

We wade through the sea of tables and return to the booth. Most people are oblivious, but I catch some stares from others as we slide into the booth. Celia stares back with wide eyes until they look away. 

The waiter arrives with our food shortly, and we devour half our steaks without saying a word. The silence is filled with sawing of our knives, tears of the flesh, the soft clinking of melted down ice pebbles as we take large gulps of water. 

Suddenly I remember our agreement and I set down my utensils. 

“So I’m your girlfriend now?”

“Yes, you are.” She puts her open hand out on the table and I grab it, running my thumb over the top of her fingers. We both smile and get back to our food. 

Even after we clean our plates, I’m hungry for something else- something I haven’t tasted yet.

“I changed my mind about the movie,” I tell Celia. 

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qazx44/if_these_thin_walls_could_talk_chapter_22_the