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Karen had on a rather demure looking black number that fell somewhere past her knees. But the truth was it hugged her form nicely showing her off to all who looked, and plenty did. She hated coming to these functions because she was always expected to dress like that and hated being on display. It wasn’t always like this, I remember when we were single and I was dating her. She would dress in some pretty revealing cloths back then. She had told me over the years of her somewhat wanton past. Besides her first husband of six years, she’d had an even dozen boyfriends and a few one-night stands. But her Christian upbringing was such that she was expected to be demure and forthright as a married woman. And that eventually led to our recent predicament. Not that she ever refused me, it was just that she never indulged me. No blowjobs, no experimental sex…nothing accept the missionary position. I was never able to shake her out of this thought process. Dam the religious right! Anyway, the. Wouldn't that be a first? From now on, dear, you have to think about such things." The bartender set down our glasses, and she went on. "Look at that! My but they're generous here. And yours is a double? Well, I suppose those tranquilizers I gave you back at the house have worn off by now, so I suppose it's all right." You gave me tranquilizers? Is that why I haven't been scared to death of everything you've been doing to me?" I remembered only at the last second to tone down my voice."Of course, dear. Do you mind, now that it's done? I'd never have gotten you out of the house and into a beautician's chair without them. You know that. And now look at us. Two girls out together. Your dream come true. Isn't it?" Yes," I had to confess. My voice was a little husky. "Thank you, dear. But you've never answered my question, why are you being so nice to me now, after years of hating..." I hesitated, and finished lamely, "of not wanting to know about... everything like this."The Maitre d'.
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