The New Laurie

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Copyright ©, 2006. All characters, events, and text in this story are purely fictional, and are created by and the sole property of the author. All rights reserved. Contains adult content.

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Throughout a person’s life, there come any number of potential epiphanies and character-changing events. The challenge is to recognize those opportunities, because they appear unannounced, camouflaged as everyday occurrences. I had one of those moments recently, and the trigger came to me via the Internet. I make it a point to read my e-mail messages the first thing after arriving at my office in Philadelphia, where I am a lady lawyer for an international marketing consulting firm. My field of specialty is European trade and intellectual property law. After booting up the PC, there were six new messages in my In-basket: two from current clients; one from a prospect with whom I had been corresponding for several weeks; and an inter-office group memo from George Margate, the senior partner, announcing the promotion of another lawyer to junior partner. That stung a little bit, because I thought that I would soon make junior partner, but somehow a male associate got the promotion ahead of me. ‘Ah, well,’ I said to myself. ‘You’ve had bigger disappointments, Laurie. Just keep on chugging.’

Then the fifth message caught me completely by surprise. It was like a message from a world that no longer existed for me. The sender’s name was Mike Alessi, an old friend with whom I hadn’t spoken in over eight years.

‘Hello, Laurie,

I hope that you still remember my name. Judy and I still reminisce about those great times in Philly with you and Jerry. How about that time in Fiore’s when we got drunk on Chianti, and went way beyond the antipasto? But that’s not the point. The reason I’m writing to you is that I have my own consulting firm now, and we are sponsoring a seminar in Napa, CA, this coming March (see the attached file of our announcement flyer). To round out the program, we are looking for a specialist in Eastern European marketing and business law for one of the breakout sessions. I did a search on Google for speaker candidates, and one of the hits was Ms. Laurie Simpson, LLP, a hot babe from my past. Judy works with me now as a facilitator and administrative assistant, and she and I would really like to see you and Jerry again. How about you doing a piece of the seminar, and then while you are in California, you and Jerry could spend the following weekend with Judy and me?

Please call me at this number, if you’re interested. Call even if you’re not – would love to chat about old times, and please give our regards to Jerry. Still thinking of those great times together in Philly, Mike’

I leaned back in my chair, stunned and thinking, ‘My God! Mike and Judy never heard what happened to Jerry. How could that have happened?’ Then I realized how many people from my past still did not know what happened to Jerry, and how it almost crushed my life. Tears quickly came to my eyes, reminding me that I still had not totally recovered from that horrible day – now almost two years ago – when Jerry took his Harley out for the first ride of the spring, and had his fatal accident.

I blinked and wiped my eyes with a tissue, and tried to re-focus my mind on something more pleasant. Mike’s recollection of the good times we had together back in the early ’90’s was a good place to start.

I first met Mike and his wife Judy in 1992, when he was working on his MBA at Wharton at the same time that Jerry – then my live-in boyfriend, who eventually became my husband – and I were studying at the U Penn law school. Mike and Judy rented a second floor apartment in a three-decker on the same block as our third-floor walk-up. We two couples became good friends during those three academic years. Well, actually, good friends is an understatement – there were a couple of times when the four of us got to drinking more than we should, and our parties got pretty hot.

However, after graduation, in spite of our intentions to maintain our friendships, our lives diverged. Mike and Judy left for the hi-tech bucks and mellow life style of Silicon Valley, California, while Jerry and I settled down in suburban Philadelphia, PA, and began our law practices. In 2002, Jerry got that damned Harley Electra-Glide – black, not blue, but I still can’t talk about it. Since Jerry’s death, my professional career has recovered and prospered, but not my social life. It’s not that I haven’t tried the singles and ex’s dating scenes, nor is it that I am unattractive. But it seems that when I reply to the question, ‘So, Laurie, what is it that you do?’ all the eligible males find excuses to go elsewhere. Lawyer jokes and some unethical practitioners have warped our culture against the profession. Since I recently passed the BIG FOUR-OH age milestone, I had to reluctantly accept the fact that my life outside of work would be predictable and monotonous. And the sex life for the now mature Laurie would be even more mediocre. But Mike’s e-mail changed çapa escort that, and started me on a surprising path. The idea of reuniting with Mike and Judy, as well as an escape from the winter blahs of Pennsylvania, appealed to me. I felt that I really needed to have some relief from the work pressures, and just have some fun, like in the old days. I wondered, though, if my being a widow would make a difference to Mike and Judy. I called Mike back, and informed him about Jerry’s death and why it would be impossible for us to have a reunion. While trying to fill Mike in on the details of Jerry’s death, I burst into tears. Mike, bless his heart, talked with me for almost an hour and eventually convinced me that Jerry’s absence made no difference. He and Judy still wanted me for the seminar, and that we three could still have a good time together. We negotiated that I would be responsible for a four-hour breakout session each afternoon of the three-day seminar, in which I would relate my firm’s experience in establishing an office in Macedonia. I would also offer some hands-on training for marketers and investors to learn the legalities and subtleties of doing business within the Balkan culture. Later that day, Judy called me to say how sorry she was to learn about Jerry, but how exciting it would be to reunite with an old friend. She said that she had reserved a room for me from Tuesday through the weekend in the Marriott Hotel in Napa, where the seminar would be held. We also went over some logistical details on what I would need for my breakout session.

I worked hard on my seminar presentation, and thought that I was well-prepared when I flew out to San Francisco, checking into the Marriott on Tuesday afternoon, the day before the seminar. Through e-mail and telephone arrangements made with Judy, who was acting as the seminar facilitator, I knew that my breakout session was to be located in a conference room off the main seminar area. I needed to set up a computer-driven video presentation system, along with a network of laptop PC’s to be used by the students in their training workshop sessions. All those details required considerable setup time. “No problem, Laurie,” Judy told me, when we discussed details the week prior to the seminar. “We’ve done lots of those kinds of setups. We’ll get it done the Tuesday afternoon before the seminar opening on Wednesday, no sweat.” However, Murphy’s Law – which says that if anything can go wrong, it will go wrong – struck. After unpacking, Judy met me in the seminar area off the lobby. Judging by the frown on her face, I didn’t think that our first meeting was going to be that happy. Nevertheless, she did manage a smile and gave me a tight hug.

“Oh, Laurie, it’s so good to see you again,” Judy exclaimed. “How is your room? I reserved two adjoining suites, so Mike’s and my room is right next to yours.”

“My room is just fine, Judy,” I replied. “Is Mike busy with conference preparations? You look kind of frazzled.”

“Frazzled doesn’t begin to describe how I feel,” she sighed. “I only wish that we could have reunited on a better day. First off, yesterday Mike had a client demanding to see him immediately in Santa Clara, so he won’t get here until Friday night. Then the Chardonnay conference room, in which your presentation was supposed to be held, had a fire sprinkler system failure last night, and the chairs, carpet, and everything are soaking wet. We’re going to have to switch you into the Merlot room, where the JSI seminar is being held at the moment. Unfortunately, we’ll have to wait until their seminar is over today before we can begin to set up your PC’s and network them.” “It says on the lobby bulletin board that they are planning to go until six tonight,” I replied.

But Judy, bless her heart, had a good alternative. “Look,” she said. “The staff here in the hotel will clear out the room after the JSI meeting concludes, and then they can do the basic table arrangement, including placing all the PC hardware for us. There’s no reason why you and I can’t enjoy an early dinner. I’ve made reservations at the Culinary Institute of America, and afterwards, we can see some of the sights of Napa while we’re waiting for the room to get set up. We’ll be back at the hotel by 8:30, and I’ll help you set up the computer cabling. I’m experienced with small office networking anyway.”

There really was nothing else that I could do, and I had heard how good the CIA restaurant was, so I tried to make the best of it. I decided to take a jet lag nap, agreeing to join Judy in the lobby a little before 6:00. She mentioned that the CIA was a dressy restaurant, which gave me an opportunity to use the sexy little black dress and accessories that I had bought especially for this California vacation. Underneath the dress, with its short hemline and low neck line, I wore a black lace half-bra with matching high-leg panties, along with thigh-high stockings. For jewelry to complete the effect, I put in new yellow gold ear pins with three cihangir escort princess-cut blue topaz stones, and hung a single larger topaz stone from a tiny gold chain around my neck. The final articles, after a French fragrance was applied to ear lobes and bosom, were black strappy sandals with three-inch heels. When I looked in the full-length mirror before leaving my room to rendezvous with Judy in the lobby, I felt quite feminine and sexy, one of the few times in a long while. Judy had changed out of her daytime blouse and pants suit into a dark blue knit dress, whose hemline made mine look like a midi-skirt. Every curve on her full-figured body was accentuated by the clingy dress, and she had piled her hair on the top of her head, with curls spilling out from an antique Spanish tortoise shell comb. Her graceful neck was further complimented by dangling earrings of silver filigree and semi-precious stones. But it was her eyes that somehow really got to me. She had generously applied mascara on her long lashes, and her lids and lower brows were brushed with a grey-blue shadow. When we met in the lobby and looked into each other’s eyes, something inside me clicked like never before. I think that Judy felt it, too.

“Laurie, you have to be the best looking lawyer that I have ever seen,” she said. “You look outstanding in that dress. I’ve always admired tall and slender women like you, with nice, but small breasts, and long, sexy legs. I’m more like a Renoir model – short, with plump boobs and large butt. If we put our bodies together, we’d make quite a pair, don’t you think?”

I was used to men making suggestive remarks to me, and I kind of liked to flirt with them as well. But I wasn’t quite sure what Judy was implying – it could have been the kind of innocent remark Californians make these days, or was she coming on to me? I decided to test the waters, so to speak, and smiled seductively at her while replying.

“Well, I suppose, Judy, that all of us women secretly harbor the desire for a figure that’s different from the one nature gave us. There have been many times when I wished that my boobs and ass were as buxom as yours.”

Judy drove us to the restaurant in her cute little Mazda Miata, and it felt wonderfully free to be riding with the top down on a balmy spring evening, while back home it was still frigid and gray. But the real experience was the dinner! The evening menu consisted of an appetizer of fresh water mussels sautéed in white wine, shallots and herbs, followed by an entrée of tenderloin of doe, with a rich, dark sauce and Shitake mushrooms. It was served with garden fresh broccoli, steamed to just the right tenderness, and garnished with herbal butter. Judy and I shared a half-bottle of chilled Chardonnay with the mussels, and then switched to an outstanding Pinot Noir with the red meat. For dessert, we indulged with peaches flambé, concluding with a small marc. I hadn’t had a dinner like that in years, and Judy was a vivacious companion. We chatted easily, and the wine and elegant atmosphere soon had us sharing our stories of the most romantic dinners we had. On the drive back to the Marriott, I noticed how clear the night sky was, and the abundance of stars. We were still somewhat wine-giddy when we arrived at the Merlot room in the hotel, to begin our evening setup work. Impulsively, Judy detoured to the hotel dining room, where she had the maitre-d’ fetch us a bottle of red and two glasses.

“There’s no sense in not enjoying ourselves while we’re working tonight,” she giggled. “Mary Poppins may have been correct for children with a spoonful of sugar, but for us women, we’ll get the job done with some good vino.”

She poured us each a glass, which we sipped as we examined the conference room. The hotel staff had done all their work as promised. They had arranged six long tables into three rows, with a center aisle facing the speaker lectern and projection screen. Two laptop PC’s were situated on the ends of each table, making a total of twelve student computers, plus my speaker PC and a video projection system, to connect into a network. “Well done, Judy,” I said appreciatively. “Everything is just as I wanted it. Now all we have to do is get ac power to each PC, and get the Ethernet cables hooked up. If all goes well, we should be through in about an hour.”

The help had provided a daisy chain of heavy duty orange extension cords for each side of the room, plugged into outlets on the front wall. At each table was a plug-in power strip, so all we had to do was plug in the AC power adapter for each laptop. I had FedEx’d to the hotel a collection of coaxial cables for the Ethernet network, and each PC had to have its individual T-connection to the coax cable that ran up the center aisle to my laptop, which would operate as the network server. Judy and I finished our first glass of wine, and she began connecting the AC adapters on the right side, while I took the left. It didn’t take long to discover our first glitch esenyurt escort of the night.

“Dammit!” Judy exclaimed after she had bent down to plug in the first adapter. “This dress is too tight for me to work on the floor. I should have thought ahead and brought some shorts or jeans to wear for this kind of work.”

I encountered the same difficulty when I bent my knees to reach the extension cord. “I’m not ruining this dress,” I said. “And you shouldn’t either, Judy. We’ll just have to do this early tomorrow morning, although that doesn’t leave any time margin for hookup problems.”

“I have an idea,” said Judy. “But before I suggest it, better have another glass of wine.”

She re-filled our glasses, and we took good sized sips before I asked her what she had in mind. Grinning mischievously, she walked to the conference room door, and locked it. After returning to the first row table, where she had been working, she set down her wine glass and proceeded to unzip the back of her dress. She tugged the tight mini-dress over her hips and let it fall to the floor. I gasped, and then giggled as she held out her arms to display her body, now clad only in a lacy bra, thong panties, and thigh-high stockings. Seeing her ample cleavage in the front, and her virtually nude derriere in the back had my insides tingling with sexual attraction.

“Voila!” Judy laughed earthily. “What the well-dressed and sexy IT nerd should wear. C’mon, Laurie; the door’s locked, and we have work to do. Let’s see you get out of that party dress and down to your work clothes.”

I giggled at the audacity of the scene, and proceeded to take off my dress as well. There must be some of the exhibitionist in all of us, especially when there is some risk in the situation as well. I got down to my work, literally, but more than once I found myself sneaking peaks at Judy’s almost bare ass, while she was on her hands and knees connecting cables. I also found myself wondering if she were sneaking peeks at me; I hoped that she was.

With no clothing restrictions, we quickly had each PC powered up. We celebrated that achievement with another glass of wine before proceeding on to the networking step. That glass put both of us well into the tiddly stage on the sobriety scale, and soon every little thing we did, or whatever difficulty that came up, caused us to giggle and laugh. The Ethernet cabling was trickier than the power hookup, and our alcohol-misted co-ordination did not help matters. Our conversation became more and more filled with earthy words and phrases, sounding like more like male second shift construction workers than ‘nice girls.’

Finally, by ten o’clock, all the PC’s had been powered up, networked together, and individually checked out. Of course, this was sufficient reason for another celebratory glass of vino, which was greedily swallowed, not sipped. The final step in the room setup was getting the video projection box connected to my master PC in the front of the room. Judy worked on the projector in the back of the room, while I struggled with the ‘Video Output’ connections on my laptop. She told me to try it out, and I started up my Power Point slide presentation. A couple of clicks of the ‘Enter’ key on my laptop had my first slide displayed in brilliant color on my laptop screen. I looked over my shoulder at the large screen, confidently expecting to see a duplicate, but larger image. Nothing.

We must have tried half a dozen different attempts to fix the problem, but none of them had any positive results. The more we tried, the more anxious and clumsy we became. Finally, Judy suggested that we disconnect every thing to the projector and my PC; then re-connect and re-boot. Wonder upon wonders, this time we got a perfect image on the screen! I was so relieved that everything was working, thanks to Judy’s efforts.

“Judy, you’re a genius!” I exclaimed, as I rushed to her and gave her a big hug. “I could just kiss you in gratitude.”

“Well, why don’t you?” she replied, and she pressed her lips against mine. Not lightly, like a conventional woman-to-woman peck to show social affection. This was a sensual, open-mouth, romantic kiss of the type reserved for lovers.

The feeling that came over me was electric. My insides instantly warmed and tingled with sexual arousal, and I responded to Judy’s kiss. I embraced her with more feeling, and my lips returned her kiss with hot passion. She must have felt that same electricity as well, and she began to nibble on my lower lip, and then explore behind my teeth with her tongue. At the same time, I felt her hands caressing my bare back below my bra, then moving up to run her fingers in my hair to pull me ever more tightly into a lovers’ kiss of sensual rapture. Eventually, we had to draw breath, and our mouths separated. My head was spinning with conflicting thoughts at that moment. Our kiss and embrace had obviously triggered my pent-up appetite for sex, but the person who turned me on was another woman! Oh, while in college, I had once experimented with ‘crossing to the other side of the street’ with one of my dorm friends, but in all my adult life I had never experienced this much attraction for a woman. One side of my head cautioned me to stop what we were doing, while the other was urging me on to go to still more heights of pleasure. It was Judy who made up my mind.

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