Queen of Heaven Ch. 01

A note: This story isn't intended to "pay off" right away. It takes a little time and will unfold over several chapters. If you're looking for speed, this isn't for you.

*****

"Sure, I like tits as much as the next guy." I'm fairly certain that was the first time I'd ever said such a thing in public.

"Of course, you do," she turned to face me at the juice bar. "I'm just saying you don't like tits as much as I do."

"Well, how do you figure that Michelle?"

This was not my average conversation at the gym. I mean, sometimes a guy would grunt at me and point out that one of the ladies was particularly attractive.

Okay, let's be honest... usually he'd just say "nice ass" and point. But I tried to discourage that. I mean, yeah, I notice beautiful women working out, too. Who wouldn't? I'm just saying that I have better training than to point, grunt and cat call. That's crude and pretty stupid, if you ask me. No woman has ever stopped and said to a cat caller, "Oh, wow. That makes me hot. Here's my phone number." It just doesn't happen. So, in addition to rude it's ineffective and unwelcome.

But, naturally, I notice attractive people. Everyone does. I still didn't expect to be having this conversation with Michelle. We'd only been dating for a month or so. Okay, maybe six weeks. We'd been out a several times, gone to dinner, gone to concerts, and spent a few nights at her place, but we were still figuring each other out. I knew she was beautiful. She worked hard. She was adventurous. And apparently she also had a membership at my gym. The part about her being into girls was an interesting surprise, but that was early on. Maybe on our second date. She was transparent about all things libido. I was certainly in favor of that.

"Seems pretty obvious to me," she continued. "I mean, I actually HAVE tits... and I'm pretty enamored of them as is. I mean, there are days when I catch myself in the mirror and give it a good 'Dayum.' So, we can start with... that girl likes her own tits at least as much as the average guy, right?"

"Fair."

"Okay. So, then you have to add in that I like them on other people at least as much as the average horndog guy."

"Now, that's a point I'd have to contend with. I mean, c'mon. Average guy sees a nipple and he can't think beyond the Neanderthal level. I think that's a pretty established fact, no?" I felt like I was on solid ground here. I have some experience with my own cognitive downshift, and I'm one of the more... enlightened... dudes in my circle.

"Well, not exactly," she clarified. "Sure, the first nipple a guy sees... probably right back to the Stone Age. But after that, there are varying levels of ogle, right? I mean, you got your nonchalant nudist acknowledgment that nipples are great but everybody has them so let's not freak out. And then you've got your every nipple is cause for walking into doors and walls and drooling and such. So, there's a range."

"True."

"Okay, well, if there's a range then you have to measure an average and let's just say the average is probably 'nipples are freakin' awesome, but I can act cool if I have to in that situation.' Genital reaction is at least sometimes controllable and there's no serious danger of committing assault, right?"

"Seems like a decent standard, but I'm still not sure how you imagine that you are more into tits than even the average dude," I offered. "I mean, even given the self-love I spotted you there, you'd have to rate the average guy a bit more obsessed since he doesn't even get the free peek that you get for yourself, so we'd have to assume he's a bit more motivated, no?"

"Nope. See that chick over there?" I followed her gaze to a squat machine at the edge of the main floor. A woman in her late-40s, dark red hair pulled back in a ponytail and into what must have been a double-digit rep given the level of effort, caught my attention. It took a second to realize that I knew her.

"Yeah, of course, I mean that's-"

"Doesn't matter who she is, but where we are is a little relevant," Michelle said with a bit of a twinkle in her eye.

"What do you mean? It's a gym. So what? Not exactly King Solomon's mines or anything."

"Yeah, I know. But we're at a gym. I really hate going to the gym. I know exercise is important and all, but I'd rather go for a run outside. It's just more fun, smells better, and I don't have to pay for it or talk to one of these meathead front desk people."

"Yeah. And."

"Well, that chick right there comes to this gym... so I come to."

"You mean, you work out here because you like to hang out with the woman doing squats? So, you know her? Like do you work with her or something, or did you just strike up one of those gym friendships?"

"Sort of. I mean, yeah, she's pretty hot in workout wear. I'll give you that. But I started coming regularly for another reason."

"Okay, I'll bite."

"See Gil, I came here on a trial membership and ran into her on my first visit. She's friendly. And, gyms have locker rooms. Turns out she's not at all shy about changing in the locker rooms and then heading to the showers. She wanders the room basically holding court. She'll talk to everyone. And the whole time... naked as the day she was born."

Michelle looked, I'd have to say, wistfully off at the squat machine, and said "yeah, that was a hell of a discovery."

"Oh."

"Yeah. After that chick chatted with me pretty authoritatively about where to stay in the Caribbean on my next vacation, I joined up. By week two, I'd made sure we were taking the same classes or at least had coordinated workout times. I needed a workout partner for some of the weight sets I was doing and she was happy to oblige."

"But, she's-"

"And to my original point, she has magnificent tits. I mean, wow. Sure she's a bit older than us, but the ... well, I guess heft... of those girls is amazing. Her nipples are just stellar- in that I've observed but can only imagine that touching them would burn me with the white hot fire of a sun."

"Uh... yeah, but she's-"

"Oh, fuck. Don't worry man, I'm not dumping you or anything. We're just getting to the fun parts of this thing between us."

I admit that that caused me a moment's hesitation. What exactly were we getting to? I was enjoying what was going on so far, but it seemed I wasn't up on the plan for what was coming next. Color me intrigued. Still, I thought it was important to try to say again, "but, she's-"

"Older? Yeah. So? Tell me you haven't ever had the hots for an older chick."

"Of course, I have. It's just that-"

"What? I mean, c'mon. I'd share. Maybe not the first night or anything... wouldn't want to scare her off, but if I got lucky I'd certainly tell you about it. Hell, maybe she'd be into dudes, too."

"Wait, you guys have talked about sex? She's into girls?"

"Well, I don't know. I think she's into me. At least all that heavy flirting seemed to indicate it. And she did sort of hint at dating a 'partner' in a really gender neutral sort of way while we were sharing travel tips in the locker room."

Michelle leaned over and whispered breathily in my ear, "... naked."

Then, of course, she burst out in a loud laugh.

"Oh the look on your face. You going to need a minute before we stand up here?"

"Uh, oh... so, you're just winding me up. Fine. Make fun of the young man with the healthy appetite and vivid imagination. That seems fair."

I admit I was actually a little relieved. But also not interested in standing up any time soon.

She chuckled and added, "well, yeah. I knew that detail would get your attention. And I like to keep you ... engaged. But seriously... she's pretty chatty when you get her lycra off."

"Seriously?"

"Sure. Curious about any of the details?"

"Well... let's see... late forties, right?"

"Even a girl never asks, but yeah I'd guess."

"Caribbean?"

"Yeah, she likes St. Martin quite a bit. Mentioned St. Lucia. Not a diver and not a fan of cruises but likes good food, good drink and sand."

"Uh huh," I replied as neutrally as I could. "Married?"

"Nope, divorced. One kid. Apparently my age or so, which means not likely to be home if I get her back to her place after a drink or seven."

"That's interesting."

"Okay. I guess. Not like mentioning the tattoo or anything."

"Tattoo?! She's got a tattoo?! When- I mean, what of?"

"Well, that sparked a reaction," she said with eyebrow firmly arched. "I didn't know you were into tats. You don't have any, unless I missed something."

"Er... no. I mean, they can be cool, but I don't have any and I note that you don't either. I was just- surprised. I mean, she doesn't seem like the type to have a tattoo, necessarily. And I don't see any from here."

"Well, no. You can't see it from here. But, c'mon. There's hardly a type anymore. Everyone has a tattoo nowadays, Gilbert. That we don't have any is actually weirder than her having one."

"Oh, I know. And Gilbert isn't my name dearest. So, uh, what's the tattoo of?"

"It's kind of cool actually. She's got this symbol that's sort of triangles and lines and stuff, but it's some ancient goddess' name or something."

"Really... I guess that's a conversation starter in some contexts."

She chuckled a bit and said, "yeah, it was for me. You'll be proud of my restraint but I didn't just reach out and touch it."

"I guess that's just how enlightened you are, right? So, I guess she was glad to talk about it?"

"Oh yeah, she'd just had it done in the last year or so and it was still pretty fresh. I mean, I guess folks are always willing to talk about their tats for the first year or two anyway. Besides it was right there on her thigh so I couldn't miss it."

"Of course you couldn't. I mean, who wouldn't be looking at a stranger's thigh?"

"Oh, you know me... Ms. Decorum."

"I've always said."

"Anyway, she was all chatty about it. Sounded cool. Apparently she teaches some sort of ancient history and this goddess chick is part of what she does. Apparently after the divorce, she decided to indulge a bit."

"Sounds interesting."

"Yeah. Anyway, she's finishing that set. Want to go meet her, Gil who isn't a Gilbert?"

I stood up and tossed my gym bag over my shoulder.

I said, "Yeah, I think I do. I bet we'll hit it off."

Michelle tossed her towel over her shoulder and dropped her juice cup into the bin. She said, "I hope so, but if it turns out she's not cool with you then give me some space. I don't want to blow my chances or anything."

She was joking... a little... but I knew her well enough now to know that she more meant it than didn't.

We walked across the gym floor past leg press machines and free weights. As we got closer to the older chick, she looked up from toweling off her machine. She lit up.

"Well, hey Mikey-Michelle-pal! I didn't realize you were here today. I'd have gotten you to spot me when I did the free weights."

"Oh you know, I'm around from time to time. So cool to see you."

"And you," she replied. "I'd give you a hug but I'm awfully sweaty right now. And of course, you brought around this handsome hunk o' man."

I laughed. Michelle looked at the two of us and said, "Uh, yeah. So, Anna this is my boyfriend-"

"Gil, you didn't tell me you were dating someone new."

"Well, you didn't tell me you'd gotten a tattoo, Mom. So I guess we're all learning new things today."