martine and wendy by Sid Powell

An empty 750 mL bottle of cheap Chardonnay sat between them on the small round bistro table in Wendy’s bedroom.  Martine admired Wendy’s taste but was too shy to pay her compliments for fear that she would come off looking like that eager new kid in class that has no friends.  The one that the teacher implores everyone to show around the school and sit with at lunch charitably.  Though Martine was secretly campaigning heavily for a female friend and companionship, she didn’t want to look too desperate; there was a matter of maintaining some level of dignity.  Caribbean women don’t beg her mother had always told her in her thick accent.    

Sipping on wine and munching on cheese and crackers, Martine got lost in the splattered Spanish tiles that covered the top of the table.  The sea splash blues and sun fire oranges on the tiles reminded Martine of her home in the Caribbean and made her long for her own kitchen back in St. Kitts where her mother would make fresh conch salad for breakfast and crispy fried conch fritters for dinner.  The sound of a late night talk show dribbled in the background as the women went on with another night of being forced to ‘get to know each other’.  A hollow plan contrived by their husbands Rick and Trevor who had been best friends since elementary school.

Lately, Martine had found herself in a state of perpetual loneliness since having relocated from her country to the states to marry Rick.  Rick’s mother had planned the entire wedding along with Rick’s sister while Martine had pretty much exercised nothing more than the muscles in her neck nodding her head in agreement to color selections, food choices, and venue possibilities.  She wasn’t at all happy about having her first and hopefully only wedding planned for her but the language barrier that existed made it difficult for her to stand her ground.  

In roughly 2 weeks all of the hoopla would be behind her anyway and she would come out of it all a beaming new bride taking on the moniker of Mrs. Richard Alstead. To add to the pitiful nature of having had virtually no say so in her wedding plans, Martine’s matron of honor was going to be a woman she barely knew; the woman presently sitting across from her; Wendy.   

Wendy fumbled to open a second bottle of cheap Chardonnay with a cheap wine bottle opener while Martine observed quietly.  They had known each other for such a short period of time that Martine was clueless about even the most basic information regarding her new BFF.  If her life depended on it Martine wouldn’t be able to disclose best friend tid bits of knowledge such as Wendy’s favorite singer, her dream place to vacation, the food she would want to eat every day for the rest of her life if ever stranded on an island, or her top five movies.  In essence, the critical things you should know about your best girlfriend were a complete mystery to both women but they were working on it.  Martine had recently decided that she liked Wendy far more than she thought she would.  Wendy and Martine were total opposites in the sense that Wendy was extremely extroverted whereas Martine could easily find herself lost amongst the smallest of crowds.  But a silent agreement had been made.  Since Rick and Trevor were determined to force the women into a best friendship, the two women were going to make the most of it and actually try to become friends.  

Rick was constantly pushing Martine in Wendy’s direction.  Every chance he got he would slip in a “You should ask Wendy if she’d like to go with you” or “Call Wendy and see what she thinks.” The true goal of these suggestive statements weren’t lost on Martine in the least.  She knew that Rick wanted her to bond with Wendy so that he and Trevor could hang out together minus the guilt of leaving their wives alone while they hopped from one strip club and sports bar to another around town on occasion.  Tonight the guys were out at a bachelor party for a mutual friend and the women were left to entertain themselves the best way they knew how; with stiff conversation and copious amounts of wine.  

At this point, the wine was numbing their insides and both women were feeling loose and giddy.  Wendy put the television on mute and decided to play some music instead and with that, a conversation between the women finally opened up.   

“So what do you like to listen to?”Wendy asked Martine.

“Mostly Pop,” Martine replied.

“Pop?  Pop as in Kelly Clarkston, Jessica Simpson?” Wendy asked.

“Exactly, I love them!” Martine exclaimed.  

Wendy was devastated as she flipped through Pandora to select a Pop playlist.  She quickly accepted the fact that she had no choice but to be the consummate host and with that Kelly Clarkston’s voice filled the room.  Martine immediately started chanting the lyrics holding an invisible microphone close to her lips resembling a reject from Caribbean Idol.   

“Look at you!” Wendy said.  “I’ve never seen you so relaxed.”

“I guess I’m getting more comfortable with you,” Martine said. “And the wine definitely helps.”

Both of the women giggled.  An awkward silence filled the room until Wendy couldn’t stand it any longer.    

“Truth or dare?” Wendy blurted out.

Martine chugged the last bit of wine in her glass staring blankly at Wendy.  

“Truth or dare??” Wendy asked again in a school girlish high pitched tone.

Martine clearly had no inclination as to what the hell Wendy was asking her.  Many things got lost in translation between the American woman and her new Caribbean friend.    

“I don’t know,” Martine said.  

“You’ve never played truth or dare?” Wendy asked shaming Martine into an untruthful response.  

“Ohhhhh, truth or dare, yes I know that game.”Martine said completely embellishing.

“Soooooo, truth or dare?” Wendy asked once more.

“The truth,” Martine responded.  

Wendy took an obnoxious gulp of wine as she brainstormed on an inappropriate question to ask Martine that she hoped would further lighten the mood between the nascent comrades.    

“Have you ever cheated on Rick?” Wendy asked Martine.  

Martine spit her wine out in a projectile vomiting manner and it landed all over Wendy’s bare chest which was exposed in her spaghetti strapped tank top.  

“Shit that’s cold!”Wendy shouted.

Martine hopped up quickly to run to the bathroom and grab a towel coming back apologizing profusely.  

“I’m so sorry,” Martine said while softly patting Wendy’s chest and breasts dry.  

“It’s ok, I’m not going to melt,” Wendy said.  “Trevor would have licked it off; he’s such a fucking freak.”

“I’ve never cheated on any of my boyfriends,” Martine admitted.  “Have you?”

“I sure have.  Come to think of it, Trevor is the first guy I’ve been with that I haven’t cheated on.”  “Wait, women don’t count right?”  

Martine’s eyebrows wrinkled and curled in various directions.  She wasn’t certain she had heard the statement correctly.  Wendy could see the confusion across Martine’s forehead and decided to have a little fun with her new bestie.  

“You’ve never been with a woman?” Wendy asked.

The gray area had been removed and Martine was crystal clear on what Wendy meant.  

“No way, Never” Martine said.  “It would be cheating and I don’t like women in that way.”  

“So if we kissed right now you feel like you’d have to tell Rick when you got home tonight?”Wendy asked.

Martine was enjoying the titillating conversation as evidenced by a slight tingling in her nipples and a feeling she couldn’t explain in her lower region.  Confused by both sensations, Martine shifted to another position on Wendy’s bedroom floor.  

“Of course I’d have to tell him, but I’m not going to have to tell him anything because that would never happen!” Martine said with as much confidence as she could muster up.  It wasn’t much at all.  

I gotta pee Wendy said standing up and trotting off to her bathroom.  When she returned she walked up behind Martine and stroked her hair playfully.  Wendy had always had a thing for women with long hair and was entranced by the silky feel of it between her fingers.  

Martine bent her head up backward looking at Wendy her chin lifted in the air.   

“Your hair is so pretty, I could play in it all day,” Wendy said.  

In that moment nothing and everything made sense.  Wendy was transported back to her college days when she had experienced her first kiss with a woman after a late night of drinking and smoking with her roommates.  Suddenly the room shrank back and all Wendy saw was the suppleness of Martine’s lips and the soft curves of her face.  Without a second thought she went for it.  She leaned down and kissed Martine letting her lips part just enough for Martine to feel the wetness of her mouth.  

Wendy had no way of knowing what Martine’s response would be once they physically connected at the lips.  To her delight, instead of rejecting the kiss, Martine opened her mouth and began to lightly tickle Wendy’s tongue with her own, then slowly began to suck on it.  In one fell swoop, the women were engaged in a euphoric play session without rules or boundaries.  

Martine broke the kiss first pulling back wiping her mouth and laughing slightly to distract from what had just taken place.  

“You’re silly,” Martine accused Wendy.

“And you’re pretty,” Wendy said in a mannish way that surprised even her.  

The women stared at each other trying to find answers to the why and how of what had just happened.  But nothing came to mind so the only thing that truly made sense was to top off their glasses and continue drinking and so they did.  

Wendy stood up and stumbled over to the dimmer switch on her wall and turned the lights down several levels to a more fitting dimness for their drunken mood.  

“What now?  You’re gonna make love to me?” Martine joked not trying to hide her own thick Caribbean accent.  It turned Wendy on more.

Wendy sat back down directly facing Martine and only millimeters away from her face.  Both women sat Indian style cradling their wine glasses in both hands.  They drank.  Fast.  They poured up again and drank some more.  Wendy finally spoke.  

“Do you want me to?”

“Do I want you to make love to me?” Martine repeated.  “No, I was joking. You take me too serious.”

“What if I want to taste you and feel you all over Martine?” Wendy asked. “I’ve never made love to a woman but what if I wanted you to be my first?”

“We can’t do that,” Martine said.  “Plus I don’t want to do that.”

“You sure you’re not just saying that?” Wendy asked.  “They would never know, the guys.”  

“I would know and plus I DON’T like women,” Martine said trying to convince herself not to go any further with Wendy than she already had.  

Wendy finished her wine and set the glass aside.  She straddled Martine strategically and began kissing her again holding her face and the nape of her neck gently between her hands.  

The moans elicited from Martine’s throat and her body language told Wendy that Martine DID in fact want to try a new thing.  That she could be enticed by a woman’s touch.  

Wendy decided to continue pushing the envelope and went for second base unbuttoning Martine’s shirt.  Martine grabbed Wendy’s hand and stopped her.  

“No, don’t,” Martine said.  

“Yes, I’m going to,” Wendy said.  “I’m going to do it, move your hand.”

Martine was taken aback by Wendy’s forceful demeanor and moved her hand and with that the women’s bodies became completely entangled in one another.  Wendy wanted nothing more than to put her mouth all over Martine’s smooth body.  She was anxious to find out how Martine would smell and taste down there.  

Martine lay back flat on the floor assuming the less dominant role and Wendy took that opportunity to slide Martine’s pants and panties all the way off.  Wendy removed her own garments and was lying on top of Martine with a mouth full of one of her breasts while massaging her rhythmically below the waist.  Wendy took Martine’s squirming to mean that she was doing something right so she sucked and rubbed harder.  

“This is crazy,” Martine whispered heavily.  

“Isn’t it,” Wendy agreed in a direct whisper into Martine’s ear.

Wendy thought of how her husband Trevor would lick and suck on her in an attempt to satisfy her so she mimicked his tactics hoping it would bring Martine the same pleasure.  It did.  

“Don’t run from me,” Wendy warned Martine.  

She grabbed her and pulled her back underneath her body.  

“I want to make you scream,” Wendy told Martine.  

Martine managed to sit up and looked at the clock.  

“They’ll be home soon, they’ll catch us,” Martine said.  

Wendy filled her mouth with Martine’s clit and finally had the upper hand.  She massaged and licked it with her tongue and made Martine forget all about Rick for the moment.  

Martine spread her legs open wider and Wendy took that to mean that she wanted more attention down there so she gave it to her.  In fact, she gave it to her until Martine was pulling at the back of Wendy’s head yelling her name as the bedroom door opened and Trevor and Rick stood in shock with their mouths agape.  

The two men looked at each other.  The women sat up hastily caught red handed covering their naked bare essentials with their hands and shared a guilty glance.

“Baby I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Martine apologized to Rick.  

Trevor and Rick shared a knowing look both taking off their coats.  Wendy knew Trevor was down for whatever and took that as her cue.  She crawled back over to Martine and continued where she had left off.  Rick and Trevor joined the party and Martine was liberated in ways she never could have imagined that night.  

Rick and Martine were married a few weeks later and Wendy and Martine became the best of friends and sometimes more every now and then when the guys would hang out without them.  What the guys didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.  


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