A Sizzling Summer by The Bay - Part Three

Need To Catch Up...

A Sizzling Summer by The Bay - Part Three

June 2016 – San Francisco


“It really is a very pretty city as far as big cities go, ya know?” Estelle said offhandedly as Iona drove them back to Iona’s place. Estelle was taking in the sights of ‘The City by The Bay,’ as they drove.

“I agree.”

“Definitely more picturesque than LA.”

“Well, I think some would beg to differ,” Iona deadpanned.

“Yes, I should think a good chunk of the four mill that reside there. One would hope.”

Iona glanced over at Estelle and smiled. Estelle felt herself warm.

She’d been squirming with anxious delight over spending the evening at Iona’s tonight. Things between them had been heating up. The flirting was ever so subtle but had continued at work. Iona might wink at her, or make a comment that only Estelle would get. Estelle would feel herself flush with heat and desire.

Things with her and Dayton had been rough when they parted, but she was ready to move on. She’d wasted so much time not living, she wanted to throw caution to the wind, and feel alive again. Yet, every time things would get even a little too heated, Iona seemed to retreat into herself. The coquettish flip-flopping was only driving Estelle’s frustration to the brink. After seven years of what had gone down in her past relationship, ‘this kind of frustration,’ was something she’d learned to develop great patience for.

When Estelle walked through the door to Iona’s cozy flat, she was instantly greeted with a faint whiff of cinnamon vanilla lingering in the air. The 600 square foot, top floor space, was an open floor plan with vaulted ceilings. Only two little rice-paper screens divided what would be considered the bedroom area. Iona opted for a minimally decorated appeal.

The focal point of her living room area was a large framed movie poster of “Sin City” over the couch. It featured Rosario Dawson in a scant leather outfit, wearing high heels, and holding a gun. Estelle had never seen the movie, but she thought Rosario Dawson was an excellent actress to put on a pedestal if you were going to idolize any given woman in Hollywood.

Estelle let Iona take her coat and purse. She hung them on her coat rack by the front door. Estelle wandered to the movie poster to get a closer look.

“I’ve never seen Sin City. Is it about Vegas?” Estelle asked.

“Noooo,” Iona chuckled. “Not even close. It’s based on a fictional city called Basin, hence the play on the word ‘sin.’ As you can see, I love that movie. It’s definitely a little gritty and macabre, but kinda artsy in its own way. Hard to explain unless you see if for yourself. Totally worth it just to see Dawson shimmy around in that outfit, though! I think Dawson is actually bi.” Iona didn’t seem abashed at hiding her lust for the actress.

Estelle laughed. “So can I ask a personal question?


“Are you lesbian or bi?”

“I’m bi.”

“Same here,” Estelle chirped. “Ya know how they say some people have good ‘gaydar,’ well I think I have a pretty keen sense of ‘bi-dar.’”

Iona bust out laughing. “Bi-dar. Huh, that’s a new one, but I get where you’re coming from.”

“I don’t know. I just got that vibe from you. I’m very rarely wrong.”

“Well you nailed it.”

Their eyes locked, and the zing of electricity that passed between them was almost tangible. They stared at each other, then Iona diverted her gaze, breaking the connection. She turned to a little paper on her kitchen counter and picked it up. “Well, I’ll put the food order in, and you can set up over there.” She pointed at the small kitchenette table.”

“Sounds good. I don’t think we’ll have to work very long tonight. I think we’re almost done. I’m glad Quinn approved us to work at home. This has been great, finally getting to know someone in the city. I’ve been here three months, and I haven’t really bothered to get out and socialize too much, ya know?”

“Oh, girl, I totally understand. It’s been…” Iona’s words trailed off for a moment. “Hey, what do you like on your pizza?”

“Mushroom and peppers.”

Iona scrunched her nose. “Seriously? You like the two toppings practically everyone hates. You’re killin’ me.” She chuckled. “I like the meat-lovers. Meat, meat, and more meat, please.”

“So you’re that type of bisexual girl, eh?”

Iona’s cheeks flushed as she realized how that statement sounded. She recovered quickly and rolled her eyes. “I like it half and half when we’re not talking pizza toppin’s.”

“Ahh, okay… Sure…” Estelle teased.

Iona pulled two craft ales out of her fridge and popped the caps off. She handed one to Estelle.

“Thanks,” Estelle said. “I love craft ales! Although I’ve never seen this label.”

“That’s cause it’s a local guy.”

Estele took a sip. It had a hint of orange imbued in the malt flavor. “Wow, this is great! Where did you buy this?”

“Farmer’s market. There’s a vendor who just started a brewery. I thought I’d give him a try, and well, yeah, my reaction was the same as yours.”

“Ya know I haven’t actually been to any of the farmer’s markets here. Are they any good? The one in Monterey where I grew up is pretty hard to beat,” Estelle said tauntingly.

“It can’t possibly be as good as the one here. I mean, it’s San Francisco!” Iona said.

“I don’t know, the one in Monterey is world-renowned.”

“You don’t say?”

“I do, but I’d be willing to check out the one here. Maybe we should go together.”

“That would be fun.”

“When is it?” Estelle asked.

“The one closest to us is on Saturdays between ten and two. I’m so not a morning person. We could go around noon?”

Estelle burst out laughing. “Wow, you really aren’t a morning person if ten is too early in the morning for you.”

“Exactly. Anything occurring before 11:59, is way too early.”

“How do you manage to hold down a corporate job? I would imagine you have to get up at least by 6 a.m. to be at work on time?”

“Eh, as you see, I manage.” Iona shrugged. “I think I’ve only been late to work maybe twice since I started.”

“Well, don’t slip up too much. Quinn hates tardiness. She equates it to being a slacker. Not that I’m saying you are, but just giving you fair warning.”

“Oh, I know. She’s quite the Ice-Queen, isn’t she? What’s up with that woman? Does she just hate me, or does she hate everyone?” Iona huffed.

“She doesn’t hate you. It just takes her a while to warm up to people.”

“And she’s warmed up to you?”

Estelle merely grinned and shrugged.

They chatted about inconsequential work-related things for ten or fifteen minutes longer, waiting for the food. The doorbell rang, and Iona paid for their food.

“Wow, smells great. That was fast,” Estelle said.

“It’s a little pizza joint, just down from my place here. They aren’t half bad.”

Estelle pulled open the box. Iona had the 14-inch pie made with her toppings on one half, and Estelle’s on the other. She gingerly picked up a piece and dropped it on a plate quickly. It was piping hot. She licked at her fingers and caught Iona staring at her.

Iona flushed, then tried to cover up her gawking with some light sarcasm. “Careful, it’s hot,” she chirped.

Estelle cracked a smile and cocked her head to the side, “Yes, thank you for that, Captain Obvious.”

Iona shook her head and laughed. “I can’t lie. I’m exhausted. Do we really have to do any of this tonight?”

“There isn’t that much. I feel like you’re pretty much up to speed now.”

“To be honest, I feel like I’m good.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then maybe we should just blow off work and watch a movie? Maybe Sin City? Something tells me you have a copy?” Estelle said.

“I do have a copy,” Iona said thoughtfully. “I still have some things I could probably tighten up before the meeting next week, but I can get it done on Sunday. I always was great at cramming in college.” She enunciated the word ‘cramming’ with a slight sexual edge.

Estelle was not slow on the uptake. “That so? You strike me as someone who’s good at a lot of things.” She held Iona’s gaze.

“Well, stick around, and I might show ya a thing or two,” Iona challenged.

“I might just do that,” Estelle quipped.

Estelle had every bit of confidence that Iona would not let her down in getting the last bit of her share done and prepped.

They decided, without much resistance to the idea, that a night of R&R would do them some good. Iona popped some corn and capped off two more beers, as they settled in for an evening of fun.

Whether it happened on accident or purpose, Iona had slid fairly close to Estelle when she sat down on the couch. Their arms were barely brushing each other. After a few minutes into the movie, when Bruce Willis’s character lets Jessica’s Alba’s character go, Estelle gasped. “Aww, that’s so sad.”

“I did warn you it was gritty. I think it’s more bitter-sweet.”

Iona began to run her fingertips up and down Estelle’s arm lightly. It was a soft touch, and Estelle could feel herself getting hot, and her sexual frustration notching up. She was just about to lean in further and kiss Iona, when she abruptly stood up.

“Ya want another beer?” Iona asked.

Estelle was utterly flummoxed. “Uh, yeah, sure,” she tried to sound casual, but she was about to drop her pants and masturbate right then.

When Iona returned, she plopped down a considerable distance away.

They spent the rest of the night with a strange forced casualness between them. They laughed and giggled like teenagers salivating over Rosario Dawson in leather and heels. However, Estelle couldn’t help but feel confused about what had transpired. She could feel they were overcompensating to pretend like it hadn’t occurred.

By the time the evening was coming to a close, Estelle noticed that subtle pull, turning into something like a highly charged magnet, yet again.

As Iona stood close to her by the door, seeing her out, it would have been so easy to take one step in and softly press her lips to Iona’s. They locked eyes, and for a moment, Estelle thought she might do just that. Both of them seemed to be weighing the decision.

Estelle felt this gut instinct that she needed to let Iona come to her. So she waited, and it seemed like Iona was going to, but then her phone pinged, letting her know the Uber was there.

She glanced at the screen, then back up at Iona.

The moment had passed. Estelle sighed. “Well, this was amazing. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no worries. So about tomorrow, should we just meet there?”

“Oh, I forgot about the farmer’s market.” Estelle rubbed her head. She was tired. She wished Iona had offered for her to stay. The mixed signals were maddening. “Yeah, I’ll look it up and just meet you there. I’ll text you when I arrive? Let’s say around noon?”

“Okay, sounds great. Thanks. I really needed this,” Iona said.

“Yeah, same here. Alright, see you tomorrow.”

Estelle left and heard the door close behind her. Her cab was waiting at the curb. On the drive home, she pondered Iona’s behavior. She was sure Iona was interested in her. Well, mostly sure. She suspected there was some emotional wall holding Iona back. It seemed too early in the relationship to pry into something that was likely very personal.

Then again, maybe the hot and cold coquettish behavior was just how Iona rolled? Some people could be like that. No way to know, other than to push forward.

She was looking forward to their date tomorrow. Maybe it wasn’t a date, but Estelle could push the envelope a bit. She’d make it known to Iona, that she was under the impression it was a date.

She was eager to get home, and the cab couldn’t seem to get her there fast enough. She needed to masturbate if she was going to attend this date tomorrow without having lady blue-balls. Between her long stretch of abstinence and Iona having her so hot and bothered, it was a wonder the Uber driver couldn’t smell the sex pheromones.

Enjoying the story? See something that could be improved upon?

Leave a comment down below!


4 Responses

  1. Wow, you really are going slow here!
    Love it, it’s great idea. As always I want to read more 😄
    Thanks for such a nice story.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *