Carlin perked up at the idea as she sipped on her coffee and finished off the last of the brownie. “Go ahead, play something.” Every day she worked with him at the hospital and although he was a royal pain in the ass, Stephenson was a brilliant doctor. Carlin often forgot that he wasn’t a shabby musician either.

Stephenson wasn’t thrilled about being put into the spotlight especially not when he was zoned out but Carlin was zoned out too so anything he played was bound to sound good to her. Stephenson took a seat on the bench and began to play. It wasn’t long before Julie started to hum and then to sing, that didn’t surprise him, but when Carlin joined in, he was again amazed.

“My baby she done wrote me a letter.” The two women sang and he played. He didn’t stop when they got off the couch and started to dance, their hips rocking back and forth as they sang. “Gimme a ticket for an airplane, ain’t got time to take a fast train. Lonely days are gone, I'm a-goin' home, 'Cause my baby just a-wrote me a letter.” Now they were standing behind him watching him play. They were very close to his back making the short space between them hot and bristle with electricity.

“He plays so well.” Carlin complimented.

“Yes, he has…wonderful hands…doesn’t he?” Julie asked in what sounded like an innocent tone if one were tone deaf.

One night long ago, Georgia Carlin had felt those long strong fingers on her bare flesh. Yes, as she remembered they were quite wonderful. As the memory went through her mind, her nipples hardened.

Julie didn’t miss the little shiver that went through the good doctor. “Come on; let’s polish off that bottle of wine, Georgia. Piano man, you play us another tune.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Stephenson agreed his curiosity past its peak and knowing that wherever this night was going he wouldn’t be the one to put on the brakes.

Julie poured half a glass of wine for each of them while he played “New York State of Mind” for them. They talked in low voice and laughed a little, he could see Carlin’s face but Julie’s back was to him. Carlin’s glass almost empty she raised it to her lips to finish it and Julie picked that precise moment to reach out and touch her. The glass spilled red wine all over Carlin’s white blouse. He didn’t have to be psychic to know what was coming next, the question was; would Carlin let it happen?

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Julie cried, “we have to get that off before the stain sets in. Come to the bathroom with me.”

Stephenson watched but he kept playing and he kept in time with the song as Carlin got up and the two women went off to the bathroom. “I’ll be dammed,” he muttered. Red Wine on the White Blouse was right up there with Running Out of Gas. Yet, Carlin went for it and right now Julie was in there with her. She was getting the stained blouse off her and now only had the bra, skirt, and panties to go. Ol’ Crazy Rosie was pulling this off with the precision and grace of Casanova and again he wondered just how much experience she had in this area. What he had gotten himself into with her.

Still, all things considered, it was best not to rush the next move as the ball was in both courts at the moment. He reached into the piano bench and produced a bottle of J&B along with a glass. He poured a double and sat there listening to the tone of the voices becoming from behind the not-quite-closed bathroom door. Stephenson found he had a very nice view of them from in front and behind, he could see them in the mirror as they stood with their backs to him.

Water was being drawn into the sink. Julie was saying she was sorry and she’d pay for the dry-cleaning along with a new blouse if the stain didn’t come out. Carlin, tripping her ass off and not knowing, just laughed and said it was nothing to worry about. Stephenson would bet the blouse set Carlin back two hundred bucks. Finishing off the glass, Stephenson slowly and very quietly, made his way to the door to listen and peer through the crack.

Carlin was standing over the sink, steam was rising in front of her and covering the mirror as she ran a bar of soap over the stain and tried to scrub it out. She was wearing a white lacy bra and her firm breasts jiggled side to side as she scrubbed. Julie was standing behind her admiring the same jiggle. “Oh no, the stain’s gone clear through.” Julie said as though she were truly sorry and completely innocent of any wrongdoing. “Your pretty bra has got a wine stain on it, you’ll have to take it off and soak it.”

Carlin looked down to see that her new Victoria’s Secret bra was just as ruined as the blouse, she was saddened, under other circumstances she would probably be very angry but…well…it just didn’t matter. She straightened up and looked at herself in the mirror. The stain was big; she glanced behind her at Julie.

“I’ll help.” Julie offered sweetly as she reached out and ran the flat of her hand along Carlin’s bare back to the bra hooks. “You know, you’re a very beautiful woman.” Julie said in a husky voice as her hand slid along Carlin’s flesh making goose bumps rise on the sensual skin. Sliding one hand beneath the strap, she used the free one to unhook it and slid it down past Carlin’s shoulders and to the steaming water below.

Carlin didn’t stop her. At first, she was surprised but soon gave she over to the brilliantly soft sensation of Julie’s feminine hand on her delicate skin. Found that she wanted Julie to touch her. One of Julie’s hands slowly made its way down to Georgia Carlin’s ass while the other reached around to cup one of her breasts. Maybe it was the wine or the meal or, for once, maybe it was the company, but, for whatever reason, Julie’s touch was not only welcome but also desired. Not rough like a man, not calloused or unmanicured, but velvety smooth on her sensitive skin. It made her throat close and breath hitch in her chest. Julie’s touch was intoxicating as was her honeysuckle scent. Carlin hadn’t been touched in months by either man or woman. Carlin didn’t know and she didn’t stop to care about right or wrong, man or woman. The only thing she knew was that she wanted more. “What are you doing?” Carlin asked in a raspy voice.

“I want to touch you, Georgia.” Julie replied as she leaned in closer to whisper against the nape of Carlin’s neck. “I made to make you feel good.” He lips closed down around the soft sensitive flesh just below Carlin’s ear as the hand on her ass made its way around the front of Carlin’s firm body first ascending upward to cup the other breast and then moving down to the space between her legs. “I want to touch you, taste you.” With both hands, Julie turned Carlin around so they were face-to-face and breast-to-breast. “Don’t you want that?” She took in the shallow breaths and flush in Carlin’s cheeks as Julie reached out to brush a lock of dark hair away from the woman’s face. “I think you do. You want me to make love to you.”

On the other side of the door, Vin Stephenson popped a boner the likes of which even God had never known.

Carlin licked her lips and stared into Julie’s eyes as all three hearts raced and anticipated which way this evening would ultimately unfold. Much like her last trip, she hadn’t been with a woman since college but as Carlin recalled the experience had been very gratifying. One she would like to indulge in again. “Touch me.” Carlin whispered. Julie herself was a very desirable woman with that lithe little body and those haunting eyes. It was easy to see what Stephenson saw in her and why he wanted her so badly. Carlin’s eye closed when Julie reached out and traced her finger in the space between Carlin’s heaving breasts. Georgia Carlin didn’t live in a vacuum, she’d seen the images of Julie on the Internet and the TV—or what the TV was allowed to show of them. She was always shooing reporters away from the grounds these days; they all wanted to know about Julie. Carlin knew Stephenson got some really disgusting inquiries where his new ladylove was concerned; the ones Carlin fielded weren’t exactly pristine.

Neither was Julie. The Black Widow. The Video Vixen.