Stereotypes Seduced (Lesbian Erotica)

Meeting Carmen

I stood in the living room wondering what I should do today. I already cleaned the house from top to bottom. I washed the window sills and the baseboards. I ironed the tablecloths, the napkins, and the curtains. The house smelled better than brand new. I considered spending my vacation with someone, but I was tired of meeting omen online. We spent days getting to know each other over the phone. We would then meet and I would learn that I did not meet their criteria of a femme, stud, or a lesbian. I was just tired of meeting women.

As I sat down on the couch and thought about stereotypes and boxes.  I am not a stud or a femme. In fact, I am not into stereotyping women, but most people can't help themselves. When I see a woman who made me feel light headed, I could never initially pinpoint the reason why I was attracted to her. Over the course of time, it mainly dealt with my fantasy of her personality. Although it sounds stereotypical, those women rarely resembled one another. Each woman's physical appearance varied from thin to voluptuous, feminine and tomboyish.

Although I am not into mannish women, some of my friends are into them. Women wearing boxer shorts and men's cologne does not stimulate my libido.  On the other end of the spectrum are ultra-femmes. They often told me that I could not spend enough money to date them. I was fine with that assessment. I do not relish taking care of any grown person who is capable of providing for self. Supposedly, these women have one job, which is looking good for their mate. They are reserved for the ballers. They throw temper tantrums, because they are pampered and in a way­ purchased. You know the product so there is no room for negotiation. She doesn't cook, clean, or work. She can manage a household; shop for you, her, and the house. She orders food, gives orders to the housekeeper, looks fantastic on any occasion, and allows you to fuck her anyway that you chose to fuck her. Now, I don't look down on any type of woman. There are just certain mannerisms that some of them have that hinders me from falling in love. "Achoo," see, I'm allergic to even talking about them; giggling to myself.

While relaxing on my leather couch, drinking a robust glass of Shiraz, I wondered why I even bothered going online or anyplace to meet women. I reminded myself that I am too shy to approach women, then my phone rang.

"Hi woman, what's up?" I said as I answered the phone.

"Nothing much, I'm just bored. I want to go to Phase One or My Sister's Room," she said.

"Karen, you know I am not into the club scene, but ok. I'm so bored I need to do something. My vacation ends in a few days and I need to have a little fun before I go back to work." I said.

"I don't know how you crunch numbers all day, but if you like it, I love it." Karen said with disdain.

"Being an accountant is a rewarding job Karen. I'm sure it's not as fulfilling as savings someone's life, but I can settle for saving people from the IRS." I said.

We both laughed. "Okay Karen, in which club are we shaking our butts and what time will we meet?" I sighed.

"Why do I have to decide?" She whined.

"Because it's you're idea," I shot back.

"Oh yea; since it's Thursday, let's hit My Sister's Room. I'll meet you there at 11 o'clock." She excitedly replied.

"That's a great time," I said. "You know if I don't get out of the house by then, I'm not going out."

My clothes were laid out for the night; black jeans, a crème sweater and black boots. It's still a little cold out. My hair is what some people might call boring. It is black, straight, and curled under at my shoulders. I like the style because it's simple. Plus, it matches my frame. I am slim in the right places and thick in the right places.

I took a shower, dressed, pulled my hair behind my ears, and jumped in my fuchsia hybrid. When I arrived at "My Sister's Room," I checked my lip gloss in the mirror and glanced at my fabulous, tear shaped silver earrings. I stepped out of my Volt feeling like a superstar.

"Tonight's cover charge is $10." The doorwoman declared.

After paying the fee, I headed straight to the chipped and marked, wooden bar in the back of the room. The room was about 30'x30' and filled with women of all shapes, sizes, and ethnicities. After a few minutes of excusing my way through the room, I arrived at the bar and ordered a Heineken. As the bartender handed me a bottle, Karen reached over and paid for it.

"I got it." She said in my ear.

"Lady, you are something else." I said as I gave her a hug.

We both turned around with our backs to the bar and scanned the room. From the bar, we could see the stage in the front left corner of the club. The ladies on the stage were usually doing something wild. The lighting on the stage was a soft yellowish color, but with the DJ lights flashing, who noticed. The DJ booth was to the right of the entrance door but not quite in the front of the club. We continued scanning the room and drinking our beers.

That's when I noticed that she was staring at me. I know sometimes I am mistaken for an aggressive femme, but she looked like the ultra femme type. So, I gave one of my shy half smiles and continued scanning the room. I grew tired of standing in one spot with people trying to get around me to get drinks. I guess we were being a little selfish and rude, so I tapped Karen on the shoulder.

"Let's walk." I said into her ear.

We walked around the club looking for seats, stopping in different spots. We kept our eyes on the dance floor, which consisted of any space not occupied by the bar, the stage, the DJ booth, the entrance door, the bathroom, and the table and chairs.

In "My Sister's Room" you'd see women of all shapes and sizes. They had any and every hairstyle and color that you could imagine; all complexions and all races. On Thursday nights, most of the women were African-American. We moved again and she was right in my face. She smiled; I smiled, then looked at my beer. Then I felt air on my ear as she said, "Now you don't seem like the shy type. Hi, I'm Carmen. What's your name?"

I managed, "Hi Carmen, I'm Neica." I introduced her to Karen and she asked me if I wanted to dance as she grabbed my hand and led me into the crowd of bodies. We squeezed between people and found a tiny pocket of space. I two-stepped as she danced, turning around and grinding her butt into my crotch area. Once she turned back around, she put her hands on my waist and came close to me.

"You don't dance?" She asked.

"No, not really... This is as much as I do," I replied. "I think I am going to get another beer. It was nice dancing with you." I said, as I smiled.

I turned around and walked toward the bar. I received my second beer and turned around, scanning the room for Karen. I felt someone grab my hand. I looked over and it was Carmen.

"Call me if you're interested in going to lunch," she said in my ear.

My fingers wrapped around the piece of paper she placed in my hand.

"Ok," I said.

She turned and walked away; that's when I spotted Karen sitting down talking to some cutie. I didn't want to interrupt, so I scanned the room some more. My feet were killing me,  I really wanted to sit down. I looked over to Karen a few minutes later, and she looked bored out of her mind. So, I walked over to her and sat in her lap. You should've seen the look on that woman's face. Karen just giggled as I introduced myself and extended my hand. The cutie's face turned sour just before she excused herself.

"Dang, Nieca, one day you are going to cause an incident." Karen laughed.

As I sat in the chair next to Karen, I laughed. We left after we finished our drinks; it was around two in the morning and the club was still packed. I was tired, so I drove straight home and stepped in the shower. I climbed into my pillow top, memory foam bed, falling fast asleep.