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I met Celia on Finder. My divorce was final, and just as I was ready to go out and spread some celebratory wild oats, Covid 19 came to America. So I freed myself exactly when I couldn't celebrate my freedom. So I read. I wrote. I chatted. I invested in sex toys until the day came when I entered House Moderna and felt like I could go out and expose myself to the world. So I downloaded*Finder, wrote up a profile, uploaded a carefully selected (optional) picture, and waited to see what would happen.*Finder's*deal was that if you liked someone, you swiped right on their profile. If two people swiped right on each other, a message window opened for them. My profile was pretty conventional.*?Divorced, actively bisexual white geek girl who loves movies, music, and books seeks a regular dance partner. . .?*There was other stuff, but that catches the gist of it. Pretty conventional and I wasn't entirely happy with it, but couldn't bring myself to risk any more.Celia caught my eye, precisely because her profile was everything mine was not.*?Gay white female seeks future ex-girlfriend. No walks in the park or foreign art movies. Gin with Gingers is my goal.?*I had to read it twice. And I smiled the whole time. Celia's picture showed a brassy girl with short, dark brown hair, big wire-rimmed glasses, and a toothy grin. She had shown a sense of humor. I liked the way she looked; I swiped right.*The message window opened. Given her chutzpah in her profile, the least I could do was fight back.**?Dear Celia. I have a lot to recommend me as your future ex-girlfriend. I'm recently divorced and left my ex unmutilated. If I left Him*relatively unmarked, odds are You will survive dating me with most of your limbs intact. But you won't have trouble finding reasons to flee.*I read too much, am opinionated, and will always be pestering you for sex. *Why Wait?*Let's blow past the goo-goo-eyed stage and*race*directly for*disillusionment.?*I plinked that off at lunch, had a brief panic after hitting SEND, but it was done so I went back to work. By the time I got off, her reply came back.**?Dear Donna. I can't tell you how disappointed I am that you left your ex intact. Generally, men are better off without one or two of their appendages. The small ones in particular. It calms them. But I am intrigued . . . Celia.?So I sat in my car reading that and chuckled. Celia was clearly out there. I liked that.*?Dear Celia, I know how you feel but my legal staff advised me I*need an airtight alibi if I wished to evade justice.**Still, many women's prison movies suggest that romance is possible behind prison bars. Particularly if you are into BDSM and Linda Blair. But how in the world would I smuggle in my magic wand? Donna.?*I clicked send before I drove home.*I didn't hear anything until late, right as I was getting ready for bed.*?Dear Donna. You really need to understand the first rule about getting sex toys in jail. You carve them out of soap or go down on a prison guard. Granted, Beefy Guards aren't my type, but being bisexual you are likely more flexible. And you could draw Sybil Danning. Kisses, Celia.?This went on for about a week with an average of two messages exchanged a day. The joking slowed as we began to exchange more details about each other's lives. She almanbahis was younger than me, in her mid-twenties. She worked as a ?Coach? at a national sportswear chain. I asked if that gave her shower privileges. She asked me if I used my company laptop to watch porn.*I told her I did, in fact, write smut. But not on the company laptop.She scoffed and said she thought me too dainty for that.*I sent her a link to a story I'd written. And didn't hear from her immediately. Then it was one word.**?Wow. You were serious.?About an hour later, she sent,*?I'm off this Saturday, Want to get dinner and prove*you're as strange as I hope you are??We made a date to meet at a taco place we*both liked in a neighborhood full of clubs. I had myself waxed, got a haircut, a pedicure, and a new button-up sleeveless white cotton top with a collar. I dressed, did my makeup carefully, and opened my nightstand to get my jewelry box, and also found*my collection of butt plugs.*I know what you're thinking. Who wears a butt plug to a first date? It's not my usual habit on any date. The Angelic Good Donna in my head*argued exactly that in sweet dulcet tones that went well with the sound of plucking harps.*Devil Donna interrupted good me to a soundtrack of Harleys and cranked up Marshall amplifiers.**?Who plugs on their first date? Girls who haven't gotten laid in over a year, that's who! If she's a future ex-girlfriend, can you really afford to waste time? Girl, you know she's strange. Get some before she's gone!?I reached into the drawer, pulled out my smallest plug and my tube of lube. I felt myself dripping as I pressed the lubricated tip to my pucker, pushing and releasing, pushing and releasing, letting the lube work into my pucker before bearing down and taking it deep. It had been a long time, and it felt huge in my bottom as my sphincter squeezed and held it tight in place. I gasped, my pussy contracting in time with my ass, and I almost rubbed my finger on my now wet cunt. But then I decided to save myself for the sport I was dressing for.I put on a purple thong to match the amethyst that decorated the jewel of my plug. A very short tartan skirt, with my new white blouse and suspenders to keep my skirt in the right place. No bra. I'm cute, but not big-breasted. I learned long ago how a tight, thin top was all I ever needed to draw the eye. I clipped a bow tie on the collar, topped off with my best 1960s era horn-rimmed glasses. Summer made it too hot for stockings, but sandals with low heels completed the package. I looked in the mirror and I saw a smoking hot geek chick.*I googled the restaurant, checked the time, and headed out the door.*I got there early, but Celia was already there. She was sitting in the corner and her eyes got big and her mouth fell open as I approached, which made me feel really good. She stood up and planted a wet kiss on my hand.*I was every bit as smitten*with her as she seemed to be with me. Celia was nearly six feet tall. I have nice curves but*Celia was ripe with curves, her body firm and full-breasted. She wore a halter and black shorts which showed off very supple legs. She wore minimal makeup but was very pretty with fake pearl earrings and a simple cross hanging from her neck. I bore down on my plugged bottom as almanbahis yeni giriş I looked at her.*?Hi,? I said and sat down, calming my jets. Celia definitely appealed to me. She ordered us margaritas, and while I like to order for myself, it was margaritas at a taco place. What could be more natural?*?You put the G-G-G in Geek,? she said. ?I am duly impressed.??Me too,? I said. ?It took real courage to put that ad out there. I can't imagine some of the responses you got.??Well, it helps that I'm a lesbian,? she said. ?Men can't see my ad. I can't imagine the responses you get from the men who see your ad.??Well, a bunch want to know if I'm into*threesomes,? I admitted. ?Which makes it really easy to swipe left on them.?*?Ahhh,? she said. ?It was wily of you to set a trap like that for them. Few men can control themselves in the presence of a Hot Bi Babe.??Some of them escaped my snare,? I said. ?But none so far have really stood out. You, on the other hand, offer the promise of a brief yet torrid affair.?*quot;Oh, I'm all about torrid,? she said with a wicked smile and a look in my eyes. ?And I'm out with a cute pornographer. *Really, what could suggest kink more than that??We talked a lot. I'd graduated from State, her from Tech. She was a theater major who worked but not for much money and took the retail job as*starvation was not an option. I talked about my office work, how I was moving up and felt I might have a career. And then I mentioned my writing.*?Oh, yes. That story you shared with me. Would you by chance have more? I've fallen behind on my weekly masturbation schedule and I think your words will help me catch up.?I cracked up. *quot;Of course, if*masturbation is really what you want out of tonight.*quot;She stopped cold for just a few tenths of a second, then grinned at me. Her eyes smoldered.**quot;Well, I have been doing a number of solo performances since Covid-19 hit. But I am willing to branch out with the right girl.*quot;*She smiled at me and we talked. And we had a great time. And as the meal continued, I suggested we go dancing. I knew a gay-friendly club around the corner and hoped she would be interested.*?A wonderful idea,? she said, looking me directly in the eyes. ?And I would go if*I hadn't made a promise to some friends that I would meet them tonight at about this time, in order to give me a truthful*excuse to back out if you proved trollish. As*you are anything but a troll, I would like you to come and meet them so they can memorize your description. A precaution, in case I disappear. For some reason, they are protective of me and feel the need to pass judgment.??Okay.? I wasn't sure I was into that. I mean, I was out for*her, and I hadn't made any alternative plans beyond arranging a call I could use to feign an emergency if Celia proved a disaster. But I had no plans to use it, and frankly, if she was this funny, her friends might be too. I agreed. I could use some new friends. I'd lost a bunch in my divorce.*We paid our checks and headed down the street to an Irish pub. She laced her fingers in mine as we entered. ?Because I want everyone to know you're with me,? she said, then kissed me softly. It wasn't an intense kiss, but my toes felt it and it meant she liked me as much as I liked her.Celia had three friends almanbahis giriş waiting for her. Peter and Paula were a couple ? tall, very attractive, and clean-cut who probably worked at an office. Griffin was scruffier,*an electrician in a Primus t-shirt with long hair and a beard. They rose to greet me as Celia introduced me, ?This is my pornographer friend Donna.?I turned red as a beet and almost left, but Celia leaned into me to wrap her arm around my beltline and pull me close.*Paula's eyes got really big. ?Do you make movies???No darling, she's a writer,? Celia pressed her boobs into my arm. ?And she's just as arousing in person as she is on the printed page.??I didn't know pornos had writers,? said Griffin, offering his hand and an honest smile. The twinkle in his eye told me he was messing with me.?They really do ask for a bit more than 'Wanna fuck?',? I answered.?Well, sorry you aren't in movies because I could use a new career,? he said with a wink, waving the bartender over. A very fit young blonde man arrived. ?A round of shots for the five of us,? he said.*And we plopped down, together with Griffin on my right and the Ps to Celia's left.?This is Dustin,? Peter said, introducing our bartender*as bourbon shots arrived.*?Duckston,? said Celia, with a bad faux English accent. ?Is your last name Farnsbury? Do you have an estate???I think if I had an estate,? Duckston said, because that was now his name to us, ?I wouldn't be tending bar.?Celia wasn't about to back off in the face of logic.*?Oh yes, you would,? she said, *quot;Duckston, you serve us drinks*for the chicks!*And the opportunity to witness hot lesbian kissing.?Celia pulled me tight and pressed her lips to mine. They were soft and full, and she moaned softly as our lips rubbed together and she pressed her tongue between my lips. I was kinda shocked, but her kiss had a real passion to it. My arms wrapped around her, and then we gave them all a good snog. When we broke the kiss, Dustin, I mean Duckston, was standing there with his jaw open in a shocked grin. I was tingling and more than a little aware of the plug riding in my ass.*Celia was nonplussed. ?Surely seeing that was worth a little menial labor, eh little Lord Farnsworth.?*He blushed. We laughed and white wine was set in front of me. It was sweet and warm and my fingers found Celia's bottom, which she wiggled to push against me. Another shot appeared and people told jokes. The jukebox switched from Steely Dan to U2 to Foo Fighters to Julien Baker. Celia's fingers were squeezing my bottom now and pressing tight. *We'd been there for a very quick hour when she grabbed her phone. She clicked a bit, then leaned in close to*announce*with a lick of my left ear,**?I just summoned us an Uber. I'm taking you home.?She kissed me again, hard, and her tongue pressed deep into my mouth. I could feel her full breasts pressing against mine. *She felt so soft and primally female. I decided to push her so shoved my tongue deep into Celia's mouth. I heard people whistling in the background. At that moment I just didn't care; I just plastered my lips to her and let them enjoy the show. I liked it; I liked knowing that almost every eye in the room was on us, on me. I imagined the*cocks that were swelling and pussies moistening because Celia and I were getting it on. If there were a few prigs who thought public displays of homosexual passion were verboten,*Fuck 'em!*I cared about the here and now. I cared about the strawberry flavor of*Celia's delicious lips.*