Rosemarie's Revenge

Rosemarie glanced over at her newly trained coworker. She had felt a sense of familiarity as soon as she was introduced to the woman, but couldn’t place it at first. Then one day it hit her out of the blue—this was the woman who had been interested in her nearly thirty years ago when they lived in the same apartment complex. When Rosemarie realized that McKenna didn’t know who she was, she almost told her—until she thought better of it. She wasn’t sure why she bit her tongue. She didn’t care that the revelation would probably embarrass McKenna. Maybe she just liked knowing things other people didn’t—things that could be used to her advantage if needed. It was in the past, and McKenna certainly wasn’t going to find her attractive now, was she? The truth was, Rosemarie had been attracted to McKenna as well, though she never got the chance to share that fact. Rick had been the problem—he and other things. Due to a strict religious upbringing, Rosemarie had kept her occasional attraction to women to herself. Then one day, she dared to open up to Rick after McKenna had been brave enough to confess her attraction to her. Not that she and Rick had ever discussed threesomes, orgies, or swinging, but Rick seemed more intrigued by the idea than she expected. Rosemarie didn’t want to have a threesome with McKenna, though. She didn’t like the idea of sharing Rick, regardless of how controlling and even abusive he could be. She didn’t want to leave Rick at the time, but she did want to experiment a little before settling down and considering marriage. Rick wouldn’t hear of it. While she wasn’t allowed to even look at another man, she could have a woman, as long as she brought her home so he could watch and maybe even videotape the encounter. Rosemarie was both pissed and frustrated. Rick had denied her something she’d always been curious about, and McKenna was extremely good-looking. How often would she meet an attractive, feminine lesbian? She had no choice but to go along with what Rick wanted. He would probably beat the crap out of her if she went behind his back. He smothered her every moment they weren’t working. Her friends told her she deserved better than Rick and should leave him, live her own life, not the one he ordered her to live. She had taken her anger out on McKenna. She knew it was wrong, but it felt so good to let all that bottled-up frustration out. Sometimes her actions didn’t match her logic. She knew the fights she and Rick had over McKenna weren’t McKenna’s fault. Yet she still felt resentment toward her and, even now, wanted to jump up and slap the bitch. No, McKenna hadn’t intentionally broken up their relationship—which had ultimately been a good thing for Rosemarie—but she still blamed her for those fights. McKenna was probably the only person in the world she wanted to beat the shit out of and touch, taste, explore, and know, even after nearly three decades. Now fifty-four, she still had yet to be with a woman. She’d spent most of her years single. She wasn’t a very trusting person, and she knew she could be a bitch at times, which turned off most men. With her phone silent and no one at the desk, Rosemarie casually swiveled her chair to look at McKenna. McKenna’s back was facing her as she took a cancellation call. “Would you like me to reschedule you?” McKenna asked. Rosemarie’s eyes roamed her backside. She hadn’t gained much middle-aged weight, if any, and was still beautiful—deep blue eyes, long auburn hair, creamy white skin. They were about the same height but opposites in appearance. Rosemarie was dark all around—dark eyes, dark hair, tanned skin. She continued to gaze with both desire and resentment until McKenna hung up and turned toward her. Rosemarie quickly turned back around.