Lickin' License by Intelligent Allah Page A

Vanessa said, getting up.
    “It's always good, ain't it?”
    “Yeah. Now I'm ready for some dick.” Vanessa giggled.
    “Good for you.”
    “You don't know what you're missing, girl.”
    “I'm eight years older than you, Vanessa. When you was humping boys in the school staircase, I was in bed with grown men.”
    “But you admitted that a man never made you cum with his dick.”
    Candy reflected on that reality. She had often flaunted it as a justification for why she began experimenting with women. She had only experienced orgasms from men through oral sex. There were times when she had wondered if her body was somehow sexually dysfunctional. She eventually realized that she was simply involved with minute men, inexperienced guys and selfish sex partners. So with that curse, and the pain of losing the only man she had ever loved, Candy took a shot at the world of women.
    “I've got the best of both worlds,” Vanessa said. “What more could you ask for?”
    Candy noticed the clock on her wall. She had an appointment in two hours with a representative from SCORE. They were scheduled to discuss her business idea. “I gotta go take care of this business,” Candy said.
    “The meeting Leah set up for you?”
    “Yeah.”
    “She might as well be your business partner,” Vanessa said.
    “She has been helping me a lot.”
    “She gave you the business idea and pretty much rewrote your business plan from just a few ideas you had.”
    “That's why I like her. She's professional and that’s why I let her run the shop when I'm not around. She's about her business and pretty quiet.”
    “Sneaky,” Vanessa said.
    Candy assumed Vanessa was critical of Leah because Leah was known to get on Candy about her love for younger women. Candy wondered about Leah's comments sometimes. But Leah had been consistent in helping her. Plus Leah was the most respectful woman in the shop. It was Chanel's jealousy of Vanessa that Candy hoped would not cause a problem in the future.
    * * *
    After showering and getting dressed, Candy stepped outside, jumped into her BMW and started the engine. As she was about to pull off, she thought of Vanessa and all the praise that she gave Rich. Although Candy didn’t feel there was a competition between her and Rich, she felt that Rich did not deserve to be worshiped. Not just by Vanessa, but by any of the countless women that put him on a pedestal. No man deserved such treatment in Candy's eyes.
    Candy drove downtown and walked into the building that housed the Small Business Administration. She took in the ogling eyes of men who stared at her as she stepped through the building. The Yves Saint Laurent business suit she wore highlighted her sexuality with an aura of professionalism. One man flirted with her, walking beside her, saying all the right things that would have impressed her years ago. Candy brushed him off with a lie about her being in a relationship.
    “That's not a problem for me,” he countered.
    Candy flashed a smile as the elevator door opened. She stepped inside, leaving the man behind. He was fine. Candy had never ridded herself of the ability to recognize handsome men. Occasionally, she even felt her heart flutter or that tingling sensation between her legs when she saw a man's bare chest or a bulge in his pants. But her days of acting off her impulses were over. She had developed a level of discipline that countered the control men had once wielded over her.
    Once Candy stepped off the elevator, she spoke to a receptionist, who directed her to the office of the SCORE representative she came to see. Candy walked into his office and introduced herself.
    “I'm David Rosenberg,” the aging Jewish man responded with an inviting smile. He adjusted his glasses and sat in his leather executive chair.
    “It's good to finally meet you,” Candy said.
    “Likewise. Have a seat,” he instructed her.
    Candy sat in the chair in front of his redwood desk. She began expounding on her proposed