Sapphic Shorts

Sapphic Shorts by Stormy Knight

1 - Summer Love: Of Crickets and Crescent Moons 2 - Dramatic Encounter 3 - Somewhere, Today 4 - Service With A Smile Contents © 2013 Stormy Knight. Published by Violet Haze • Bucks County, Pennsylvania. All rights reserved except for reasonable excerpts for review purposes only.

“Breathing heavily now, she slid the rest of the way out of her duster. Its oilcloth smell had always incited thoughts of lust within her (Why not? Everything else did...) and did not fail to do its duty now. But this time, she was going to share that feeling with another. “She rose silently and moved into the seat next to the bold temptress in the corner. Without a word, she moved the woman’s hand away from her crotch and replaced it with her own. She began rubbing, softly at first, then more quickly, insistently. The only indication of her successful venture was a soft moan that escaped the woman’s lips before she pulled her down to muffle it with her own mouth.”

Summer Love: Of Crickets and Crescent Moons Autumn. This time of year has always appealed to me in a melancholy sort of way; the welcome end of the loud and relentless tourist season in our resort town, of the mad dashes to enforced fun, those canned experiences we call vacations, and a return to the sanity of a slower pace of life. Such were my musings on a particular early autumn day not long ago. Accompanying these thoughts was the sad knowledge of twin truths that came with the end of summer: that within weeks, it would be too cold to swim in the deep, clear lakes anymore; and that the canoe would once again be hoisted on its rack and turned upside-down for another long season in storage. As the shadows lengthen again, with the sun drawing nearer the equinox every day, I am moved to look back over so many summers that have gone before. It was during another reverie like this—a summer one—that I had seen Them for the first time. I had sat, nestled into a Quaker-style wooden bench, on the front porch of a charming little restaurant that had recently opened in the small, northern tourist town where I worked. It had already become my favorite spot—an oasis of quiet, cultured comfort amidst a riot of shamelessly tacky sportsman’s bars, run-down resorts and overpriced tourist traps. I was savoring the turkey-and-Swiss salad on croissant that was my lunch, enjoying the glint of early June light bathing the lawn, when They appeared from around a corner. They were two teenage girls—fourteen, maybe fifteen—all arms and legs and long hair, in that impossibly gangly period between puberty and adolescence when life looms long and large and just a little frightening ahead. One was a brunette, drowning in a too-big tee shirt and frayed jean shorts that surrounded her thin legs like lengths of culvert pipe around saplings. The other was a dishwater blond, dusted with freckles and sporting a deep tan that contrasted sharply with her white tank top and cut-off sweats. They were walking together in that way teenage girls do—too close together, steps out of sync,

heads very close to allow the ever-present stream of conversation about everything and nothing—so that they bump into each other every so often, then act surprised and laugh. Their rubber flip-flops kerplopped on the hot pavement as they quirked and bobbed along, whispering conspiratorially and giggling. Something caught in my chest at the sight of them… a sparkling, a remembered ache. So many summers ago, I had ker-plopped along in my own ragged, carefree summer attire, crashing happily and without apology into my own best friend… and first true love. We had not spoken then of what I had felt, even though we had often told each other, “I love you.” After all, we were fast friends who spent endless hours together; in school, as locker partners, sitting together at lunch, in study hall, playing in the band; and out, at each other’s houses, on sleepovers, double dates with our boyfriends, and at many church youth group functions. But the feelings were there, and ran deep. There was nothing we wouldn’t have done for each other, and we lived in the golden warmth of that security all the time. That I knew in my bones there was something else going on besides friendship was my own, closely guarded secret. As I watched those girls the first time, I wondered how close they really were. Did they share long, secret conversations between the setting and rising of the sun, snuggled deep into soft sleeping bags, in the safe embrace of a musty pup tent? Had they shared confidences entrusted only to best friends, made promises about things only they could know? Had they, as we had, “practiced” hugging and kissing so they wouldn’t be embarrassed by their inexperience “when it really counted?” Did they lie, legs entangled, giddy with sleeplessness, on nights commanded by crickets and the crescent moon? Were their words sometimes silenced by a rush of feeling that neither understood, as they shivered in the moonlight while waves lapped the shore after a midnight swim? Who had been the first to suggest that skinny-dipping would be more fun than wearing suits? Was it the same one who lay awake longer, frightened that she might roll over in her sleep and touch a forbidden place, or say something that would require explanation in the light of day?

By the time I had finished these musings on my own coldwater morning, they had disappeared from sight, heading for those experiences only summer can bring. I continued to think of them, on and off, throughout the rest of the tourist season. I even saw them again once or twice, twittering away as they slid through the glass doors of the supermarket, or remarking too loudly about some fashion crime they had witnessed. But on that autumn day as I ate my lunch, I knew they had headed back south, like the geese that would soon follow them. Where did they go? Did they live near each other, or were they only summer friends? And what new experiences had they wrested from the warm months, while the whippoorwill sang and the cicadas trilled long into the night? In my mind, they returned together to their mutual hometown, eyeing each other shyly in the back seat while their parents babbled away, clueless, in the front. Pretending to be chilled, they pulled a light blanket over themselves so they could secretly hold hands beneath it, no one else aware of the thundering emotions that had awakened in them during the last summer storm over the lake.

Dramatic Encounter Unable to sleep, she pulled on her full-length, oilskin duster, the one she’d fallen in love with when she’d first seen it on that windblown beauty that hot, mercilessly bright day in the Australian outback. Now it was hers, a gift from that same tanned, blonde sheila. A thank-you gift, the hot thing had said, as she ran her eyes once more over this one's lanky frame, that goosebump-inducing smile pulling up one corner of her mouth. After a few long seconds, she'd pulled her mirrored aviators down over her eyes, kickstarted her vintage Indian, and given a slow nod. The darker beauty had watched the sun backlight her golden locks as they splayed out behind her in the early morning light. Now the coat was hers, and she smiled with the memory as she ran her fingers over the black, waxed cotton of its rain fly, flicking a piece of dust from her shoulder. She flipped up the collar, locked the door behind her and stepped out into the inky, filmy night enveloping the small town. Miraculously, there was a late-night flick playing at the tiny local theater, within easy walking distance. She paid for her ticket, ignoring the stares from the young girls behind the popcorn counter. Must’ve been the hair, freshly slicked back after a quick romp with her favorite vibrator. Or maybe it was that lingering aroma… Feeling the buzz begin to creep up from those last few bong hits before she left, she savored the slow quivering that crept between her legs. It wrapped itself around her thighs, tightening its grip on that oh-so-sensitive area. She noted an interesting-looking woman sitting at the end of the back row, and chose the seat on the opposite end, by the aisle, for herself. The woman was just her type: dark hair—the Aussie blonde had been an anomaly—dark clothes, black leather jacket still on even though she’d obviously been in the theater long enough to have settled in. Best of all, the woman was plainly more interested in her than in whatever was playing on the screen. Slouching into her seat, copping an attitude, she turned and blatantly stared at the dark woman.

Even in the dim light, it was obvious she was a looker. To her surprise, the woman not only stared back, but swiveled her entire torso around in the seat, almost facing her. Immediate heat emanated from her crotch—no mistaking that reaction. She matched the boldness of this move by pulling aside the front of the duster and sticking her hand into her black button-down. Reaching inside, she felt the slightly raised surface of the new tattoo over her left breast. It still felt good, reminded her of the last good fuck she'd had, reminded her that the words it carved forever into her body were indeed true. Along with this Wild Heart, she carried a libido to match. And she had every intention of letting that electric creature in the corner know it. Of all the places to meet another adventurous leather girl, this was the last she’d expected. But Providence won’t be questioned, so she skipped the formalities and got down to business. Squeezing her own breast, she let her head drop backward to indicate her pleasure at her own touch. When she looked over again, she was pleased and surprised to see the dark woman’s hand in her own crotch, caressing herself in a circular motion, appearing slightly jumpy in the flickering light from the screen. Breathing heavily now, she slid the rest of the way out of her duster. Its oilcloth smell had always incited thoughts of lust within her (Why not? Everything else did...) and did not fail to do its duty now. But this time, she was going to share that feeling with another. She rose silently and moved into the seat next to the bold temptress in the corner. Without a word, she moved the woman’s hand away from her crotch and replaced it with her own. She began rubbing, softly at first, then more quickly, insistently. The only indication of her successful venture was a soft moan that escaped the woman’s lips before she pulled her down to muffle it with her own mouth. After an eternity of tongue play, both women became wild, hands groping under shirts, pulling the hair at their necks’ napes, feeling for some mound of flesh that beckoned. If anyone was watching or was even there to watch, there was no indication, but the possibility still excited. They began to sweat in tandem. Duster woman returned to her work at Leather woman’s crotch, this time undoing the studded

belt and easy zipper that imprisoned the object of her most compelling desire. She pulled at the flaps of the unzipped black jeans, inhaled deeply of the musk that escaped. Leather woman slid to the edge of the seat, facilitating removal of the jeans to a place around her knees. An exchange of words ensued, too filthy to be repeated, and soon the woman in the duster was on her knees between the legs of the leather girl, giving her what she demanded: a tongue-lashing that only a tortured soul could love, biting and pulling that would have broken a lesser quarry. Knees sticking to the gum-and-soda-strewn floor, the duster girl lapped and chewed her way into the leather girl’s heart, and only a firm yank at her hair told her it was time to move on to a less distracting venue. Unbridled lust such as this was not to be wasted on someone half-paying attention, and the leather girl was most assuredly interested in a sharper focus. Quickly, without looking at each other, the two got themselves presentable and made their way back to the lobby. The girls behind the popcorn counter stared again, obviously noticing the two who had come in alone leaving together, before the end of the show, flushed and showing signs of having been otherwise occupied in the theater. Duster woman couldn’t resist. She looked directly at them, smiled wickedly, and ran her tongue along her bottom lip. The looks on their faces were priceless. Leather girl, noticing everything, smiled and pushed open the glass door with her boot, never removing her hands from her pockets. The unmistakable odor of sex wafted in their wake as they slid out into the liquid dark, gliding along on the lightheaded streets of a night still deeply entrenched, not yet willing to give itself up to the dawn.

Somewhere, Today

A thin sweat had already formed on Teddy’s upper lip as she pulled her Samurai into the gravel drive of the hulking old farmhouse. The day could have claimed sultriness but for a soft breeze floating in from the northwest. It will have to settle for just plain hot and leave it at that, she thought, swinging her bucket full of cleaning supplies out of the passenger side. Robin, her longtime friend and current housemate, had assured her this cleaning gig would be easy; just some dusting, wiping and a bit of sweeping here and there for a couple old ladies and their cats. Teddy was glad not just for the extra cash, but for the excuse to fill a few hours of the weekend with something other than thoughts of Mara. The high, white June light reminded her that three months had already passed since Mara had left. Still, she woke daily with her hand betraying its groping on the far side of the bed, seeking the warmth of a body that had long since moved on to another mattress where it would leave that extended, almost diagonal indentation. Teddy clunked up the back steps, which were bare of paint and worn to roundness on the edges by generations of rural feet. She tried to shake the remnants of Mara from her head. She felt above the porch light’s Mason jar globe, finding the back door key where Robin had said it would be. She fingered its cool smoothness, pleased with the heft of the tubular steel and the lines of the old skeleton key design. It fit with the atmosphere of the whole place: simple, unassuming, quietly ornamental. Pushing open the heavy wood door, she looked around at the mostly white, large yet cozy room. It was the epitome of a country farm kitchen; old wood-and-gas iron stove on legs, a small woodbin next to the firebox, and huge double sink of the kind of rounded white porcelain that had always reminded her of some large egg—mostly smooth, but lightly pocked from too many scrubbings. Friendly sunlight streamed through the ruffled white curtains to spotlight an armless rocking chair. She imagined the two old women here on a Sunday morning, one reading the paper while the

other stirred oatmeal or flipped pancakes on the griddle. The smell of woodsmoke mingling with hickory-cured bacon and fresh bread toasting. The aroma of coffee bubbling in a real coffee pot on the stove. The rhythmic, even creaking of the rocker as it moved slowly back and forth. The contented sounds of two people long in love and still together. As she straightened up the wood bench near the door, gathering up old newspapers and dusting, she wondered if it were still possible; if two young people in this cynical world might be able to find enough time to really know each other. To learn one another’s little quirks and work around them till they found that groove where, even when the edges knocked together, it didn’t really matter because, like the steps outside, they had been rounded by years of wear and tolerance and sticking close in hard times. She thought of Mara’s sweet glances across their own kitchen, ages ago. She tried but couldn’t blink away those deep, searching eyes and instead found herself blinking back tears. She shuffled to the table, wiping away crumbs from the last toast that had been shared there, watching them drop into her cupped hand. Emptying them into the trash can, she began on the counter, swiping past two State Fair tickets paper-clipped to a 4-H program, a pair of gardening gloves and a half-gone pack of Wrigley’s Spearmint. A pair of sunglasses rested on a snapshot of who she supposed must be the homeowners. One was seated proudly astride an antique John Deere field tractor. The other stood on its fender, one hand around the gardening gloves, the other resting on her partner’s shoulder. The connection between them was unmistakable: There was an ease, a naturalness to the gesture that was not at all posed or selfconscious. Their genuine smiles told the story of a love that had endured through the experiences that had lined both their faces. Teddy’s breath caught ragged in her throat, unable to pass the lump that had formed there. She felt the hot tracks of more tears as they now made their way unimpeded down her cheeks. Vision blurred, she put the photo back on the counter and made her way into a small parlor on the side of the

house. Could such a love as that begin now, or was it—like so much of what she had seen and desired —only a relic of another age, when people’s lives were defined more by what they had in common than by what held them apart? No, that must be it. There just wasn’t time now for the nurturing of real relationships. People had too many places they had to be, too many things that needed to be done just to get by, too many responsibilities to other situations and not enough energy to devote to each other. Love, in the end, must just be too much to expect in this fractured and demanding age. The hardness of this thought plagued her, weighted her down, stifled her breathing again. Its cruelty overwhelmed, weakening her with its jagged reality. She crumpled onto the edge of an inviting couch. After a few moments, her sobbing subsided and she wiped her face on her sleeve. Love, she knew then, was a figment; a story we tell ourselves so we can get to sleep at night, something to believe in because we must believe in something. It wasn't real, didn’t exist anywhere but in our pathetic imaginations. As the though hardened in her mind, she felt her jaw clench and set. She stared out the picture window, not really seeing the farmyard on the other side of the glass. A motion at the far end of the room caught her attention. She watched as an ancient tabby made its obviously painful way across the worn oriental rug, then sat staring up at the far couch cushion. After several moments of contemplation, the cat gathered its strength and more lurched than jumped up onto the cushion. It was a pitiful sight, and Teddy’s own misery made her feel a kinship with this waning creature. She wondered if this was how she would end up: hurting and alone and trying just to make it through her days till there were no more to get through. The tabby made a few motions as if to clean itself, but it must have been an exhausting effort, as the cat soon left off and had to content herself with staring out the window at a world that was leaving her behind. Suddenly, a younger and more spry cat, a mottled gray tiger with wise green eyes, alighted on the cushion next to the tabby. It surprised Teddy. She hadn’t even heard him approach. He sniffed around the tabby, checking out where she’d been and learning her day’s story. She

was unperturbed by his querying nose, even exerting herself to lightly sniff his snout. Satisfied that nothing was amiss, she went back to window gazing. He sat for a brief moment, his wide, round eyes blinking slowly at Teddy, then turned to look intently at his fellow feline. He leaned in close and began to lick her fur. He started at the back of her head, running its hair through the little barbs of his tongue with long, luxurious strokes. Proceeding to her lower neck and shoulders, he groomed his friend patiently and thoroughly, taking care to reach all the spots she no longer could. The tabby had closed her eyes in bliss, and was opening and closing her front paws in measured delight. Teddy had seen this before with her own cats, but only in brief stretches as a prelude to play or a wrestling session. But this grooming was different. It was not a tease or a taunt. This was focused, concentrated effort on the part of the green-eyed tiger to care for his companion. His pace was steady, never slacking, not too fast or too slow. His own countenance revealed contentment, now mirrored in the audible purr of the tabby. The sunlight had moved around to cast a beam upon this sweet tableau. Teddy watched without moving, the poignancy of the image holding her fast. Her eyes welled again, but this time with gratitude. She couldn’t remember having sent a prayer for reassurance, but an answer had come, nevertheless. As the tiger nestled down against his now-dozing old friend, Teddy gathered herself and rose to finish her work. She could go on. There was love somewhere…here, today.

Service With a Smile

Lynn felt a violent tug and yanked the steering wheel hard to the left. When the car finally ground to a halt, she found herself in the ditch, wondering what the hell had happened. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she opened the door and slid out onto the grassy embankment. To her horror, the right front tire was gone—nowhere in sight—and the axle had dug into the soft earth, an ugly brown scar trailing behind it. “That BASTARD!” she cried. Pulling a loose strand of auburn hair from the corner of her mouth, she stared in disbelief at the bent axle. “Shit!” There was nothing she could do but get herself to the meeting and then back home where she would be able to take care of this mess. She got back in the car, grabbed her cell phone from the dash and punched in a number. After an interminable wait, a disaffected male voice on the other end declared, “Tiny’s Service.” “Well, I hope the service isn’t as tiny as the attention paid to the phone over there,” she snipped. There was no reply, so she continued. “This is Lynn Tillis, and I need to have a badly disabled car towed from the interstate, in a hurry. I’m on my way to a very important meeting.” The voice was hesitant. “Well, ah, Miz Tillis, that might be something of a problem. See, we only got me and the mechanic on duty today and things are pretty busy, and…” ” Look, um… what’s your name?” ” Jerry.” “Well, look, Jerry. I have a meeting with a client in half an hour to close a deal on a halfmillion-dollar home I’ve been trying to unload for a year. You might be interested to know that my hu…ex-husband is David Tillis, of BlastMaster? He has his entire fleet of vehicles maintained by your establishment. This appointment is very important to me, and if I don’t get a tow in the next fifteen minutes, it is entirely likely that Tiny’s will become even more so immediately. Do you catch my

drift?” Lynn didn’t like to pull strings, and it especially galled her to have to bring David into this; but it was a crucial sale, and she wasn’t about to lose it because some dimwit service station attendant felt someone else’s tune-up was more important. Jerry hesitated again. “Yeah, I, uh…understand, Miz Tillis. It’s just that someone’s gotta stay here and man the pumps and…” “Jerry, you can explain this all to Tiny when he comes in. I’m sure it’ll be much easier to explain a late lube job than the loss of BlastMaster’s maintenance contract, wouldn’t you agree?” “Yeah…yeah, all right. Look, I’ll send the mechanic in a few minutes. Where exactly are you?” Lynn breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, that’s what I want to hear!” She gave him her location and hung up. Now, to think of a way to get to Deerwood Place before the Lindahls did. She punched up the keypad again, this time reaching the home office. Her best friend and close associate picked up. “Barb! God, am I glad it’s you. I’ve just had a little accident…No, it’s nothing serious. Just that David never had that wobble on the front tire fixed like he’d promised, and now the damn thing’s laying somewhere out in the middle of the Beltway! Yes! Anyway, I’m on my way to closing the deal with the Lindahls on that Deerwood place, and they’ll probably be there any time now. I don’t want them to get there before I do. Could you come? Oh. No, I understand, really. No, it’s okay. You can’t keep Jeff waiting, either. No, don’t worry about it. If I have to, I’ll call a cab. Thank God for technology, huh? Thanks anyway. See you tomorrow. Okay.” She poked the End button on the iPhone screen with a vengeance. Damn it! Why now? She looked at her watch. Quarter to four. God, she’d never get a taxi—rush hour was starting. Well, she had to try. She Googled to find the cab company nearest her location, tapped the number on the screen and waited while the number rang. “Yeah, City Cab.” “Is there any possibility that I could get a cab to meet me out on the freeway?” she asked

hopefully. “Lady, this is the twenty-first century. Anything is possible! GM went bankrupt and Massachusetts elected a Republican senator!” Great. A political comedian. “Hey, I don’t have time for this, okay? I’m late for an extremely important meeting. Now, when could you get someone out here?” “Where ya at?” Again, Lynn gave coordinates for her whereabouts. “Oh, I’d say about twenty minutes, if traffic’s not backed up.” “Twenty minutes! I don’t have that much time! I… oh, forget it!” Lynn switched off the phone again, exasperated. She spun on her heel to sit back and think in the relative cool of the car when she spied a large, blue tow truck speeding toward her in the far right lane. It glided to a stop just behind her disabled Acura. The driver got out and jumped down from the running board to the hot concrete. Lynn was startled to see that underneath the dirty coveralls was an attractive young woman with a good tan, blond hair stuffed up under her baseball cap. She couldn’t help but smile at the woman’s confident gait and friendly expression. “You’re the mechanic?” Lynn blurted. “Yep. And I guess you’re Ms. Tillis,” the woman replied, with a smile of her own. “Yes. Yes, I am.” She glanced at her watch again nervously. “Oh, I am going to be so late.” “Meeting?” the woman asked. “Yes, a very important one. I’m closing a deal on a house.” “Oh, yeah,” the woman nodded knowingly. “My mom’s a real estate agent. I know all about those meetings. That explains why Jerry couldn't get me out that door fast enough.” She glanced back down the road in the direction from which she’d come. “Where is it?” Lynn replied, “Deerwood Place, up on…” “Shady Knoll Terrace. Yeah, I know that subdivision. When’s the meeting?”

“Four-thirty. And these people are punctual.” “Well then, you have no time to lose. How about I give you a ride there, then come back here and take care of your car? I mean, it’ll be a little more mileage on the truck you’d have to pay for, but at least you won’t miss your meeting. And if you have Triple A, that'll cover it anyway.” Lynn bit her lower lip and glanced at the truck, then back at the woman. “Oh, I know,” the mechanic assured, “It’s not exactly the image you try to project. I’ll just drop you off around the corner and you can walk to the house. Then I’ll come back and tow your car in, okay?” “Okay,” Lynn agreed, realizing that it was probably her only option. She smiled weakly. “What did you say your name was?” “I didn’t. But it’s Wendy.” She smiled back, and Lynn felt a bit less concerned. Wendy’s air of easy confidence had a calming effect on her. Wendy walked with Lynn to the passenger side and took her arm, helping her up into the cab. Lynn noticed that her hands were unexpectedly clean, and a bit red as though freshly scrubbed. Lynn enjoyed the smoothness with which she guided her through the door onto the high seat. She watched as Wendy walked around the front end and swung up into her own perch with practiced ease. Wendy turned the key and shifted into gear, signaling her entry into traffic, which was beginning to get heavy. When they came to the next exit, she pulled off the expressway. Lynn turned to her and asked nervously, “Are you sure you know where this is? I always go up to…” “Greenway. I normally would, too, but if we wait till that exit, we’re gonna hit all the traffic from the Compton factory up near Bellevue with the staggered shift change.” She kept her eyes on the road, and nodded toward the approaching lights. “If we hang a left at the signals up here, I can take the frontage road up to Marshland and we can cut through the subdivision right over to Shady Knoll, see?” She glanced over at Lynn, who was watching her with a bemused expression.

Wendy chuckled. “When you have to drive one of these babies around, you get to know all the shortcuts!” She slowed for the lights and signaled her turn. As the truck pulled up in front of the Lindahls’ future home, Lynn was relieved to see they hadn’t arrived ahead of her. “Alright! They’re not here yet…wonderful!” Wendy enjoyed her customer’s pleasure and flashed a beautiful set of teeth. “Cool! Then I’ll just drop you off here and you won’t have to walk.” Lynn fumbled for the door handle and Wendy laughed. “Oh, sorry about that. It’s busted. We get around to fixing everyone else’s trucks but our own.” She reached across Lynn’s lap and flipped what was left of the lever. Lynn felt the warmth of Wendy’s body across hers and as the door opened, was surprised to catch the scent of wild musk oil rising from the back of her neck. For just an instant, she felt something flutter in her chest, and blushed. Flustered, she began climbing out of the tall cab. “Wait a second!” Wendy insisted, and jumped out, running around to Lynn’s side. “Let me help you out. If you fall, my butt’s in trouble!” She took Lynn’s elbow firmly and eased her down to the tarmac. “Okay. Hey, how will you get back to the station then?” “Hadn’t thought about it. Well, I could call a cab from the house when we’re through…” “Never mind. How long do you think this meeting will take?” “Oh, probably about half an hour. The sale’s already made, for all practical purposes. We’re going to do our final dickering on details—you know, what comes with the house and all. Forty-five minutes, max. They have a plane to catch at seven, so they’re not going to want to stay.” “Okay. I’ll be back in forty-five minutes to pick you up.” “Really? What about what’s-his-name…Jerry? How will you get away again?” “Same tactics you used to get me away the first time—threats and intimidation.” She grinned. Lynn dropped her gaze, ashamed at having played the heavy, and laughed uncomfortably. Wendy noticed Lynn’s discomfort. “Don’t worry about it. Jerry’s an asshat, anyway. If I were

you, I’d have done the same thing. Have a good meeting, now.” She touched Lynn lightly on the elbow and smiled again, then turned and headed back to the truck. For some reason, Lynn had to watch her walk back and climb up again, swinging her strong, well-built frame onto the step in one fluid motion. Then she reminded herself of her reason for being here in the first place and strode purposefully toward the house. Just as she unlocked the door, the Lindahls pulled into the driveway. At ten after five, Lynn waved them off and tucked the signed offer into her briefcase. Pleased, she locked the door behind her and stood for a moment on the porch, scanning the road for any sign of the tow truck. It was nowhere in sight. She looked at her watch and realized that Wendy had said forty-five minutes, so she still had five minutes to wait. She felt awkward standing there on the porch, so she began to sit down on the top step when a black, late-model Mustang swung into the driveway. Lynn didn’t recognize the car or the driver, and squinted to get a better look. The car sat in the driveway and Lynn finally got up and walked over to it. She bent down to see the driver and realized that it was Wendy, looking nothing like she had less than an hour ago. Her coveralls had been replaced by a clean, button-down chambray shirt and nice jeans, and her hair was brushed and tumbled beautifully down her back. She gestured for Lynn to get in, which she did. “Big change from the other one, huh?” “Other one?” Lynn replied, thinking Wendy was referring to her other self, as if in the third person. “Yeah, this low-slung little machine, from that big monster!” “Oh, yes! Big change.” Lynn could not take her eyes off Wendy. She looked so different, so… feminine. Beautiful, really. Wendy noticed the stare and said, “I didn’t want to bring the truck back just in case the meeting went a little longer than you thought it would and your clients were still here. Wouldn’t look too cool,

you know?” She shifted into reverse and backed out of the drive. Lynn grinned. “That was very thoughtful of you, Wendy. I—” She reached over and touched Wendy on the sleeve. “I really do appreciate it.” “Aw, it’s okay. I was almost done with my shift anyway, and there was no way I was gonna finish that overhaul tonight, so I messed with Jerry’s head a little and got off early. He’s really afraid of you, y’know.” Lynn became uncomfortable again. “You know, Wendy, I don’t do that all the time, I mean throw my weight around like that. It’s just that I was really in a jam and this meeting was very important to me, and…” “Look, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m just the mechanic, okay? You are a customer and I’m just trying to take care of you like Jerry oughta but doesn’t have the sense to. People like him shouldn’t be managers, that’s all.” Wendy tightened her grip on the wheel and looked determinedly ahead. Lynn realized she’d hit a sore spot and, curious, pursued the subject. “You don’t like him, do you?” Wendy didn’t say anything right away, then looked over at Lynn. “Does it matter?” she asked. “Apparently it does to you.” ”Yeah. I mean, no. I mean, yeah, it matters, and no, I don’t like him. He’s a jerk. He’s too stupid to be a mechanic and too much of a bastard to be a good manager. But Tiny’s his brother and felt like he had to give him something to do. Tiny inherited the shop from their dad and kinda feels responsible for Jerry, since he’s the youngest. Tiny’s a good guy like that, but blinded by loyalty when it comes to Jerry. So I’ll always be a mechanic if I stay there.” “Does that bother you?” ”Yes and no. I mean, try and get a job as a mechanic somewhere else when you’re a woman. Good luck. And I really do like turnin’ wrenches. But I’d like to think that I’ll be recognized for being

good and have a chance to be promoted someday. Well, maybe someday I’ll just promote myself, and open my own garage.” Lynn smiled at that. She found Wendy’s spunk and determination both attractive and refreshing. Wendy was so unlike all the other women in Lynn’s life: insecure and manipulative, always ready to kowtow to the big chiefs (who were always men, it seemed) just to be recognized or to get ahead. Wendy seemed ready to build her own destiny, regardless of the powers that be. “Yes, I believe you will,” she said. As they pulled into the station, Jerry was just getting ready to leave. He saw them get out of the car and nodded in their direction as he counted the till. “Evenin’, ladies,” he intoned with the slightest sneer in his voice. “I’m just finishing up for the night shift, here. Todd’ll be in any time now. I’m goin’ to take Millie to the show tonight, so you can just hang out here till he comes, okay?” he decreed to Wendy. “Make up those few minutes I let you go early.” Wendy didn’t answer, just moved behind the counter and pulled out the clipboard to write up Lynn’s order. “I was on business, Jerry,” she sighed. “Not while you were washin’ up, you weren’t,” he snapped smugly. “Seeya Monday.” He tipped his non-existent hat to Lynn and slid past her to the door. “Prick,” Wendy spat, as soon as the door had closed behind him. “Big man, huh? Takin’ the little woman out for a movie?” “Well, I think it’s kind of sweet. I always liked going to the movies,” Lynn countered. Wendy snorted. “Yeah, well. Considering he keeps her all but barefoot and pregnant, he oughta do something for that poor gal. They have five kids, none of ’em older than eight. And he gives her an allowance for the household. Once she runs out of money from that, tough. Like if one of the kids gets sick and has to go to the doctor, it comes outta her household budget, and she’s gotta make it up somewhere else. He spends the rest on his own toys and some babe he sees on Saturday nights when

Millie thinks he’s out bowling with the boys. Makes me sick.” Unable to think of a reply to that revelation, Lynn just watched as Wendy filled in the spaces on the work order. “So, were you able to figure out the problem?” “Didn’t really have too much time to analyze it all, but from what I can tell, you got a bent axle, a busted tie rod and we’ll have to replace the tire you lost. Might be some damage to the rack-andpinion steering system, I just haven't had time to pull it apart enough to tell. I can tell you it’s not gonna be a cheap job, or quick. Wish I had better news for you.” “How long do you think it’ll take?” “Well, if I wait for Jerry to get around to ordering parts, it’ll be nigh onto forever. Do you have another car to drive?” “No. Not since David … no.” Lynn played absent-mindedly with a pen on the dirty, scratched countertop. “I guess I could rent one.” She looked up at Wendy, who noticed a vulnerability in Lynn’s face she hadn’t seen before. “Hey, it’ll be okay. If you don’t mind waiting till I finish this work order, I’ll drive you home and you can make arrangements from there, okay? I mean, I don’t have any plans for tonight. Maybe we could even stop and get something to eat on the way.” She smiled reassuringly at Lynn, who hesitated momentarily, then nodded. “If you’re sure it’s no trouble…that would be nice. Thanks.” “Sure. And I’ll come in for a little bit tomorrow morning and see if I can order the parts myself. That way, we can wrap it up and get it back to you as soon as possible.” She asked Lynn a few questions about her address, phone number and insurance company for the form, then walked into the garage to get the VIN number and other necessary information. She called back into the office area, “Do you need anything out of your car?” “Is my GPS safe to leave here, or should I take it with me?” “I wouldn’t trust anything anywhere, these days. Besides, you’ll probably be needing it before

you get your car back. Want me to get it for you?” “If you wouldn’t mind.” Wendy opened the door and looked at the GPS hookup. It didn’t look like other ones she’d seen. There was some other kind of adapter plugged in, as well, another thing she’d never seen before. Clearly, it was an older Acura, since all the new ones came with onboard GPS. As good as she was with mechanical things, these electronic gadgets still scared the hell out of her. She was always afraid she’d miss something and cause permanent damage. “Ms. Tillis, I, uh…will you help me get this out?” Lynn entered the garage with its smells of gasoline, oil and rubber, and leaned over Wendy’s hunched frame. She giggled. “What? Something I can fix that you can’t?” Wendy rolled her eyes and Lynn realized she’d forgotten about the inline hookup she’d had installed so she could run both her iPhone and the GPS through her speakers. She unplugged it from the console, reached behind the dash and pulled another plug, then wound up the cables. She was very aware of the warmth of Wendy’s body again, and lingered just a moment longer than necessary over the top of her. Then, surprised at herself and a little embarrassed, she straightened up and stuffed the whole mess in her briefcase. “Okay, all ready!” she chirped, a little overzealously. Wendy removed herself from Lynn’s car and turned around. Lynn hadn’t moved away and Wendy bumped right into her. “Oops! Sorry, Ms. Tillis. I thought you were…” “It’s Lynn, Wendy. Call me Lynn,” she replied, in a low voice she didn’t recognize as her own. She backed up a step, just enough to put some sort of decent space between them. She looked up at Wendy and felt herself flush. Wendy didn’t miss it, either. Seeing Lynn’s auburn hair shining in the glow of the shop lights, it was her turn to feel flustered. “Uh, okay…Lynn. Ready?” She sidestepped her noticeably and headed for the office. Lynn hung back for a minute to get herself together, realizing she had momentarily stopped breathing. She couldn’t remember the last time her heart had beat this rapidly. What the hell was going

on with her? She followed Wendy through the door. When she stepped into the office, Todd, the evening mechanic, was coming through the front. Wendy greeted him and seemed grateful for this return to a proscribed business atmosphere. “Hey!” she called. “All set up and ready!” She handed him the clipboard and gave him a few details about the other two cars on the racks. One lube job, one tune-up. It was obvious there was a rapport between Todd and Wendy, and Lynn felt oddly curious. “Is he your boyfriend?” she asked as they left the shop. Wendy spun and looked a bit surprised. “Huh?” “Todd. Is he your boyfriend?” Wendy laughed aloud. “God, no. He’s just a kid from the tech school who’s trying to get started as a mechanic. He's smart and ambitious, and I probably don't have to tell you how rare that combination is these days, especially in the younger people. Jerry hired him as a pump monkey and won’t teach him anything, probably ’cause he doesn’t want Todd to know how little he knows. So, I kinda tutor him in the evenings sometimes when I don’t have anything else to do. I’ve got him on lube jobs and basic tune-ups already. He messes with them at night and I check his work when I come in, in the morning. “Jerry doesn’t know anything about it. I don't let him work on anything he can screw up too bad, and he’s a good kid. He listens and doesn’t mess with stuff he doesn’t know about. He really wants to learn, and I like that about someone. So I help him. Doesn’t hurt anybody, and I enjoy his company.” She opened the passenger door for Lynn and helped her in. Lynn watched as Wendy strode around to her side and got in. For the first time, she was consciously aware that she was more than mildly interested in this woman, and it surprised her. “So, does your boyfriend mind that you spend time with Todd at the shop?” She was fishing now. Wendy started the engine and put her arm over the top of the seat behind Lynn as she backed

out of her parking space. Shifting into first, she looked directly at Lynn. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” She felt uneasy now, and didn’t know what else to say. “Oh. Well then, if you don’t have anyone waiting for you at home, why don’t we just have dinner at my place?” Lynn was acutely aware of the presence of Wendy’s hand behind her neck. Boy, she’s sure making a lot of assumptions, Wendy thought. How does she know I don’t have anyone waiting at home, just because it’s not a guy? But it was true. Since Chrissie, there had been nobody. She looked at Lynn again, at her pretty face, beautiful hair, nice figure, and thought, Why not? What have I got to lose? Besides, there seems to be something going on here. Or maybe she’s just lonely and needs some company. Either way, I could do a lot worse. “Yeah, well…okay.” Lynn smiled then and settled back into her seat, feeling the back of her head touch Wendy’s hand. Wendy did, too, and immediately withdrew it to a safe place in her own lap. She opened the armrest between the seats and without looking, drew out one of her mix-tape CDs, which she slid into the player. In a moment, the beginning notes of “Don’t You Need” were emanating from the four speakers in Melissa Etheridge’s inimitable voice. And when I awoke I tasted the sweat Of desire on my mouth… Oh, God! thought Wendy. What a thing to play! She hoped Lynn wouldn’t notice the lyrics. She thought about hitting the eject button but decided that would be too obvious. Without taking her eyes from the road, she asked, “Do we need to pick anything up from the store for dinner?” “No, I don’t think so. I’ve got a lot of stuff in the freezer. Unless you wanted something special?” “Nah. Whatever is fine.”

Wendy knew the area where Lynn lived from the address on her form, and admired the fine big lawns and large houses in the clean, well-kept neighborhood. As they rounded a curve, Lynn pointed to a two-story Tudor on the left. “That’s it there. You can just park in the driveway.” Wendy maneuvered the Mustang right up to the garage door and shut off the engine. Her heart was beating rapidly. Was she nervous? The slight film of sweat on her palms told her yes. Lynn opened her own door this time and got out. She fished in her briefcase for the keys to the house and, finding them, unlocked the front door. She turned to make sure Wendy was following and stepped inside. “Come on in!” she invited. Wendy stepped in behind her. Lynn dropped her briefcase on a settee in the hallway and kicked off her shoes onto a small rug that seemed to be there for that purpose. She motioned for Wendy to do the same. “Would you like a drink?” Wendy wasn’t much of a drinker, but felt she could use the relaxation of an alcoholic beverage. “Um, sure.” “What would you like?” “What do you have?” Lynn’s head appeared from around a corner. “Anything you want,” she replied, in that low, unexpected voice again. She seemed to notice it herself, and quickly added, “David, my ex-husband, was quite an entertainer. He kept a well-stocked bar.” Wendy thought a minute and requested a gin and tonic. “Great!” Lynn approved. “That’s what I drink. At least I know I can make a good one. Coming right up!” Lynn’s cheerful demeanor relaxed Wendy. Maybe Lynn had just been really stressed out from

her hectic day and now that she was home, she could settle down and stop acting so strange. Lynn glided into the kitchen where Wendy had seated herself on a stool in the breakfast nook and placed a fancy tumbler on the counter in front of her. She stood on the other side and raised her glass. “To a successful closing and a dashing rescue!” she cheered. “Prösit!” Wendy offered in return. They both sipped their drinks, then Lynn lowered her glass to the counter. “Wendy, I want you to know how very much I appreciate all you’ve done for me today. If I’d have missed that meeting it would’ve been a disaster for my career. This is one of the biggest sales I’ve made with my new agency. And now that I’m on my own, I’m feeling the pressure to perform. Thank you very, very much.” She put her hand on top of Wendy’s for just a moment, careful not to make her uncomfortable. Wendy smiled and nodded. “Don’t even worry about it. I was glad to help. Besides, anything that gets me away from Jerry during the day is a welcome relief. It’s nice to get out of the dark garage once in a while, especially on a nice, sunny day like this. So, you’re welcome and it was my pleasure.” She didn’t move her hand from under Lynn’s. “So!” Lynn announced, “time for dinner! What would you like?” “Anything really is fine with me. Hey, I uh, need to use your facilities.” “Huh?” “The bathroom. Where do I find it?” “Oh, sure,” Lynn chuckled. “Sorry. It’s right down that hall to your left.” Wendy got up and walked in the direction Lynn pointed. The hall was long and she found what she was looking for at the end of it. While Wendy was gone, Lynn went through the wrapped parcels in the freezer. Coming upon a

box of rock shrimp, she pulled it out onto the counter. She felt like celebrating despite the episode with the car, and for some reason, this special treat seemed appropriate. She set about unwrapping the expensive morsels and putting them on a tray to defrost in the microwave. After setting the temperature and pressing the button to start the defrost, she noticed that Wendy still wasn’t back. She started down the hallway, and called her name. As Lynn turned the sharp corner to the left, she found her looking at some old photos of herself and David on a beach in Hawaii. “I thought maybe you got lost,” she explained, and came to stand beside Wendy. She gently took the photo from Wendy’s hand and looked at it herself. “Those were pretty good times,” she said wistfully. Wendy noticed a softening of Lynn’s features as she stared at the framed memory. “You and your husband. I’ve seen him in the shop once or twice.” “Yes. When we still loved each other.” She set the photo back on the table. “A million years ago, it seems.” Wendy thought back to her years with Chrissie, before they had grown apart, and felt a kinship with Lynn that she hadn’t before. “I know what you mean,” she acknowledged. “Oh, are you divorced?” Lynn turned to her with a quizzical look. “Well, not exactly. But I know what it’s like to lose a special relationship.” She looked back at the photo and then at Lynn. She noticed how green Lynn’s eyes were, and in a wash of the pain left over from her breakup with Chrissie, felt the urge to hold Lynn, to comfort her and be comforted. Realizing this, she backed away from the table and started down the hall. “Some place you’ve got here!” she observed, moving toward safer ground. “Yes, I really do like it. It was the one thing I wouldn’t give up in the divorce. We looked long and hard for just such a place and I’ve put too much of myself into the decoration. It’s home to me, and with everything else changing in my life, I need that stability. Know what I mean?”

“Oh, yeah. I really do.” Wendy stared off into space and there was an awkward silence. Lynn spoke up. “Would you like to see the whole thing?” “Sure, if it’s all as nice as this part.” Wendy looked around and thought that if this place really was a reflection of Lynn, she must be some classy lady. She followed as Lynn led her down the stairs to the finished basement. There was a fully equipped workout room, a sauna and a jacuzzi surrounded by mirrored walls. There was another bar and a small area with overstuffed chairs for relaxing. “Wow. You must spend a lot of time down here!” Wendy exclaimed. “Actually, no. Neither of us ever had time between our jobs and all the work we brought home. You know, I think that was probably a big part of our problem. Too much time for everything else but us. I bet I’ve only been in this whirlpool twice, and both times alone. I think this room was more a wishful thought than an actual reflection of the way we lived.” She turned unexpectedly to Wendy and caught her eyes. “I know it all looks like something, but I’ll tell you: Money’s not everything.” She gave Wendy a crooked little smile and looked away. They walked back upstairs. Wendy watched Lynn’s back as she mounted the steps, and allowed herself a quick glance at her bottom. The gin was beginning to affect her and she felt a bit self-indulgent. She couldn’t help but appreciate Lynn’s small, tight back under the silky material of her blouse and the incredibly attractive lines of her firm little ass. When they got to the top of the steps, they went back into the kitchen. Lynn grabbed both their drinks off the counter and handed Wendy hers. “I decided on rock shrimp for dinner. Do you like seafood?” “You bet,” Wendy replied. She realized she was quite hungry, and the alcohol was putting an edge on her appetite. “Great. We can take a tour through the rest of the house while they’re defrosting.” She peeked

through the window at the curled crustaceans thawing in their radioactive chamber, then took another sip of her drink. “This really does taste good, doesn’t it?” “Yeah. Hits the spot after a rough day.” She smiled at Lynn. As they walked through the rest of the first level, Lynn chattered away about this furnishing or that wallcovering, how she had been especially taken with this or that feature of the house when they’d first looked at it. The gin was obviously beginning to have an effect on her, too, as she became increasingly animated and good-natured. When they’d finished with the ground floor, she put fresh ice in their tumblers and refilled them. “Ready for the upstairs?” “Ready!” Lynn giggled and grabbed Wendy’s hand, leading her to the stairs. She suddenly realized what she was doing and let go, turning to see Wendy’s reaction. Wendy was somewhere between mortified and breathless, but tried hard not to let it show. She knew that to acknowledge what she was feeling would not only give her away, but might also put an end to the fun she was having. Now that Lynn was relaxed, her company was quite jovial and carefree, a pleasure Wendy hadn’t enjoyed in some time. She wasn’t about to let her evening be ruined by a hormone rush. So, she just giggled good-naturedly and acted as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. This seemed to satisfy Lynn and she turned back toward the top of the stairs. When they reached the landing, she proceeded to show Wendy several guest rooms, some with traditional furnishings and others with more modern pieces or modular units. It was an eclectic and interesting mix, the adventure of which was not lost on Wendy. Then they came to what used to be Lynn and David’s room, the master suite. The walls were covered in a tasteful almond background paper with a pattern of small mochacolored seashells. The windows sported matching mini-blinds draped on either side by almond-colored

sheers. The evening sun was coming in through the half-open blinds and laying a pattern of pumpkinhued stripes across the rumpled sheets on the bed. “Oh, God. Just ignore that. I forgot I hadn’t made the bed. I was in such a hurry this morning,” Lynn apologized. Her smile disappeared and she stirred her drink with her finger. “You know, it just doesn’t seem important to make it anymore, since I’m the only one who sees it.” Her head still down, she shyly turned her eyes up toward Wendy. Wendy felt suddenly overcome with sympathy for Lynn. She remembered all too well the emptiness that had engulfed her after Chrissie had moved out, leaving all kinds of holes to fill. She felt sad and angry at the same time, that this woman who seemed so poised and self-assured was really just like her: empty and aching and longing for the happiness she had once known. “Are you lonely?” she heard herself ask. Lynn said nothing for a bit, just watched her finger swirling the ice cubes in her glass. Then she spoke. “Yes,” was all she said, her voice cracking. Without thinking, Wendy reached out her hand and gently raised Lynn’s face to look at her. “You don’t have to be,” she whispered. Lynn’s hands began to shake and the ice clinked against the sides of her glass. As she began to cry, Wendy took her glass and put both their drinks on the dresser. Then she enfolded Lynn in her arms and held her, feeling the sobs wrack her slight frame and her breath come in shudders. Overcome by Lynn’s sadness, the alcohol and the smell of Lynn’s perfume, Wendy bent and kissed the top of her head. Lynn’s hair was so soft and fragrant, and she wanted only to stay like this for a long time. But she felt Lynn’s body stiffen, and realized what she had just done. For an instant, they both stood motionless. Lynn’s thoughts were racing madly, along with her heart. My God, she thought. What am I doing? This is a woman! I am a woman! I can’t believe what I’m feeling. But she knew without looking

that her nipples had hardened and she could feel the heat between her legs. There was no denying that these were not just friendly feelings toward a comforting companion. Part of her wanted desperately to pull away from this woman and run, to scream for her to leave, to act violated and outraged. But that part was a lie. What she really wanted was to hold on to this strong, gentle, wonderful creature who still found room for kindness in her own battered heart, who still believed in caring. She thought about what Wendy had just said, what a risk she had taken in saying it. She was tired of admiring other people for taking risks while always backing down from taking her own. Wendy felt Lynn’s arms encircle her above the waist, and didn’t know what to do. She wanted to kiss her, to tell her the whole world wasn’t a dangerous place, that there were safe ports in the storm. But all she could do was hold her. She was so afraid of misinterpreting Lynn’s signals, of taking advantage of a vulnerable, frightened woman. But when Lynn pulled her closer and buried her face between her breasts, Wendy felt her own breathing get shallow and her knees go weak. She kissed Lynn’s hair again, smoothing the back of it with one hand, still holding her close with the other. She felt Lynn nuzzling into her left breast, and the electrifying sensations that were spreading from that spot were incredible. She began to kiss Lynn’s ear, to burrow into the thick, auburn hair around her neck. Lynn moaned softly, almost inaudibly, and reached up to kiss Wendy’s throat. Wendy responded with a moan of her own, and moved her hands up to Lynn’s shoulders. She gently drew her away, so that they could look at each other. “Do you really want this?” she asked. Lynn was crying, the tears streaking her reddened face. She nodded. “Really, Lynn? This is no game for me.” Lynn tried to draw even breaths. “I…I don’t think I’ve…ever wanted anything…more,” she stammered. She was looking Wendy in the eyes, and Wendy could see the desire in hers, blatant and unmasked. She felt a burning like

molten lead run from her breasts to the spot between her thighs. Her head was reeling, she was breathing quickly and thought she might pass out. ”I need to sit down,” she admitted. Lynn let her arms drop from Wendy’s waist and took her hand, leading her to the rumpled bed. Wendy sat on the edge, looking up at Lynn who was standing over her. She gave a soft tug on her hands and pulled Lynn down beside her. Lynn faced Wendy, wide-eyed and trembling. “Are you afraid?” Wendy worried. “Yes, I am …but not of you,” came Lynn’s reply. “What, then?” “Me. I’m afraid of me.” Lynn looked to Wendy like a little lost child. “Why?” “Partly because I’m afraid I’ll hurt you somehow. But mostly because I’ve never wanted anyone so much in my life. I want you, Wendy.” She put her hand up to Wendy’s cheek, ran her fingers down the soft, tanned skin. Wendy responded by running her fingers through Lynn’s thick mane and touching her full, perfect lips. “I want you, too. My God. I can’t believe this is happening. You’re so beautiful, you’re like a dream. No matter how bad we want each other, I want to go slow. I want this to last. All my dreams end too quickly, and I don’t want this to be one of them.” “I’m not going anywhere, Wendy. My hurry for the day is over. This night can last as long as we want it to.” Lynn unbuttoned the top of Wendy’s shirt. “Love me.” A wave of pure, unbridled desire swept over Wendy, and she gently pushed Lynn back onto the pillows. She ran her hands over her silky blouse, over Lynn’s arms, her stomach, her breasts. The hard little nipples poked up and she felt them through the fabric as though it weren’t even there. Her mouth began to water, and she felt her own nipples grow hard. The light from the window had grown a deeper orange, and it lay in bands across Lynn’s face. It

ran over every smooth, rolling plane of her cheeks, eyes, nose, mouth and forehead. It made her look mysterious and wild, and Wendy drew a quick breath. Lynn reached up to Wendy’s shirt and continued the unbuttoning she had begun earlier. She sat up a little and pulled Wendy closer, placing a kiss on her breastbone, then above each button as she undid it. When she had completed the unbuttoning, she slowly pulled the shirt apart to reveal Wendy’s ample and well-toned chest, which was free of the encumbrance of a bra. Her eyes were riveted to Wendy’s full, round breasts, and she wondered why she had never before noticed how wonderful women’s bodies were. She leaned forward to put her cheek on the skin between Wendy’s breasts, and inhaled deeply the scent of her. Her head was spinning with the intensity of her need, and she moved her face to begin caressing the underside of Wendy’s soft breast with long strokes of her tongue. Wendy inhaled sharply and her head dropped back so that she was facing the ceiling. Her arms were locked out straight and resting on Lynn’s legs. ” Jesus. I’d swear you’ve done this before, but I don’t think so.” ” No…not with a woman, if that’s what you mean.” ” You sure know what to do. God, that feels unbelievable!” Wendy’s hands moved blindly to Lynn’s blouse buttons, which she undid slowly, in time with Lynn’s concentrated licking. She felt herself beginning to glide back and forth on her legs, which straddled Lynn’s. Finally, she pulled her head back up and looked down to behold the unblemished white skin of Lynn’s chest. She peeled back the slippery fabric and pulled the sleeves from her arms as Lynn sat motionless, watching her face. Wendy reached around Lynn’s back and unhooked her bra, pulling it down her arms and watching it drop around her waist. Her eyes became transfixed on Lynn’s small, round breasts with their rosy pink nipples standing at rapt attention. As she reached out to touch them, her hands were trembling, but Lynn’s own hands wrapped about them and drew them to her. She cupped Wendy’s shaking fingers over her warm

roundness, and in this way pulled Wendy closer again. As Wendy leaned in, she began to softly knead Lynn’s breasts and bent low to kiss her. Her lips parted ever so slightly, she pressed them to Lynn’s red, inviting mouth. They brushed softly, Wendy searching for something she wasn’t sure of, Lynn catching her breath. The sweetness of Lynn’s lips was too much and Wendy fell slowly forward, her arms going around Lynn’s back, then turning and pulling her on top of herself. Lynn’s lips parted, and the tip of her tongue traced the outline of Wendy’s mouth, slowly, softly. Wendy’s tongue met hers and they tasted each other’s want. Wendy forgot about all other parts of Lynn’s body and her own as they indulged in a deep, hungry kiss that melted into another and another. They explored each other’s mouths, Wendy running her tongue over Lynn’s clean, sharp teeth, Lynn sucking lightly on Wendy’s burning lips. Wendy felt an intense heat between her legs and the material of her shirt still on her back felt scratchy and hot. She sat up, put her arms behind her and let it slide off, revealing her well-muscled back and solid, defined arms. In the waning evening rays, Lynn saw a bronzed statue of a Greek goddess hovering over her bed. “My God, you’re gorgeous!” she rasped, in that husky voice Wendy recognized from earlier in the day. She was instantly glad she’d kept up with her workouts at the gym. Her body was one possession of which she was proud, and she wanted nothing more right now than to give it to Lynn, the russet-haired beauty that lay beneath her in a sea of softness. “Thank you,” she smiled. “Lynn, I want to undress you.” Her directness caught Lynn off guard, and she searched for Wendy’s eyes in the dying light. She found them, and they were beautiful, deep and laughing. Whatever fear had lingered in Lynn until now vanished in the field of trust and gentleness they had established between them. She smiled back. “I want you to.” Wendy pulled Lynn to the edge of the bed and undid the clasp at the top of her tailored slacks, then slowly pulled the zipper down. She reached around Lynn’s back and pulled the waistband down

until it was no longer trapped between Lynn and the bed, then slid the pants down Lynn’s long, smooth legs to the floor. Lynn’s pantyhose were next to go, in much the same fashion. Lynn shivered as Wendy’s hand brushed past her mound on the way down. Nylons always made her skin sensitive anyway, and now it was almost unbearable in this area that already felt on fire. Every touch seared her skin, ironically raising goosebumps in its trail. In her heightened state of arousal, every sound was magnified to a ringing in her ears. The swish of their skin on the sheets registered as an ocean wave, her own heartbeat as thunder. Watching Wendy remove her clothes was one of the most erotic things she had ever done, and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe any harder or faster without hyperventilating. Wendy, too, found the undressing incredibly sexy. She knew that if her own jeans were off, Lynn would see the wetness dripping down her legs, like the sweat was running between her breasts. As she removed Lynn’s panties, the smell of Lynn’s wetness filled her nostrils and she sucked in its heady aroma. She felt the dampness in the crotch of the panties as she slid them off, and it excited her until her nipples burned. She moved up over Lynn and brought her lips to them. “Please, suck me. I want to feel your lips so bad.” Lynn complied readily, sucking and biting softly, pulling the inflamed fleshbuds into her mouth, devouring them. At first she only teased the nipples, but soon she felt she must engulf the entire firm mounds. She gobbled them hungrily, licking and kissing. She wasn’t sure who was getting more pleasure from this, for she felt the sticky wetness dripping down from her sizzling crotch onto the bed at the same time a deep and sustained moan escaped Wendy’s mouth. It was then that Wendy pulled slowly away and, kneeling on the bed, undid the button on her 501s and pulled the zipper down. “Oh, no, you don’t,” Lynn protested. Wendy shot her a look, bewildered. Was she going to stop now? Lynn smiled wickedly. “Those are mine.” She rose up and hooked a finger in a belt loop on

either side of Wendy’s waist and pulled the jeans down over her slightly rounded hips. She got them as far as her knees, where they bunched up and wouldn’t go any further. Then she eased Wendy down on the bed while she herself slid off the edge till her feet touched the floor. She walked around to the other side so that she was looking down over Wendy’s prone torso from above her head. Then she crawled over her with her arms and legs on both sides of Wendy’s body, coming to rest so that her dripping crotch was directly above Wendy’s face. She slid Wendy’s jeans off the rest of the way, then went for her panties. She reached under Wendy’s bottom, soft and hard at the same time, and pulled the back of the elastic band out from under her. Then, with her teeth, she pulled down the front of the panties, making sure her lips brushed across the tangle of hair just above Wendy’s throbbing clit. As she bent to do this, her body lowered onto Wendy’s, making her wet labia easily accessible to Wendy’s waiting mouth. Wendy wasted no time finding the sensitive little button in Lynn’s thick bush, and covering it with the heat of her wet and wanting mouth. She flicked her tongue back and forth over it several times, and felt Lynn jerk with the unexpectedly intense sensations. She shifted her attentions to the less sensitive lips below Lynn’s clitoris, which she bathed in luxurious strokes of her tongue. Lynn let out a deep, guttural sigh, somewhere between a groan and a wail, without the painful edge. Wendy knew she had found a good spot, and continued caressing the soft folds of skin slowly and lovingly. Almost immediately, Lynn began a slow-motion dance on her hands and knees, back and forth, back and forth. Her breathing became rhythmic in time with her body movement. Wendy could hear a soft, growling sound emanating from Lynn. My God, she thought, she’s purring! She wanted to giggle, but didn’t want to break this magic spell that held them together. So she buried her face farther into Lynn’s fragrant, wet flesh, starting the tongue strokes farther forward and pulling them farther back, lengthening the pleasurable sensation for Lynn. By this time, Lynn’s body had developed a space all its own, separate from her mind, her

inhibitions, her anxiety. She couldn’t remember ever having been this excited in her life, and didn’t try. David had never, ever brought her to this heightened state of consciousness where every sensation of touch had a sound, every motion a taste, every smell a sight. Her nerve endings were vibrating faster than any oscilloscope could have measured, her lips tingled, her ears pounded with the rushing of her own blood. Wendy’s hands were everywhere as Lynn rocked; on her back, her breasts, massaging the backs of her thighs. She cupped her fingers around Lynn’s small, soft buns, kneading them gently but firmly. She began tightening her own buttocks, pushing her mound toward the woman who was riding her on a tidal wave building slowly toward oblivion. As Wendy’s tongue, lips and nose worked wonders somewhere far below her, Lynn felt her lungs fill up with air lighter than any she’d breathed before. She felt every bit of flesh on her body tingle, and the blood rushed to her head. Her thigh muscles began to tighten involuntarily, and she started to rock faster. She heard herself moan, softly at first, then louder and louder. ” Ye…yes. Oh, God, girl. Oh, God. It’s so, so goooooood…” Wendy sucked greedily at the wetness that poured from Lynn, its slightly salty taste so good in her mouth. She kissed Lynn’s lower lips as she would have kissed her mouth, licking and tonguing. Lynn started bucking up and down now, not slow anymore, or gentle. “Yes! Do this! Oh, my God!” She felt the sensation that had seconds before been all over her body concentrate itself around her pussy. She squeezed her legs together around Wendy’s head, grabbed her arms, and exploded. She knew she was screaming at the top of her lungs, but Wendy never heard a sound. Lynn’s mouth was open wide, but nothing came out of it as she felt the dynamite detonate in her head, lighting up the space behind her eyes with brilliant flashes of blue and red. She heard a waterfall and smelled the heat of her childhood summers in Georgia, and goosebumps rose along her flesh where Wendy’s hands were lowering her to the softness of the bunched-up comforter.

When the roaring had subsided and the colors faded, Lynn opened her eyes. They were still not back to normal, and in the near darkness she sensed Wendy more than saw her, lying on her side along Lynn’s prone body. She knew without seeing that Wendy was watching her, and she put out a hand to where she instinctively knew her face would be. Softly placing her fingertips on Wendy’s lips, she parted them and reached inside with her forefinger. Wendy took it in, sucked it and ran her tongue around it, pulling back slowly, slowly, until it came all the way out. Lynn knew her eyes were wide, but she didn’t know if it was from fear or disbelief. Could she really be doing this? Had she just moved like that? Was this her body, lying here in the afterburn of the most incredible orgasm she had ever experienced? With a woman? As Wendy voluntarily took another of Lynn’s fingers into her juicy mouth, Lynn realized that indeed it was her body, and she was overwhelmingly grateful. Not wanting Wendy to sense her momentary hesitance, she hooked the finger in Wendy’s mouth and pulled her close. Lynn took Wendy’s face between her hands and turned it toward her. “Anything I could say would be feeble after that, but I want you to know how thankful I am. That was …” “Don’t,” Wendy admonished gently, putting her finger to Lynn’s lips. “Please. I know how it felt without words. You have a very expressive body. I’m as thankful as you are to know that I can give someone that much pleasure. Especially someone who needs it so much.” She rolled slightly and wrapped both her arms about Lynn, and held her. Wendy felt both the satisfaction of Lynn’s orgasm and the restlessness of her own need now, as Lynn’s breathing became more regular. She wanted Lynn so badly, but was afraid to pursue anything further until Lynn gave some sign that she, too, wanted more. Would Lynn feel as good about making love to another woman as she had about being made love to? Wendy didn’t need to wait long for her answer. As Lynn’s pulse slowed to something resembling normal, she felt a new kind of excitement—a curiosity—growing. She knew now what it

meant to be really touched, inside and out. Now she wanted to know what it felt like to be the one touching. She became acutely aware of the circle of warmth around her that was formed by Wendy’s arms, making her feel safe, protected. She was ready to take another chance on this already miraculous day. She reached out and traced the lines of Wendy’s reclining torso with her still-tingling fingers, and marveled at the perfection and smoothness of her form. Deep blue twilight had replaced the orange glow of evening, making Wendy’s body look like burnished steel. Again, Lynn felt she was beholding a goddess. When her fingers finally made it to the outlines of Wendy’s face, she could just barely make out her eyes, glistening in the dying light of dusk. It was then Lynn realized that desire looked the same in the eyes of a woman as it did in those of a man, and she recognized it. “I know,” she whispered. A slow smile spread across Wendy’s face, and she drew her fingers gently across Lynn’s cheek. Lynn reached up and took those fingers in her own, pulling them to her mouth, kissing each finger separately. Then she opened Wendy’s hand and turned it around, kissing the palm, the wrist. She moved back to the fingers, licking the sensitive space between them from the base to the end of each finger, and running her tongue along the tops of Wendy’s knuckles. Then she took that hand in her own and massaged the palm, the fleshy mound beneath the thumb, each finger. Wendy sighed, shivered slightly. “That feels so incredibly good.” “I can imagine,” Lynn replied quietly. “You work so much with them. They should get to relax and feel good, too.” She smiled at her new lover. Wendy felt her whole self relaxing, enjoying the minute and careful attentions of this beautiful woman, attentions she had gone without for so long. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift into the sensations of warmth and healing kindness that flowed through her arm as Lynn worked her way up the wrist, arm and elbow. As Lynn’s fingers finished with Wendy’s arm, and then the other one, they wandered to her

breast, finding its pink nipple resting slightly to the side. She hesitated at first, brushing it lightly with her palm, then took it between her fingers and squeezed very gently. When Wendy moaned, Lynn knew it wasn’t from pain, and continued her soft kneading. Suddenly, Lynn was overcome with a need to feel more of this wonderful part of Wendy’s body, in a much more intimate way, and she slid down to take it in her mouth. It reminded her, in its soft fullness, of the great, puffy round rolls her grandmother used to bake, and she found herself salivating in the same way she used to when they were pulled, warm and fragrant, from the oven. She realized it was no less a hunger that she felt right now, almost wanting to devour this woman here in her bed. The need felt massive and overwhelming, as if to make up for lost time in finding what pleased her, filled her, made her feel whole and honest. Wendy sensed the change come over Lynn as her movements became more insistent, less gentle. Lynn’s lips on her tender nipples were hot and arousing, the new intensity she felt from them only increasing her excitement. At the same time, Lynn’s hands were moving up and down her sides, tracing her ribs, over her belly, her hips, her arms, everywhere. The sensations were causing her to lose focus on her breasts and were sending signals from so many points on her body that she lost track. Her hands found Lynn’s head and wound themselves into her hair—that thick, silky mane. Her fingers penetrated down to Lynn’s scalp, and she massaged it while pulling Lynn’s head into her chest. Wendy kept wanting to reassure herself that this was really happening, that it wasn’t another dream born of loneliness. She held Lynn to her tightly, just for a moment, then released her grip. Lynn nuzzled her cheek against Wendy’s chest, seeming to understand this need for a reality check. She liked the way she could feel her own facial hairs rubbing against Wendy’s hot skin. She liked the way Wendy smelled. She liked the way she could smell her own scent. Everything seemed so magnified, so larger-than-life. Her senses became acute again, but this time it wasn’t because of her desire to be taken, but to be the taker. She began kissing her way down from Wendy’s breasts to her belly. The kisses became small

nips, and she imagined herself a cat, playing with another. She felt the joyous abandon that she had seen cats display, and let it take her over. She was tasting a freedom she had never even imagined, much less experienced. She continued to nip and suck at Wendy’s flesh, pulling here, licking there, listening to Wendy almost growl, low in her throat. So, Lynn thought, I’m not the only one feeling animal tonight. She felt brave and somehow powerful. Lynn’s hands engulfed what her mouth could not. Breasts, thighs, calves shimmered and danced under her demanding fingers. Wendy’s body took on a rhythmic undulation as she felt Lynn’s burning tongue on every part of her. Her own hands touched Lynn’s hair, her shoulders, her own breasts. She arched her back, feeling the lovely lips come oh-so-close to her waiting, wanting pussy. Lynn had worked her way down to that achingly wet place, could feel the heat emanating from it as she ran her chin along the top of Wendy’s mound. She inhaled deeply, wanting to take in all of Wendy’s essence. Her hunger increased, and she wanted to take Wendy in her mouth. She slid her hands down under Wendy’s legs, ran them along the backs of her calves. The spectacular muscles rippled just under the skin as Wendy tensed and relaxed her legs in response to the new sensation of Lynn’s tongue at the opening of her dripping slit. Lynn licked above it, below it, to the sides, driving Wendy nearly mad. As much as she wanted it to last, she couldn’t wait any longer. She arched to meet Lynn’s tongue, felt it slip neatly and wetly into her. “Ohhhh, God…” she rasped, “yes…” Wendy’s head tilted slowly back over the pillow, her chin to the ceiling. Lynn began to lick in earnest, teasing her throbbing, swollen clit. In the midst of her licking, she became acutely aware of the immense wetness surrounding her mouth, and realized she was salivating almost as much as Wendy was dripping. The thought struck her as incredibly erotic, and she began to move faster. Wendy was ready for the increased pace, and when she felt Lynn slip a long finger inside her, she nearly came right then. But she waited, wanting to draw out this ecstasy as long as possible. Lynn

worked another finger inside Wendy’s grasping hole, felt the ring of muscle begin to contract. Wendy began to bear down on the welcome hand, back, forth. “My god, you’re wet,” Lynn whispered, “It’s such a turn-on. You’re making me wet again.” Wendy only needed that little push, and she felt herself begin the delayed ascent to heaven. She tightened her grip on Lynn’s shoulders, alternately with digging her nails into the skin at the nape of her neck. Her breathing became ragged as she felt herself catapulted to a place beyond stopping. “Yes, omigod yes. Yes! Jesus!” Her explosion was massive and complete. Lynn felt the eruption of hot cream surround her fingers, flow out around her hand. She wanted to savor it, and lapped up what she could during Wendy’s violent tremors. Then Wendy was still, her breathing barely audible. Lynn slowly withdrew her hand from the pleasure zone, careful not to brush Wendy’s sensitive little bud on the way out. She laid her head on Wendy’s now-soft stomach, feeling the contractions that still played along the muscles there, and wrapped her arms up over Wendy’s prone shoulders. She slid back up along her body, and looked up to see Wendy’s face, eyes closed above a contented smile. She ran her finger across those precious lips. Slowly, Wendy’s eyes opened, and she turned to Lynn. There was a question in her eyes, but no words from her lips. Lynn smiled. “So many things not working right in my life,” she whispered. “Didn’t know how much I needed a mechanic.”