She was wearing a white fur coat with black spots and looked like the human twin of her dog. Greg broke the silence by saying, "If I were that pooch I'd be mighty offended."
I didn't respond and kept my eyes forward. Greg turned to me, and out of the corner of my eye I could see that he was smiling. He shrugged and said, "I can't tell who's walking who."
That's when I knew he was uncomfortable. I didn't say anything. Greg's smile slowly dropped. If there was a slight amount of tension in the car before, it had just doubled. A horn behind us honked because the light was green. Greg hit the gas and didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride.
It wasn't that I was trying to be a bitch, I was just holding in my emotions. I'd wanted to cry all day. But I didn't want to do it in front of Greg or any of his family, didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me vulnerable. I wanted them to see a woman who was standing tall, not ashamed of who or what she was and able to take tragedy without turning into a puddle of tears. Especially after the way they'd treated me.
I wasn't sure if Greg's offer to give me a ride home came from genuine sincerity or if someone had dumped the responsibility on him. I should have left with my friends when they took off, but something - pride, stubbornness, or most likely spite - made me stick around until almost everyone was gone. Very few of the family talked to me or even acknowledged my presence, which seemed to make it all the more important for me to stick around, so they would remember that I had been a part of her life too.
When we pulled up in front of my building I uttered a thank you, figuring I should get out quickly and save us both from any more uncomfortable time together. But before I could open the door Greg said, "Keisha?"
"Yes?" I responded, without looking at him.
"I'm sorry," he said, "for the way my family behaves around you."
It should have cut the tension in half, yet somehow it didn't work. I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to respond to his statement, but Greg continued before I had the chance. "They're a conservative bunch of people. And with Monica being the baby of the family, well, that just made it worse." He paused for a moment and I realized he couldn't look at me either. "They just wanted to think that it was some kind of phase she was going through."
"It was not a phase," I spat out with anger, "and she was twenty-seven, not a baby."
"I know," Greg said. Then he turned to look at me. "And I know it wasn't just some phase. I think I knew it since we were teenagers. Just one of those things you kind of sense, you know?" Greg waited for a response but I offered none. He continued, "Anyway, I'm not trying to excuse the way they behaved, in fact I'm telling you I know it's not right and I'm sorry I played along with it." He turned and looked out at the street. "My cousin really loved you and we should have understood that. To tell you the truth, I don't think Monica had half as much of a problem with the family accepting her for who she was as she did with how we treated you."
There was a long silence after that, but the tension was gone, at least for me. I realized I needed to ease it for Greg, but couldn't think of how.
Finally I said, "When I came out to my dad...he laughed."
Greg turned to me and I looked at him. "Not the kind of reaction you'd usually expect, but if you knew my dad," I smiled, both for emphasis and the thought of my father. Greg smiled too. "He was such a joker," I continued, "and a wiseass. He laughed at a lot of things in life. But it was the kind of laughter that came as a reaction to how horrible and twisted life could be, because if he didn't laugh the only other options were anger or depression.
Greg laughed outright and so did I. When we finished I shook my head. "And in that wonderfully fucked up way of his I immediately knew what my dad was saying. That I'd better prepare for having a hard time with people accepting me."
Greg's smile faded and so did mine. We both looked straight ahead. Greg said, "You're father sounds like a wise man."
I took a deep breath. "He was. And he was right about a lot of things." I turned towards Greg again. "But it's people like you that prove he could be wrong sometimes." I leaned over and kissed Greg on the cheek. "Thank you."
I got out of the car before he could say anything else.
Walking up the stairs to my apartment brought back memories, specifically of that day, six months ago, which was the last time I could remember feeling any kind of happiness. A day when I was running up those stairs with only joy and excitement coursing through my body because I'd just found out I'd landed a promotion at work, something I had been working on and sweating over for months. Monica kept telling me I'd get it even though I worried and fretted, so I was dying to tell her. When I burst through the door she was sitting on the couch.
"You will never guess what happened!" I yelled. And that was exactly the last moment of happiness I had. The look on Monica's face told me there was something wrong, very wrong. She was home early because she had an appointment with the doctor and suddenly I put the two together in my head.
Yeah, that was the last moment of happiness I can remember.
It was cancer, and it was long past the doctor's ability to do much about it. Sure, there were some last ditch efforts and the possibility of taking part in a new experimental drug. Lots of researching on my part with everything from doctors working on the extreme edges of science to holistic and natural remedies to positive thinking therapy, but nothing worked and here I was six months later, walking through the door to the apartment again.
And this time she was gone. Forever.
Crying should have been the first thing on my agenda, I'd been holding it in all day, but I was so tired that I went to the bedroom and laid down on the bed and passed out. When I woke up the sun was setting. I went into the living room and saw there were some messages on the machine.
My fingers went to touch the play button, and that's when it happened. A flash of memory from when Monica and I bought the machine - we got into an intense argument about whether to get it in silver or black (I won). It was one of those stupid arguments that started over something small and blossomed to the point where it's more about anger than the small thing that started it. After spending the entire ride home bringing up every single thing that bothered both of us about each other, we got into a screaming match in the parking lot and finally ended up apologizing for everything we ever did to piss each other off in the stairwell. The makeup sex started as soon as we walked through the door when she pushed me against the wall and started kissing me. Now I was alone with the stupid silver answering machine. Somehow I wished I could go back and let her win the argument. I shook my head and chalked it all up to not eating anything all day.
More memory flashes came in the kitchen. The microwave was the second one we owned together, only because we dropped the first on the way up the stairs. The utensil drawer held two sets of silverware that didn't even come close to matching - the cheap stuff from my college apartment and her grandmother's ornate set that was older than our building. The Liberty Bell salt and pepper shakers were from a romantic weekend in Philadelphia where we spent the entire time having sex in our hotel room. We realized we needed something to remember the trip and picked them up in the gift shop after checking out. I made food quickly and left the kitchen.
Eating and watching television kept my mind busy for a little while. But once all the food was in my stomach I started noticing how every damn story on television has a romance blooming, in trouble or ending. Don't these stupid writers have anything else to write about? Then I remembered when Monica wrote a poem about the first time she saw me. I could recall some of the lines and started reciting them to myself and suddenly I started crying.
I turned off the television and curled up on the couch. My nose was buried in the cushion and I smelled the same scent I'd smelled all those times we spent curled up here. Monica would usually lay behind me and start by kissing my neck, soft, light kisses that made me moan. Then she'd press her lips against one spot and let her tongue come between them to touch my skin. Her hand would slide slowly up and down my side until she finally got under my shirt and...
No, no. I wasn't going to do this to myself. I needed to keep it together.
But the more I told myself that, the more I felt myself slipping. I looked around the room for some kind of help, but all I saw were things that brought back more memories of Monica. The computer she always screamed at, the do-it-yourself cabinet that we put together backwards, the desk lamp we both hated but kept around, pictures of us every place we'd been. My eyes fell on the picture of us at her uncle's cabin. I walked over and picked it up, staring at the two of us with wide smiles on our faces. That was what did it. I started into an outright bawl and dropped to the floor, clutching the picture to my chest and calling her name several times. The picture reminded me that at twenty-nine years old I was already a widow.
I had to get out of the apartment. Jumping to my feet, I barely stopped to grab my jacket and keys before I was out the door. When I got to the street I looked both ways, unsure of where I was headed. I realized I needed to do something extreme to get my mind off of things. Suddenly I knew what that was. I walked the three blocks to a local bar, but I wasn't there for a drink. Alcoholism runs in my family, so I always avoided using booze to ease my pains. I used something else.
When I walked in the door someone grabbed my arm. This was no surprise since most of my friends hang out there. But the person on the other end of that arm was Asian Andy. When he was a baby Andy was abandoned on the steps of a church, and since he doesn't know his exact ethnic background he just calls himself Asian Andy. His hair is down to his shoulders and he wore one of the six hundred heavy metal T-shirts in his wardrobe. For a laid back guy, Andy always has a serious look on his face and tonight was no different. If I didn't know any better I'd think he was waiting for me to walk in.
"Keisha, don't do it. This is a mistake."
I yanked my arm away from him. "Stop it Andy," I said and walked away as fast as I could. Andy is a sweetheart, but he claims to have psychic visions that predict the future, and that bothered the hell out of me. I'm a firm believer in self-determination, that our destinies are not written and we have the power to choose our own fate. It's why I don't practice religion, read horoscopes, call psychics, use Ouija boards or toss pennies into fountains. So Andy's visions have become more of an annoyance for me on principal. I decided not to worry about it and concentrate on what I came for.
My eyes looked up and down the bar until I finally I spotted him. He also has long hair, except it's brown and curly, and where Andy is medium height and thin, Baked Bob is a large framed man who towers over most people. Usually he wears T-shirts as well, but Bob was still in his suit from the funeral. He was talking to an attractive woman that I recognized but couldn't place. I walked up to them and smiled.
"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt," I said.
Bob smiled. "Keish! Didn't expect to see you out tonight, I mean, after the funeral and..." he suddenly turned to the woman. "My friend Keisha here is a lesbian. You know what I always say about her, 'Real men don't eat Keish'."
His female companion laughed. Something seemed strange about Bob; he was acting weird and talking too fast. I realized I needed to cut to the chase. "Bob, I need some pot."
Baked Bob looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He got up and excused himself and pulled me over to the wall. "Your timing sucks ass."
I looked into his eyes and saw something I'd never seen before - they were clear. That's what was wrong with him. "Holy shit," I said. "Are you straight?"
He sighed. "I didn't want to smoke before the funeral today. I figured I owed Monica at least that." While Monica smoked pot once in a while, she objected to Bob's twenty-four seven diet. Bob smiled, "And then I met the lovely lady over there and we've been together the rest of the day."
"Wait...you picked up a girl at the funeral?!"
Bob nodded with vigor. "Crazy, right? I never thought about it before, but funerals got loads of opportunity. You're with all these girls you've never met and you all have something in common to talk about already, you know? 'How'd you know the deceased?' It's the perfect icebreaker."
I shook my head. Monica had to be turning over in her grave right now. Bob continued, "And not only do I meet a chick, but she's so into me. We spent the day together, and I mean the whole day! It's like she doesn't want to be without me."
I looked over at the woman, and then it hit me. "Fuck, Bob, that's Monica's cousin Leslie!"
"So?"
"So she's insane!"
Bob laughed. "Well, Monica always said any girlfriend of mine would have to be."
"No, I mean literally insane! She was committed for two years because she was obsessed with some married guy and tried to kill his wife!"
"Really?" Bob looked over at Leslie. "Cool."
"Cool!" I yelled. Bob put up his hands to quiet me down. I caught my breath. "I tell you she's a lethal head case and you say 'cool'?"
"Yeah. I mean, haven't you ever wished you had someone so into you that they'd kill for you?"
Suddenly my heart sank. Bob's jaw dropped and he put his hands on my shoulders. "Keish, I'm sorry, I didn't..."
I pushed his hands off. "Don't," I said, keeping myself calm and trying to keep Monica out of my head. "Don't worry about it. I just need some stuff."
"I don't have any here. But..." Baked Bob looked like he was in thought, which was a strange look on him. "I know someone who has some stuff, and she's nearby."
Bob said he would call ahead and tell this woman I was coming. I had to take a taxi to the address he gave. The whole ride over I kept thinking about what Asian Andy said to me. Deep down I knew I shouldn't even be entertaining the thought, especially since I don't believe anyone has psychic ability. But there's just something about Andy. I've seen him in action, and while he's not a hundred percent correct all the time, his track record was good enough for me to wonder if he was the real deal.
The address was in a part of town with large mansions, where rich people are separated from the common riff raff by endless front lawns and tall bushes. The actual distance was only two miles, but in so many ways it's light years from my area where apartment buildings and small row houses sit right on top of each other. It took about as long to walk to the front door as it does for me to walk up to my fifth floor apartment from the street. Right as I was about to touch the bell the door swung open. There was an Asian woman standing there wearing a bra, panties and a sheer bed jacket. Many Asian women can be hard to judge age-wise - this one could have been anywhere from sixteen to thirty-six.
"Renee?" I asked.
"No. You must be Keisha. Lady Renee has been expecting you. Come in." I walked in and she shut the door behind me. The foyer was lit with several candles and a chandelier that barely illuminated the area around it. The woman stepped in front of me. "Lady Renee will see you in the master bedroom. Follow me please."
I had to keep myself from laughing at all this pomp and circumstance. Lady Renee? She's been expecting me? There had to be ten or fifteen minutes between the time I left Bob and the time I got there. And this woman must have been waiting by the window in order to open the door before I had a chance to ring the bell. What was really strange was the master bedroom part, unless Renee was an invalid.
I followed her through the foyer into the living room. It looked very fancy, but in a strange way, like the designer was on crack. Each corner of the room had a long piece of fabric hanging down from the ceiling with an excess bunch piled on the floor. Every piece was a different color and none of them matched the couch or chairs. Somehow every one of the knick-knacks around the room managed to look out of place, and instead of being one piece, the mirror above the fireplace was a bunch of smaller mirrors of different sizes and shapes. It looked like a puzzle that would never come together.
As we walked up the stairs I could see the thong the woman was wearing through the sheer fabric of the bed jacket. There was a tattoo on her right butt cheek that I couldn't make out. She wore an anklet on her left ankle, and when I looked closer I realized it looked like diamonds. Either it was a really good fake or one of the most expensive pieces of jewelry I'd ever seen.
Once we were upstairs she led me to a set of double doors and then turned to face me. "Please remove your shoes and socks," she said. I complied and put them beside the door. The way things were in this place I wouldn't have been surprised if the bedroom floor was covered in an inflatable moonwalk. The woman turned and gave a soft knock on the door.
A voice from inside said "Enter."
She opened both doors and we stepped in. It was a large room designed the same way as the one we passed through downstairs, with mismatching trinkets and the colored fabrics hanging in each corner. Soft music played from a stereo I couldn't see, some kind of nature sounds were mixed in with the music. There was a heavy smell of incense in the air.
Against the far wall of the room was a large four-poster bed with a canopy. On the bed were two naked women. One had copper colored skin and long dark hair and looked to be somewhere in her mid to late thirties. Her body had some curves to it and she had large breasts with large, brown nipples and a thin strip of pubic hair. The other woman was a pale, thin girl who looked to be nineteen or twenty. She had small breasts and if she ever allowed hair to grow on her mound it would probably be the same reddish brown as on the top of her head. The girl had what I assumed to be a bong in her hand. It was a large metal piece with a tube covered in metallic mesh leading out of it. The girl held the tube while the older woman sucked out of it.
"Miss Renee, this is Keisha."
The older woman sat up and slowly let the smoke dribble out of her nostrils. "Thank you Zhi. You may go." Renee spoke with an English accent. Zhi gave a slight bow and closed the doors as she left. It was getting harder and harder to keep from laughing at all this.
"So," Renee said. "Baked Bob tells me you want to buy some pot." She started stroking the younger woman's breast. "How much?"
"Depends on price. An eighth. Maybe a quarter."
Renee gave what she must have considered a snort. "That's barely worth my time. Why did he send you to me?"
I smiled and shrugged. "We're both lesbians?"
That didn't amuse her any. "Are you planning to sell what you buy from me?"
"No. It's just for personal use."
Renee smiled. "Personal use. You work in the corporate world, don't you?" I simply nodded without offering more detail. The less she knew about me the better.
"I pity you," she said. "When I was doing interior design I'd take a few jobs for corporations. I was able to see how they sucked the life out of people, turned them into robots scurrying around at their bidding, doing things their way, using their language. Personal use." She shook her head. "So, is pot the only thing you personally use?"
"Yeah," I replied.
"That's a shame. There are so many other wonderful things to try." Renee stared into my face for a moment. "Bob told me you're in pain," she said. I felt a flash of anger at my friend, but filed it away for later.
"Is that why you want the pot?" she asked. "To relieve your pain and suffering?"
I nodded sheepishly.
Renee shook her head with a disapproving look. "Marijuana is not the solution for that. It's for opening up your mind, not shutting it down." Renee stretched out her hand, tapped on a silver tray on the bedside and said, "Duscha." I assumed that was the young woman's name, because she slid off the bed and brought the tray to me. I noticed Duscha wore a silver belly chain. On the tray there were about a dozen white pills.
"What is it?" I asked.
Renee smiled. "Your ticket down the rabbit hole." Duscha giggled.
I sighed and said, "No, really, what are they?"
"The cure to your pain."
"No thanks," I said. "One vice is enough for me. I don't even smoke that often anyway."
Renee got on her knees, crawled to the bedpost and leaned on it. "Life should be experienced, not denied. Besides, what do you have to lose?"
For the first time since I walked into the house I thought about Monica. I took a pill off the tray and looked at it. Small, round, and innocent looking, it hardly struck me as a magical cure. Getting Monica back was the only way to do that. I popped the pill into my mouth and swallowed.
Renee smiled. "Welcome to oblivion."
"I don't feel anything," I said.
"Soon. Let us have some entertainment while we wait." Renee turned. "Duscha."
"Yes ma'am." The girl spoke with an accent that I couldn't place, maybe European. After she walked out I asked Renee where she was from.
"Russia. She came over here to be a model. I don't think it's working out to well for her." There seemed to be a sinister quality to Renee's voice as she said the last part, but I couldn't tell for sure. Reality was in flux at the moment.
The doors opened and Zhi walked in behind Duscha. Renee got up and went to a round, half backed sofa across from the side of the bed. When she lay down on it I noticed there was enough space for another person. Renee looked at me and patted the space next to her. I walked over and sat on the edge.
"Don't be afraid of me," Renee said. "I only bite upon request."
I slid over and lay next to her. She put her arm around me and we looked at the bed. Duscha and Zhi were kneeling on it, facing each other. I realized the music had changed and some techno song was playing. The two girls started crawling around on the bed, like two predators sizing each other up.
Renee's fingers started caressing my shoulder. As the two women circled, I could see the playful look on Duscha's face and the fierce look on Zhi's. It was obvious the Asian woman was very competitive. Duscha may have been playing around, but to someone like Zhi, even a game like this was something she had to win.
Renee's other hand rested on my leg and started moving back and forth. For a moment it looked like Duscha was going to move in on Zhi, but she held her place. Renee's hand moved up the inside of my leg.
Duscha started to swat her hand at Zhi, trying to provoke her. I felt Renee's other hand move from my shoulder to the back of my neck. One of Duscha's swats made contact with Zhi's face, just as Renee's hand arrived at my sex and pressed down.
I sighed as Zhi made some sort of grunting noise. Suddenly she lunged. Duscha was caught off guard and before she knew it Zhi was on top of her, literally, kissing her mouth with force. There was pressure on my neck and suddenly Renee's mouth and mine were engaged. Our kiss was as soft and gentle as the one on the bed was savage and forced.
I was a little reluctant to open my mouth to Renee, but suddenly my mind had the notion that it wanted to feel her tongue and I gave in. Then I realized something had changed. A shift of some kind that wasn't as much physical as it was mental. Renee ended the kiss by putting her hands on my face and pushing it back. Her thumbs were caressing my cheeks when she asked, "How do you feel?"
Suddenly I remembered the pill. The smile on my face was more of a feeling than an action. "Much better," I responded.
"Good," Renee said. We looked at the bed and watched for a moment as Zhi sucked on Duscha's right breast, then turned back towards each other. Renee pulled my face to hers and we started a slow, sensual kiss. She pulled me closer and I could feel her bare breasts up against my shirt. I brought my hands up and slowly touched her breasts with my fingertips, lightly tracing their size. Our eyes made contact and we stared at each other as we slowly broke the kiss.
A groan brought our attention back to the bed. Zhi's tongue had made its way down Duscha's stomach and was licking her crotch. Duscha spread her legs and, with the grace and agility of a gymnast, brought them back so her ankles were at her ears. Zhi licked the underside of Duscha's legs in such a slow and deliberate manner that Duscha's moan sounded more like she was being tortured than pleasured. Zhi sat back for a moment and let her fingers trace around Duscha's crotch, and then leaned in to give a long, slow lick from asshole to clit.
"Oh, God!" Duscha cried out, and then said something in what sounded like Russian. At that point Zhi dove in and began eating out the young girl in front of her.
I lost track of time after that. Renee started kissing me again and while that happened we both worked on getting my clothes off. I licked and sucked one of Renee's nipples, my tongue flicking over the skin as my hand caressed and tweaked the other one. She turned us over and licked down my left side until she got to my foot, which she bathed with her tongue, and after giving the other one the same treatment she licked up the inside of my leg to my sex. I anticipated her tongue so much there I could almost feel it as she locked eyes with me. Renee leaned down and pressed her lips to my mound, kissing it as she gave a moan that sent vibrations through my entire body.
Renee was easily the best lover I'd ever had. In that night alone she discovered all of my sensitive spots - behind my ears, my armpits, my toes and even the line where my leg met my hip right above my crotch. Renee's tongue danced over my nether lips so well that I was crying and screaming. At that moment, if she had asked me to go out and rob a bank for her to continue, I probably would have done it. When I cried out "Oh yeah!" as her tongue moved down and touched my rosebud, I noticed the look in her eyes and the grin on her face. She knew she had my weakness. Renee took a break from my pussy and gave me the best rim job I'd ever experienced. The music had changed and "Six Underground" by The Sneaker Pimps was playing.
I looked at what was happening on the bed. Zhi was on her hands and knees. She had lost her housecoat and thong and I could see the tattoo on her ass was a green colored Chinese character. Duscha was behind Zhi, her hands holding open the Asian woman's ass checks as her tongue worked on Zhi's anus. Zhi's face showed little reaction to what was being done to her, but I had the impression Zhi would look the same way if her arm were being ripped off. Her only indication of pleasure was to make a low moan when she exhaled. And there was something about that subtle gesture that made it twice as sexy as it would have been if she was writhing and screaming. Suddenly Zhi looked up and our eyes met. There was sadness in her stare, and something in the look we exchanged went beyond the sexual acts being performed on us. A recognition of some kind, and suddenly I had the feeling neither of us were very happy people.
Renee crawled up my back and lay down on top of me, kissing along my neckline and then bringing her lips close to my ear.
"Do you feel it now?" she asked.
"Oh yeah," I said, dragging out the last word for way too long. We watched as Zhi turned over and Duscha began eating her pussy. I passed out before Zhi came.
When I woke up it was dark in the room. I was still on the two-person chair and there was a blanket over me. Renee was on the bed, flanked by Zhi and Duscha, all of them asleep. The little white pill was still working it's magic, but I managed to find my clothes without waking anyone and slipped out into the hallway where I got dressed. I went out the front door and started walking. My place was across town and it was three in the morning, but I was feeling very good and it didn't seem like a big deal. When I got to the center of town I looked through all the shop windows as I passed. For some reason I equated it with flipping channels while watching television, checking out each one and moving on.
But looking through the window at a hobby shop stopped me cold in my tracks. They had displays of little model houses and scenes. One of them was a log cabin. Suddenly the numbness in my chest went away and my heart felt hollow. For the first time in several hours Monica's face popped back in my head.
I remembered being blindfolded on the ride. We were in Monica's jeep and it felt like we needed to be. The bumps on the road felt like we were driving over boulders and into depressions bigger than the potholes in Brooklyn. I heard Monica laugh, that sweet childish laugh of hers, and realized she was having fun on this road.
I pointed at the blindfold. "Is this because I always complain about your driving?"
"Nooo, silly. There's a surprise."
I grabbed at the dashboard as we rose and then dropped. "I'll be surprised enough if we survive the trip."
Monica laughed again. A little while later we stopped, but I wasn't sure if it was because she hit the brakes or we were stuck. I heard Monica open her door and get out. "Hey!" I said, but there was no response. I was about to peek out of the blindfold when my door opened.
"No peeking!" Monica said as she slapped my hand away. She assisted me out of the jeep and led me a few feet until we stopped. Other than the fact that I knew we were outside because I felt the sun on my face I had no clue where we were.
"Stay put for a minute," Monica ordered. I heard some kind of rustling nearby. A bird chirped and then there was a kind of swooshing sound. I was really confused.
"Okay," Monica called out from what sounded like a few yards behind me. "You can take it off now."
I slid the cloth from my eyes and what I saw took my breath away. We must have been on the side of a mountain because I could see a valley below and other mountains off in the distance. It was one of the most beautiful vistas I'd ever seen. Most of the valley was full of trees and the majestic mountain range beyond looked untouched by human hands. "Wow," I simply stated.
Monica said, "If you think that's cool, check out what's behind you."
I turned. It was a small log cabin with a stone chimney and a large porch with two rocking chairs sitting on it. The cabin sat near the middle of a small grass clearing surrounded by trees, and behind the cabin it looked like the hill sloped up another half a mile to the top of the mountain. Monica stood in front of the cabin, stark naked except for a waist chain and an anklet. She held her arms up high. "Isn't it fantastic?" she yelled.
I walked over to her. "What is this place?"
"My uncle owns it. Well, the cabin and some of the land around it." She put her arms around me and gave me a kiss. "Just think," she said when she broke the kiss. "You and me here for eight days, far away from civilization. No need for clothes. We can have sex anywhere we want. And there's a lake down the path over there."
"Mmm," I said. "Skinny dipping."
"Only one problem," she said. "You've still got your clothes on."
"Maybe you can rip them off for me."
"Or maybe you'll struggle out of them trying to catch up to me." Monica pushed me away and ran towards the path. I started taking off my clothes as I ran after her. It wasn't much of a struggle since I was wearing slides that I jumped out of when I started running, my top came off in one smooth movement and I pulled my underwear down along with my shorts. A quick stop as I jumped out of them and then kept going as I started to get my bra off. When I saw the lake up ahead I picked up speed. As I passed Monica I tossed my bra in her face and said, "Get those chubby legs moving!"
"I do not have chubby legs!" Monica yelled. I ran into the water and threw my body below the surface before my body registered how cold it was. When I came up I didn't see Monica anywhere and called out her name. Suddenly I felt hands on my feet and I was pulled under. As she rose up past me, Monica pinched my nipples and stuck her tongue out.
When I broke the surface of the water Monica said, "That was for saying my legs are chubby."
"You're right. They're not chubby. In fact, they're so thin I'm surprised they're keeping you up right now."
Monica splashed at me. I splashed back and we chased each other in the water for a while. I finally caught up to her and when she turned around we began to kiss. Her mouth and tongue felt warm against mine and the chill of the water lost its effect on me. Our arms encircled each other and we held on tight, pressing our bodies together. At times it was hard keeping the kiss going since one of us would slow down our kicking and start to sink. We broke the kiss laughing.
"This looks so much easier in the movies," Monica said.
I smiled. "I think they're usually closer to shore where you can stand."
Monica gave a wry look and with sarcasm dripping from her voice said, "Wow, you're smart."
"One of us has to be."
Monica splashed me again as we moved to where we could stand. As we resumed the kiss Monica's hands slid down my back and gripped the cheeks of my ass, giving gentle squeezes and making me moan in her mouth every time she did it. I did the same and she started moaning too. We started out alternating our moans, and then we began to moan at the same time, which made us laugh.
I said, "We should start our own choir."
Monica threw her head back and laughed. She was so sexy when she did that. When Monica laughed it was like she did it with her whole body and soul. As she stopped, her head came back to face mine and there was lust in her eyes.
"It's time for a solo performance," Monica said, just before she leaned down and started licking the skin on my right breast. Slowly she moved in towards the areola, rubbing her nose against it at first, teasing me to the point of begging. Finally she began licking the nipple, making me gasp. While she did this, Monica's hands slid over my belly where they moved in slow little circles, making their way down to my mound. Her fingers slid between my legs and started rubbing back and forth as her lips began sucking hard on my nipple. I ran one hand along Monica's back as the other ran through her curly auburn hair, sometimes twirling one of her ringlets on a finger. This might have inspired her, because one of Monica's fingers slid further between my lips until it came to my hole, curled and pressed up inside of me. I let out the oddest sound, something that I can best describe as a stuttered moan with a little bit of gurgle in there for good measure. It didn't seem to break Monica's concentration, she moved to the other nipple and started licking while her finger slowly moved in and out of me. The licking turned to sucking and she slowly picked up the pace. I spread my legs wider, which brought us both lower into the water.
"As much...as I'm enjoying this," I managed to say, "I think we should take this to the shore before we drown."
Monica separated her lips from my nipple and looked up at me. "You've got no sense of priorities."
We laughed and I chased her out of the water. When she stopped and turned, I grabbed her waist and brought us both down on the grass. There was a little scrambling around, and some tickling, but when it was over I was lying on my back and Monica straddled my hips. Her hands disappeared behind her and suddenly I felt where they went.
"Now, where was I?" she said.
"Uh, right about there," I groaned.
Monica's fingers slid up and down my lower lips and I let out a few gasps until she moved up to my clit. That's when my mouth dropped open and I let out a sigh. Her fingers danced and brought me to the edge and back down again. The look on Monica's face told me she enjoyed being in control of my pleasure. She brought her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes as she sucked my honey. Then she leaned down and kissed me, sharing the taste of her work. When the kiss ended she held her face in front of mine and looked deep into my eyes.
"Do you want it?" she said.
I didn't have to ask what she meant. "Yes."
Monica's fingers touched my face. "From anyone?"
"I can get it from anyone," I said. "But it wouldn't feel the same as when I get it from you."
Monica leaned down and started kissing my neck. I let out a low moan, encouraging her. She licked up and down, causing me to close my eyes and shudder. Her tongue moved to my throat and licked up to my chin and back down again. I felt kisses moving straight down my chest, past my breasts and over my belly button, until they stopped just above my mound. I spread my legs and gave her access to my most private area, a physical sign of my trust in her. Monica's fingers lightly traced the folds of my flower, and my breathing pattern changed involuntarily. The moment her tongue touched my clit I felt a warmth that comforted my very soul. Monica licked my button as her fingers continued to play. I opened my eyes and looked around at the green of the trees and the blue of the sky. I felt the breeze on my body and the grass on my back. There was life all around me. Monica slid a finger inside me and started pumping it slowly, and I felt that spiraling buildup of pleasure. I heard birds chirping and felt the warmth of the setting sun. Monica added another finger as she began to suck on my clit. My eyes looked into the sky above and it seemed like I was falling into it. The speed of Monica's fingers increased as she alternated between licking and sucking. I felt the muscles in my legs start to tense up and my back arched as I let out several loud moans. Monica struggled to keep her place as my body moved with the physical sensations that overtook me. I screamed. Suddenly I shut my eyes and closed off the world. My breathing stopped. I couldn't hear anything. I was immersed in pleasure.
I felt pressure on top of me and opened my eyes. Monica was lying on top of me. "Was that special?" she asked.
"More than you'll ever know."
We kissed with passion and need and lust. My fingers went between her legs and found her clit. I started rubbing it and felt Monica moan in my mouth. Her hand covered my left breast and squeezed. I kept fingering her clit, moving up and down lightly. We kept the kiss going, our tongues alternating between fierce dueling and slow tenderness. My finger felt her wetness, lubricating my action and giving me confidence in my abilities. I pressed down on her clit, rubbed some more, tapped it several times, rubbed some more, and started the whole cycle over again. I knew she was on the edge when her body tensed. I pinched her clit between my fingers and Monica made a noise. I couldn't tell if it was pleasure or frustration. I increased the speed of my fingers and suddenly Monica's body pressed hard against mine. Her mouth came away from the kiss and she let out a loud moan just before she slumped against me.
As we lay there, spent from our lovemaking, Monica looked over at me and said, "This is going to be perfect."
I couldn't have agreed with her more. There was a surprise I had for Monica, and I'd been waiting for the right moment to spring it on her. Actually I'd been procrastinating, unsure if it was too soon and too much all at once. But up there, in that setting, seemed like a perfect time.
It was around four in the morning when I got back to my building. Monica was still on my mind, but it didn't hurt as much as it did when I ran out hours earlier. The little white pill had done its job. I would need more of them, and I had a feeling Renee would give me what I needed. The only question was what she wanted in return.
I turned to walk up the front steps of my building when I heard his voice.
"Hello my little homo niglet."
It was Ronald, a Nazi skinhead who lived in the building. He stood six feet tall and looked like he could hold his own in a fight. Ronald was leaning against the railing on the stairs, which is where he usually spent time when he wasn't out doing whatever Nazi skinheads do. Next to him was Tim, Ronald's short and stocky sidekick. I kept walking towards the door and tried to ignore their taunting.
"What? No smart-assed comeback from the monkey dyke?" Tim said.
"She's not so brave when her girlfriend's not around." I felt the sorrow starting to rise from the pit of my stomach when he brought up Monica.
Tim smiled. "Yeah, where is that cute piece of ass anyway?"
I was just passing in front of Ronald when he gave his response. "Where she belongs, six feet under ground."
I stopped and stared at him. He held my gaze as the corners of his mouth rose into a smile. Anger raced past sorrow as I balled up my fist and hit Ronald in the chest. His smile dropped and he looked down at where I'd hit him and put his hand over the spot. He looked back up at me. "Ouch."
He started laughing and Tim laughed along with him. Ronald scared me, but Tim just made me angry beyond words. He had this baby face that made me think about some mother somewhere who loved this guy. I just turned and went inside.
I managed to calm myself by the time I got upstairs. The little white pill was still having an effect on me, and the rush of emotion during my confrontation with Ronald seemed to increase it. I walked into my place and went straight for the stereo. At first I was going to put on one of my CD's, maybe some Portishead or Faithless, but then I looked at the collection of records I'd inherited from my father.
Soon the funky sounds of Parliament filled the room. My dad had been a studio musician, and one of the many things he bestowed on me was an appreciation for great music. I became lost in the song, the familiar beats soothing my muscles and the singing speaking to me like a good friend. My body swayed and moved slowly to the sounds of "All Your Goodies Are Gone", wishing I could live up to the singers' refusal to be blue. As powerful as music can be, sometimes things are easier sung than done.
As I started to twirl I noticed the light on the answering machine was blinking. I danced over to the machine and dipped myself as my finger hit the button. Baked Bob's voice spoke over the music and I went over to the couch and plopped down.
"Hey Keish. Listen, I think I gave you some bad advice before. I really don't think you should go see that Renee chick, she can be trouble sometimes. I don't know what the hell I was thinking sending you to her. I mean, you wanted some stuff and I didn't have any...by the way I finally got to smoke cause Leslie took off. She told me I was acting weird. Fucking woman's insane and she calls me weird, go figure. Anyway, once I got my head straight I remembered that I sent you Renee's way, and trust me that wasn't cool on my part. Just give me a call and I'll hook you up. I'm guessing you want to get your mind off of Monica for a while and that's cool, I can understand that. Later."
The very second the message ended, the phone rang. It scared the shit out of me and I jumped back. I was almost afraid to pick it up. Finally I did.
"Keisha?"
I sighed. "What is it Andy? It's late."
"I need to talk to you about before. I had a vision," he said. "It happened today, at the funeral, right when you were standing over Monica's coffin. I saw you in a hallway, or maybe in a house, walking up some stairs with a girl who had blonde hair. I couldn't make out much about her, but I could tell that you cared about her a lot. All of a sudden she was shot. And then you were kneeling, holding her body and crying, telling her you loved her." Andy paused for breath, his words just spilling out of him all at once. I sat there stunned at what he had told me.
"Andy...what...what the fuck?"
He paused for a moment and said, "I think what happened with Monica...it's going to happen to you again."
I slammed the phone down. Suddenly I wasn't so relaxed anymore. I got up and started pacing, which is what I do when I get nervous. My eyes caught the picture of Monica and me at the cabin. I felt pressure in my chest, almost like the sorrow in my heart was going to crush my insides. The thought of going through all this again was unbearable.
That went on for about ten minutes. But then I stopped and looked at the picture of my dad, which reminded me of what I believed - that our destinies are not so predetermined that someone else can predict them. I sat down and my nerves eased up, my mind calmed down and my body started to relax again. No, Andy was wrong. Maybe he gets visions, maybe he can see one possible future, but that doesn't mean it's definitely what's going to happen. Fuck that. And fuck Andy too. I'm sure his powers are not as sharp as he makes them out to be.
With that thought I looked at the answering machine and realized something. Bob wanted to talk to me really bad, but all he could do was leave a message, because he didn't know what time I'd be home. Yet it was four in the morning, and Andy just happened to call five minutes after I walked through the door?
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