I’m trying to branch off into fiction. This is a later chapter in the same story I called Elevator Fiction last year.
Karen stopped in the teacher’s lounge to freshen her make-up before meeting the others for happy hour. This was going to be an adventure, showing up at Shogun’s, the favorite bar of Marty and the other young-ish teachers who seemed to be the ones at school that Karen could still identify with after Daniel left her and she received her promotion to assistant principal.
She took a moment to examine herself from head to toe, even peering over her shoulder to glimpse her ass in the mirror — still good and round, she thought; the linen slacks rested lightly on her ass, accenting the curve where she imagined somebody’s hand resting lightly, appreciatively. She turned back around and watched her own eyes as she playfully cupped her breasts and put on a smile; she couldn’t help laughing at herself. Yeah, she thought; it’s Friday night, I’m going to be surrounded by young guys like Marty and Steve, and maybe even D’Shawn — he’s single, right? Maybe I’ll just take one of those baby boys home with me.
She was feeling cocky. Somewhere between Ralph and Jimmy, Karen had started to feel she deserved to think of herself as sexy for the first time since before she was married.
She held her hands at her sides and appraised herself in the mirror, then pulled her sweater over her head and took off her shirt before pulling the sweater back on, leaving nothing under it except the soft bra; she checked in the mirror before she headed out, confirming that the nipples could be made out under the baby-blue cashmere. But just barely; she was a lady after all.
She felt brazen and sexy as she walked into Shogun’s, smiling, greeting the others with light hugs, brushing the cheeks of the men with her lips, chattering for a moment with everyone. But within 20 minutes, she felt lost, and was starting to feel like she’d made a mistake. Marty had given her a hug and said, “Hey sexy lady” to her, but after a few passes at conversation, he and the others seemed to have abandoned her for people their own ages, and Karen had to order her second round alone, trying to look like she wasn’t lonesome. Maybe she’d misread the signals; maybe she wasn’t so tight with her new friends after all.
She looked around at the others, plugged into animated discussions with each other; Marty was talking to two girls, one blonde, one black, and Karen thought he’d gestured at her. She waved weakly and turned back to the bar. This was mortifying. She wondered if he was saying something like, “She’s the cool older lady who came out to the bar with us….” Like somebody’s aunt.
And then Karen saw in the mirror that the trio broke up; Marty and the blonde found a table and the young black girl walked in Karen’s direction and she saw that the girl was coming straight toward her. Oh my god, Karen thought, what did he say about me?
The girl sat in the stool next to Karen and put her drink on the bar and held out her hand. “I’m Gabrielle,” she said. Karen took her hand lightly, and Gabrielle said. “Marty told me you’re looking for a tenant.”
“Well, I am,” Karen said, realizing with relief that Marty had only been discussing the possible living arrangement. With Jimmy gone, she did need help with the mortgage. Karen looked the girl over. She looked maybe 25, with long silky black braids woven into her hair and pulled back and tied behind her neck. She wore jeans with a bright striped top, and pearl posts in her ears– two pearls in one ear, and a line of three in the other. She looked prosperous enough to afford to cover the rent.
Karen asked a few questions to get an idea of her financial situation, and she learned a lot. She was working at the school as an admin while she studied art at the University, and needed a place because she’d just broken up with her live-in boyfriend and was staying with friends until she found a place.
“I’d better find one soon,” she said. “I think they want their privacy back.”
“Privacy,” Karen said.
“I think Rick and Abby are used to a lot of shouting and screaming. Without company,” she said, and her eyes looked Asian as she laughed. Karen liked her.
They ordered refills and Karen retold the saga of the way Jimmy had walked out; Gabrielle filled in details of how she’d split with her boyfriend, Jordan. Karen felt the first flush of intoxication as they laughed, and then at one point, she couldn’t tell if it was her imagination that Gabrielle’s eyes rested for a moment on the points of her breasts that she’d so purposefully left visible with a fantasy of drawing the attention of Marty or Steve or D’Shawn.
Involuntarily, her arms crossed in front of her chest as they talked. They ordered drinks again and swapped stories of old roommates, their likes and dislikes, the living arrangements they were happy with, and that led back to the house Karen was looking to share, and she said, “Let’s talk tomorrow. You should come by and look at the place.”
Gabrielle nodded and smiled. “But you’re not here to find a tenant, are you?” she said, casting her eyes around the bar. “It’s Friday night, you’re looking for some…”
Karen protested. “I just wanted to see my friends.”
“You’ve been separated how long?” Gabrielle squinted slyly at her. “Don’t tell me you’d turn down a massage and some love.”
“Not looking for love honestly,” Karen said. “But if we’re talking massage…” She laughed. “But seriously, I don’t think I’m in the right place for meeting someone.”
“Why not, you’re a pretty girl,” Gabrielle said with a tease in her voice, and Karen was surprised to realize she appreciated the compliment.
Gabrielle motioned to the bartender for a refill and said cheerfully, “Let’s find you a dude.” She looked around the room and nodded toward a tall, skinny blond boy in a Bull Dogs sweat shirt. “Feel like having some spring chicken?”
“A little young,” Karen said, laughing.
“Okay, how about that?” She said quietly as the bartender, having refreshed their drinks, walked away. Karen had already noticed his short hair and goatee and tattooed sleeves up both arms.
“No,” Karen said firmly, and looked pointedly at a guy in his late twenties in a tweed jacket; he might have been the only man in the place wearing a tie. “Now that one…” she said.
“Oh, you’re looking for a professor.”
“I’m not sure I’m looking for anything tonight. If so, I’m not seeing it yet.”
“Nothing on the menu for you baby?” Gabrielle said with that same teasing tone. “Or are you just cold-hearted?” They were on their third drink since Gabrielle had sat beside her, and Karen was almost embarrassed to find herself captivated by the girl’s dark skin, full lips, large dark curious eyes complemented by the lower lip that pushed out slightly to suggest petulance, or maybe determination.
Karen looked at Gabrielle’s face in the mirror behind the bar. She knew she was drunk, and she felt her breath changing; she said, “These guys…” back-sweeping her hand toward the room behind her. “Meh.”
The girl’s eyes went wickedly Asian again when she laughed and said, “Okay, to heck with it.” She looked seriously at Karen in the mirror. “How about a drink at my place? You like tequila?”
Karen hadn’t had tequila in years. “Sure, who doesn’t?” she said.
“I’ll make you a Margarita and see if we can forget about Jimmy and Jordan and the rest of these losers. Who needs them?”
Karen knew what they were doing now and she felt like bravely taking a dive off the deep end, and admitted, “I’d have a drink,” and then felt suddenly afraid. She tried to reverse herself. “Just a drink, you know. I don’t mean…”
She trailed off and Gabrielle raised an eyebrow as she watched Karen’s face, considering.
“Don’t mean what, sugar?”
“I don’t want…” Karen couldn’t complete the sentence.
“All right,” Gabrielle said, taking Karen’s hand and squeezing lightly before releasing it and stepping back. “If you don’t want, then don’t,” she said and stood up. “I see how pretty white girls are,” she said. “It’s all right.” Her expression was open as she turned and stepped toward the door. “Coming along?” she asked over her shoulder, just barely loud enough for Karen to hear.
Karen came along.
Gabrielle’s apartment was dark, and she lit a single lamp in the corner of the living room. It smelled lightly of patchouli, and Gabrielle left Karen to shuffle through the CD collection while she mixed drinks. She came up behind Karen and put a glass in her hand. Karen could almost feel the girl’s warmth next to her as she tasted the tequila, lime, and salt. “Yes,” she said. “You can make a Margarita all right.
She tried to stay calm as she shuffled through the CD collection without paying much attention to the names that she didn’t recognize. She felt Gabrielle’s presence close like a shadow behind her, seconds before Gabrielle leaned into her and put one hand lightly on Karen’s hip.
Karen jumped. “What are you doing?” she said in a voice that came out higher-pitched than she planned.
“Touching you,” Gabrielle said. “I want to see if you feel as cold as you try to look.”
“Cold?” Karen knew she was holding back because her head was spinning and she was confused, but she didn’t like coming off as “cold.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she said, flustered.
“That’s okay, pretty girl,” Gabrielle said quietly behind her. “I can take care of you.”
Karen turned to face Gabrielle, who took her time moving closer, resting her softly-rounded belly against Karen’s, and waiting a few seconds before she reached to push the hair away from Karen’s face, and kiss her with soft, wide lips. She tasted lightly of tequila, and her tongue came inside, and Karen was surprised that her own tongue reciprocated, exploring Gabrielle’s lips, playing with her tongue. When Gabrielle took her hand, Karen twined her pale fingers with Gabrielle’s dark fingers, and the sight made her suddenly hungry, and she almost dove at Gabrielle; their teeth touched and wet tongues slid against each other, and she felt Gabrielle’s breasts touching hers through their blouses and bras.
This is happening, Karen thought, and she didn’t resist when Gabrielle led her to the couch and pushed her down. Gabrielle kissed her again, barely brushing Karen’s breast before she dropped to her knees in front of the couch. “I know what you want,” the black girl said.
How could she, Karen wondered, shaking her head. “How can you know,” she said. “When I don’t know what I want, myself?”
“I’ll show you,” Gabrielle said. She rested her hands on Karen’s knees to lean forward and kiss her cheek, her neck, her collarbone, before dropping back on her haunches.
“Don’t be afraid, pretty lady,” Gabrielle said. “Let me show you.” Her dark fingers rested lightly on the waistband of Karen’s slacks for a moment, and Karen wanted to object, but couldn’t make words come out of her mouth. She watched, almost paralyzed, as the strong fingers pried the button free and slid the zipper down, parting the fly so that Karen felt suddenly naked and exposed in a way she’d never felt. Gabrielle’s eyes took in the beige flesh and looked up smiling into Karen’s eyes before she bent to press a light kiss on the fabric of Karen’s blue panties. The sudden desire Karen felt was like nothing she could have imagined–the beauty of the girl presenting herself to serve her pleasure.
Gabrielle kissed again, touching her lips repeatedly along the waistband of the panties before kissing and lightly tasting the flesh of Karen’s belly. It felt like Gabrielle had found sweet nerves in her skin that Karen didn’t even know were there.
As Gabrielle peeled back the linen slacks and tugged them gently down her thighs, Karen felt another layer of skin, another layer of her soul, peeling back at the same time. When Gabrielle had freed her from the slacks, pulling them free of the feet, dropping them in a heap next to the couch, she rested her hands lightly on the insides of Karen’s thighs, pressing them gently apart. Karen felt the self she knew dissolving into mindless pleasure and desire.
Gabrielle’s lips felt like sparks on Karen’s skin, and then the fingers moved to pull the waistband of Karen’s panties down her hips, thighs, ankles, and away, before Gabrielle kissed Karen full on the fur of her mound. Karen heard her draw a deep breath through her nose before she sighed, “You’re sweet, pretty girl. Your sweet, pretty pussy…,” and touched Karen’s cunt-lips with her tongue. “I’m going to feast on you, pretty girl,” she said. “I’m going to eat you like a cake, baby.” She crooked her neck so her tongue could reach the folds around Karen’s pussy.
So soft, was all Karen could think. Like silk. The tingle started slowly as she felt Gabrielle’s tongue on the lips down there, sliding up, teasing almost up to her clit, then beginning again at the bottom, loving her, enjoying her like a curious, hungry kitten. Karen touched Gabrielle’s hair, surprised by the texture, and her fingers twined into the coarse kinks and unthinkingly took a grip as the head moved up and down, pleasuring her so softly she wanted to stop breathing.
Gabrielle’s hand s rested lightly on Karen’s thighs, stroking the skin softly as she continued eating her, and her expert tongue brought Karen to a climax, bucking up against Gabrielle’s face, lifting her legs to cross her ankles behind Gabrielle’s head, panting and huffing until she was exhausted and her clit was swollen and tender.
After her breath had returned and Gabrielle was next to her on the couch, Karen let herself go the rest of the way. A tentative touch to the girl’s clothed breast, then the slow undressing, kissing the creases between the pushed up mounds of her breasts, sucking the pointed nipples, the surprising joy when she sensed she was giving Gabrielle pleasure – there was something different, deeper, calmer than the satisfaction of pleasuring a man.
Her hand went lower and her finger found wetness, and she hurriedly tugged Gabrielle’s jeans off of her and pulled the panties off and flung them aside as quickly as possible to feed her desire to taste, to suck, to give the girl pleasure as fine as that she’d received.
Oh, she never thought she’d taste this. She found Gabrielle’s hand and held it tenderly as she dove in again, dragging her tongue deeply between the pink lips, the brown flesh, accepting the surprising scratch against her lips and cheek, the hard black hairs that crinkling across Gabrielle’s mound. She accepted the wet, slippery taste and fragrance that was like something she couldn’t name, like salted animal flesh, dark cellars, and shame and joy.
The thought occurred to her: What if Daniel could see her? Would he still say she was an ice-queen?
She bent close again, pushed her tongue deep into the black girl’s cunt, wrapped her lips around the clit and sucked, playing at the pink pearl with her tongue. “Oh my god, girl,” Gabrielle almost shrieked. “You’re learning fast, baby,” and Karen took pleasure in Gabrielle’s praise.
She did everything she could imagine; she tickled tickling Gabrielle’s clit with her tongue while a finger, then two fingers, slid in and out of the wet hole. The aroma of Gabrielle’s pussy became stronger as she approached her orgasm. Karen turned the two fingers to curl up and pump Gabrielle’s g-spot while she sucked on the clit, and Gabrielle’s hard breath turned high-pitched whine. “You, you, you,” she uttered, touching Karen’s cheek and pumping her mound up to Karen’s face. “Ohhhhh,” turned into a long groan, and Karen let her rub her wet pussy against her face roughly as she held Karen’s head against her and slid the wet cunt juice across her mouth and chin. Gabrielle came hard, and Karen was proud. She did her best to work her lips and tongue on Gabrielle’s clit until she finally slowed, spent and ready for a break.
Gabrielle tugged Karen’s face up to hers and wiped with the sheet before she kissed Karen softly on the lips. “Oh baby,” she purred. “Oh sweet honey girl, you’re just honey, to make mama feel like this.”
Karen was proud.
They didn’t say much more that night; they showered and went to bed together to watch an online movie about two Australian women until they dropped to sleep, and when Karen woke up, she was surprised to see her fingers resting on Gabrielle’s soft breast. It was sweet sight to her for some reason, and she had a vague memory of peaceful childhood moments, and she floated in that the quiet space, taking in the smell of Gabrielle’s skin, the smell of Gabrielle’s cunt on her fingertips. It was strange and unfamiliar, but she lay contentedly for a while, feeling Gabrielle’s breath rise and fall softly, before she rose and dressed quietly so as not to wake Gabrielle.
She was almost singing to herself as she got into her car. She thought she’d be back, but right then she didn’t feel up to talking to Gabrielle or anyone else. She wanted to drive by herself, listen to CDs, revel in the sense that she’d left the world she knew, and was exploring unknown places, exciting places. Places where anything could happen.