JENNIE
I looked at my reflection in the mirror, trying to look objectively. When I was a kid, especially in those charming early-teen years, I used to see myself very differently. I saw dishwater-blond hair and pale, uninteresting skin. I saw flat green eyes and knobby knees that bisected skinny, bird-like legs. I saw a slightly upturned nose and a bottom lip that looked like I might trip over it if I wasn't too careful.
When I was fifteen, one afternoon my grandmother told me she thought the pink dress I was wearing looked nice against my skin. I scoffed and immediately disagreed with her. "Thanks, Grandma, but I got about three hours of sleep last night, and the last thing I look today is nice. Tired and pale, but not nice."
I rolled my eyes in that way teenage girls do, and she reached for my hand.
"Always take a compliment, Jennie. Always take it for the way it was intended. You girls are always so quick to twist what others say. Simply say thank you and move on." She smiled in that quiet and wise way she had.
"Thanks." I smiled back, busying myself with the spaghetti sauce and turning my face so she couldn't see my blush.
"It breaks my heart the way young girls pick themselves over, never thinking they're good enough. You make sure you always remember, you're exactly the way you're supposed to be. Exactly. And anyone who says otherwise, well, poppycock." She giggled, her voice lowering a bit at that last word, the closest she would ever come to swearing. Grandma had a list of bad words and really bad words, and poppycock came close to approaching the latter.
The next day at school I mentioned to a friend that I thought her hair looked great, and her answer was to run her hands through it with disgust.
"Are you kidding? I barely even had time to wash it today."
Even though it did look fantastic.
Later on after gym class, I was changing in the locker room when I observed another friend touching up her lip gloss. "That's pretty. What's the name of that color?" I asked as she pursed her lips in the mirror.
"Apple Tartlet, but it looks terrible on me. God, I have no tan left over from summer!" Grandma was right. Girls really didn't take compliments well. Now, I'm not gonna lie and say after that day I magically had no more bad hair days or never picked the wrong lipstick again. But I did make a conscious effort to see the good before the bad and really look at myself in a more clear way. Objectively. Kindly. And as my body continued to change, I became more and more aware of features I could look at positively instead of negatively. I never thought of myself as lethally gorgeous, but I did clean up well.
And so now, as I stared into the mirror in the bathroom, knowing Lisa was waiting for me, I took the time to take a little inventory.
The dishwater-black hair? Not so much dishwater. It was shiny, a little wavy and curly from the saltwater it had been cooking in all week. The pale skin? Nicely browned up and, dare I say, a little glowy? I winked at myself, holding back a maniacal giggle. My mouth had that slightly pouty lower lip, just full enough to trap me some Lisa and not let her go. And the legs I saw peeking from below the lace just covering my thighs? Well, not so bird-like anymore. In fact, I think they were going to look pretty spectacular wrapping around Lisa's…whatever I felt like wrapping them around.
And so, as I smoothed my hair once more and mentally ran through all my internal checklists, I was wildly excited about the night ahead. We'd raced back to the house, practically disrobed each other in the entryway, and after begging a few moments of girl time, I was now ready to go out and claim my Lisa. Because who was kidding who? I wanted this one. Wanted her for my own, and did not, would not, share her with anyone else.
Brain for once was finally in agreement with LC. Especially since she'd crawled up Backbone and slapped Brain right in the stem, telling her in that special way only she could that we needed this. We deserved this, and we were ready. Nerves, well, they continued to circle in my tummy, but that was to be expected, right? I mean, it had been a long, long time, and a little bit of nerves was normal, I expect. Had I been stalling all week?
Maybe.
Kind of.
A little.
Lisa had been more than patient, content to take things slow, at my pace, but for crying out loud, she was only human.
I was adamant that Nerves not be allowed to turn another Spanish night into the land of cuddle and coo. I turned in the mirror, trying to see myself as Lisa might see me. I smiled in what I thought was a seductive way, flipped off the light, took one more deep breath, and opened the door.
The bedroom had been transformed into something from a fairy tale. Candles flickered on the dresser and nightstands, bathing the room in a warm glow. The windows were open, as well as the door to the little balcony overlooking the sea, and I could hear the waves crashing, romance-novel style. And there she stood: hair tousled, body strong, eyes blazing.
I watched as she took me in, dragging her gaze down my body and back, a smile spreading across her face as she appraised my outfit of choice.
"Mmm, there's my Pink Nightie Girl," she sighed, holding out her hand. And when I stalled for just the tiniest second, Backbone picked up my hand and gave it to her.
We stood in the darkened room, a few feet apart but connected by our woven fingers. I could feel the rough texture of her thumb as she traced circles on the inside of my hand, the same circles she'd traced weeks and weeks before when I began to fall under her spell. Our eyes full of each other, she took a deep breath.
"It's criminal how good you look in that," she said, drawing me toward her and giving me a little spin so she could better see the pink baby doll nightie. As she spun me, the lacey edges flipped up just a little, showing off the accompanying ruffled panties. A low noise sounded in her throat, and if I wasn't mistaken, it was a growl? Damn…
She spun me back closer, grasping my hips and pressing me against her, my breasts crushing into her chest. She placed a tiny kiss below my ear, letting me feel just the tip of her tongue.
"So there are some things I need you to understand," she murmured, nuzzling with her nose, her hands brushing up under my nightie to fluff my ruffles and grab a handful of backside, catching me by surprise. I gasped.
"You listening? Don't get distracted on me now," she whispered again, flattening out her tongue and dragging it up the side of my neck.
"It's kind of hard to focus with your distraction poking me in the thigh," I groaned, letting her bend me backward just enough so that my entire lower body was pressed against her, her hard places perfectly content to mold my soft places around them. she chuckled against my neck, now dotting my collarbone with her trademarked baby kisses.
"Here's what you need to know. One, you're amazing," she said, her hands now traveling up to the small of my back, fingers and thumbs massaging and manipulating. "Two, you're amazingly sexy," she breathed.
My hands now hurriedly unbuttoned her shirt, pushing it back off her shoulders as our pace began to transition from slow and easy to fast and frantic. Now her hands were sneaking around front, her nails lightly scraping along my tummy, lifting my nightie so we were skin to skin, nothing left between us. I ran my hands up and down her back, my nails much more aggressive, digging in and anchoring her against me.
"And three, as amazingly sexy as this pink nightie is, the only thing I want to see for the rest of this night is my Sweet Jennie, and I need to see you." She panted in my ear as she picked me up, straight up, and my right leg went around her waist on its own.
Once again, the Universal Law of Wall banger dictated that legs went around hips when they were offered.
She walked me backward to the bed and set me down gently. Leaning over, she pushed me backward on to my elbows. Shirt hanging down off her shoulders, she winked at me, nodding at her state of undress. I reached forward, crooked one finger behind the button on her khakis, and snapped it open. Seeing no peek of boxers, I gently nudged her zipper down just an inch or so, exposing the happy trail that led down, down, down to where all good things were found. Sweet mother of pearl. Commando.
"You got something against underpants?" I whispered, raising one knee and forcing her between my hips. Forcing. Right.
"I'm against your underpants, and isn't it a shame they're still there?" she smirked, pushing her hips into me, letting me feel everything.
I dropped my head back, silently pushing down Nerves when she threatened to bubble up just a smidge. Piss off, Nerves. This was happening.
"No shame. I have a feeling they won't be on for long." I sighed, laying back to stretch my arms over my head, lengthening my body against her and encouraging her lips to further dance along the hollow at the base of my collarbone. I could feel her licking and sucking between my breasts. I arched into her, anxious to feel more. I needed more. She began peeling the straps of my nightie down, baring me and allowing her the access she needed to make me orbit the planet.
Feeling her mouth on me, on my breasts, hot and wet, tickling and sloppy, was unreal. So I told her so.
"That feels unreal," I moaned in to the top of her head. Her lips closed around my right nipple, and my hips went off on a tangent of their own, bucking wildly beneath her, both of my legs now wrapped firmly around her waist. Lips and tongue and teeth now lavished across my cleavage, which spilled out over the edge of the nightie as she alternated between breasts, loving them equally. I was surrounded by Lisa, and even her scent was turning me on, equal parts peppery spice and thick Spanish brandy.
Nonsensical words poured from my mouth. I was aware of a few "Lisas," and one or two, "Yes, that's good," but mostly what I overheard from myself were things like "Mmph," and "Erghh," and a rather loud "Hyyyyaeahhh," for which, frankly, there is not a correct spelling.
Lisa sighed over and over again in to my skin, her actual breath a turn on as I felt it wash over me. My hands had been left free to roam in the wonderland that was her hair, and as I swept it back from her face I was rewarded with the amazing sight of her mouth on me, her eyes closed in clear worship. She bit down lightly, closing her teeth around my sensitive skin, and my hands almost tore the hair from her head. It felt phenomenal.
Her other hand was running up and down my leg, encouraging me to grasp her tighter between my thighs as her wondrous fingers began to come ever closer to the edge of the lace. It was the last boundary we had yet to cross: the lace frontier.
I felt my breathing still as she went on final approach, her fingers brushing just under the edge of my panties, barely brushing. Her breathing slowed as well, and as she continued to touch me gently, her face came back up to mine, and we had this moment, this quiet moment, where we just…stared. Awe—it's the only way I can describe the feeling of her hand ghosting over me, delicately, reverently. Our eyes locked as she eased her hand further underneath the lace and then, with achingly perfect precision, she touched me.
My eyes fluttered shut, my entire body awash with so many sensations. My breathing started back up again, the intense pressure that had been circling all around and inside and out was now like a low-level hum, just beneath the surface of my skin. I moved with her, feeling her fingers begin to explore me, and I let out the tiniest moan. It was all I could let out. The feelings were so intense and the energy—oh my goodness, the energy that surrounded us in that moment.
I was sure Lisa was unaware of the entirety of the emotion that flew around behind my closed eyelids. The poor man was just finally getting a little touch. But as her fingers became more deft and sure of themselves, something incredible began to happen. That teeny tiny little bundle of nerves, which had been dormant for centuries, began to spark to life. My eyes flew open as a very specific warmth began to move through me, starting at the center of my being and working its way out.
Lisa was most certainly enjoying this. Her eyes were hazy and crowded with lust as I writhed underneath her. I knew she could feel me tense and come alive.
"God, Jennie, you're so…you're beautiful," she murmured, her eyes now crowding with something a bit more than lust, and I felt tiny pinpricks behind my eyeballs.
I threw my arms around her neck and held her close, tearing at her shirt to get it off, get it off her so I could feel everything. She lifted herself from me for only seconds, ripping off her shirt in an exaggerated way that made me giggle but yearn for her even more.
Lowering herself back on to me, she slipped further down, her lips tracing a path down to my belly button. Circling it with her tongue, she laughed into my tummy.
"What are you laughing at, missy?" I giggled, squeezing her ear. She was below the nightie now, her face hidden from me. Poking her head back out, she let loose a slow grin that made my toes point.
"If your belly button tastes this good—fuck, Jennie. I can't wait to taste your pussy." There are certain things a woman needs to hear at different times in her life: You got the job.
Your ass looks great in that skirt.
I would love to meet your mother.
And when used in the just the right context, in just the right setting, sometimes, a woman needs to hear the P-word.
This could be better than Clooney.
The moan that came out of my mouth when she said that word, well, let's just say it was loud enough to wake the dead. She let her tongue trace a path from my belly button down to the edge of my ruffles, and then with loving precision, she hooked her thumbs underneath the lace and dragged them down my legs.
There I was, spread out on top of pillowTown with a pink nightie bunched up around my midriff, all pertinent parts on display, and damn happy about it. she pulled my hips just to the edge of the bed and dropped to her knees. Sweet Jesus.
As she ran her hands up and down the tops of my legs, I lifted up on my elbows so I could watch, needing to see this wonderful person tending to me, taking care of me. Kneeling between my thighs, with her khakis unbuckled and halfway unzipped, hair at atomic heights, she was stunning. And on the move.
Once again letting her tongue lead, she planted open-mouth kisses along the insides of my thighs, one side and then the other, with each pass getting closer and closer to where I needed her most. Carefully lifting my left leg, she hitched it over her shoulder as I arched my back, my entire body now aching to feel her.
She gazed at me for a moment longer, maybe even just a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. "Beautiful," she breathed one more time, and then she pressed her mouth to me.
No quick licks, no tiny kisses, just incredible pressure as she surrounded me with her lips. It was enough to make me drop back on the bed, unable to support myself any longer. The feel, the exquisite feel of her was all-consuming, and I could barely breathe. She worked me slow and low, bringing one hand up to open me further to her, letting her mouth and fingers and perfect tongue gently and methodically coax me into the stratosphere, rising up, filling me with the sense of awe and amazement I had been missing for so long.
I allowed one hand to drift down to her and tangle in her hair, running my fingers through it with as much feeling as I could. The other hand?
Useless. It was fisting the sheets into some kind of ball.
She lifted her head from me once, just once, to press another kiss against my thigh. "Perfect. Jesus, just perfect," she whispered, so quietly I could barely hear her over my own sighs and whimpers. She returned to me almost immediately, an urgency now to her movements, her lips and tongue twisting and pressing as she groaned into me, the vibration riding straight through.
I opened my eyes for a second, just a second, and the room was glowing, almost incandescent. All of my senses came alive, and I could hear the crashing of the surf, see the candlelight flickering on our bodies. I could feel my skin break into gooseflesh, the very air caressing me and announcing what I had been missing for months, years even.
This person could very possibly love me. And she was about to bring back the O.
Snapping my eyes closed again, I could almost see myself, standing at the edge of a cliff, staring down into the raging ocean below. Pressure, enormous pressure was building behind me, nudging me toward the edge where I could fall, fall freely into what was waiting for me. I took one step, then another, closer and closer as I could feel Lisa grasping my hips. But wait. If the O was coming for me, I wanted Lisa inside. I needed her inside me.
Tugging on her shoulders, I pulled her up my body, feet kicking at her khakis until they lay defenseless on the floor.
"Lisa, I need, please, inside, now," I panted, almost incoherent with lust. Lisa, schooled in Jennie shorthand, understood this completely and was poised between my legs, hips nuzzled up into mine within seconds. She leaned down, kissing me wantonly, the taste of me all over her.
And I loved it.
"Inside, inside, inside," I kept chanting, my back and hips alternately arching, desperately trying to find what I needed, what I had to have, to push me off that cliff. She left me for only seconds to fumble in her khakis, which I had kicked halfway across the room. The tell tale crinkle let me know that I was safe, that we were safe.
Finally I felt her, exactly where she was meant to be. She barely nudged inside, but just the feeling of her entering me was monumental. My own needs quieted for the moment, and I watched as she began to push into me for the first time. Her eyes bore into mine as I cradled her face in my hands. she looked as though she wanted to say something. What words would we speak, what wonderfully loving things would we say to commemorate this moment?
"Hi," she whispered, smiling as though her life depended on it.
I couldn't help but smile back. "Hi," I answered, loving the feel of her, the weight of her, above me.
She slipped gently into me, and at first my body resisted. It had been a long time, but the little pain I felt was welcome. It was that good kind of pain, a pain that let you know something more was coming. I relaxed a bit, allowing my legs to wrap around her waist, and as she pressed farther into me, her smile became infinitely more sexy. She bit down on her lower lip and tiny frown lines appeared on her forehead. I breathed in, inhaling her scent as I watched her pull back just the smallest bit, only to thrust once more. Now fully inside, I welcomed her the only way I could. I gave her that little internal hug, which made her eyes flash open and peer down at me.
"There's my girl," she murmured, raising one rakish eyebrow and thrusting into me again, with more conviction this time. My breath caught in my throat and I gasped, unwittingly rocking my hips into her with a motion as old as the waves crashing down below.
Slowly she began to move within me, sliding against me with a fantastic pressure, each new angle and sensation giving way to more of that warm tingly feeling working its way out to the tips of each finger and toe. The feeling of having Lisa inside me, inside my body, was more than I can articulate. I groaned, and she grunted. she moaned, and I mewed. Together. Her hips pushed me higher on to the bed, up toward the headboard.
Our bodies were slick with sweat, crashing and smashing into each other. I threaded my hands deeply into her hair, tugging and writhing beneath her.
"Jennie, so beautiful," she sighed between kisses across my forehead and nose.
I closed my eyes and could see myself, once again, on the edge of that cliff, ready to jump, needing to jump. Again, that pressure began to build, that crackle of energy spinning itself wild and frantic, pulsing with every thrust, every slip and dip of her hips into mine, driving her, unrelentingly, in and out of my body.
I took one final step, one foot now dangling off the edge of the cliff, and then! I saw her…O. She was in the water down below, her hair like fire dancing along the waves. She waved and I waved and just like that, Lisa brought one hand down between our bodies, just above where we were joined, and she began to trace her little circles.
Little circles from a perfect hand, and I jumped. I jumped free and clear and loud and proud, announcing my approval with a lusty "Yes!" as I rushed toward that certain high.
And I fell.
And fell.
And fell.
And crashed. Crashed and smacked into the unforgiving surface of the water, and I didn't come up. I fell for what seemed like an age, but instead of O meeting me at the bottom with open arms, I floundered, alone and wet. Every muscle in my body, every cell was concentrated on the return of the O, as if I could will her back. I strained, body tight and taut as I caught sight of her, just the very tips of her hair, like fire under the water, slipping away from me. She was so close, so very close, but no. No.
I scrambled after her, trying with sheer will to make her reappear, but nothing. She was gone, and I was left underwater. With the most beautiful man in the world inside me.
I opened my eyes and saw Lisa above me, saw her beautiful face as she made love to me, and that is what this was. This wasn't sex. This was love, and I still couldn't offer her all that I had. I saw her eyes heavy and thick and half closed in passion. I saw a bead of sweat running down her nose and watched as it splashed lazily on to my breasts. I saw as she bit down hard on her lower lip, the strain on her face as she delayed her own well-deserved climax.
She was everything I had hoped she would be. She was a generous lover, and I could feel my heart beat to within bursting out of my chest to be nearer to her, to love her. She was everything.
I lifted her hand from between us and kissed her fingertips, then wrapped my legs tighter around her waist and anchored my hands on her back.
She was waiting for me. Of course she was. I adored her. I closed my eyes once more, steeling myself for all I was able to give her.
"Lisa, it's so good," I panted, and I meant every word of it. I bucked my hips. I clenched in all the right places, and I called her name, over and over again.
"Jennie, look at me, please," she begged, her voice rife with pleasure. I allowed my eyes to open again, feeling one tear spil down my cheek.
A strange look stole over her features for only a second as her eyes searched mine, and then? She came. No thunder, no lightning, no fanfare. But it was stunning.
She collapsed onto me, and I took her weight. I took it all as I cradled her to my chest and kissed her over and over again, my hands soothing her back, my legs hugging her as tightly as I could. I whispered her name as she nuzzled into the space between my neck and my breast, simple touches and caresses.
Heart sat to the side and quietly sighed. Nerves? You motherfucker. Don't even think about showing your face here.
We lay for a while, listening to the ocean in our own little haven, this romantic fairy tale that could have, should have been enough. When her breathing returned to normal, she lifted her head and kissed me very softly.
"Sweet Jennie," she smiled, and I smiled back, my heart full.
Sex could be amazing, even without the O.
"I'll be right back," she said disentangling from me and walking to the bathroom, naked backside a sight to behold. I watched her retreat, and then sat up quickly, pulling the straps of my nightie back up around my shoulders. I rolled on to my side, away from the bathroom, and curled around my pillow. This had been the single best sexual experience of my life. Every i had been dotted, every t had been crossed. And yet, I was still no-go for O. What the hell was wrong with me?
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
Even though she'd only been gone from the bed a few minutes, when she came back, I panicked and pretended to be asleep. Childish? Yep.
Totally childish.
I felt the bed dip as she climbed back in, and then her warm and still very naked body was up against me, spooning. Arms wrapped around my middle, and then her mouth was at my ear, whispering.
"Mmm, Nightie Girl back in her nightie."
I waited, not speaking, just breathing. I felt her shake me a little bit and let out a little chuckle.
"Hey, hey you, are you sleeping?"
Should I snore? Whenever people faked sleep on sitcoms, they snored. I let out a tiny one. She kissed my neck, my traitor skin pebbling in the wake of her mouth. I sighed in my "sleep," snuggling closer to Lisa, hoping she would let me pull this off. The fates were kind tonight, as she simply hugged me tighter to her chest and kissed me once more.
"'Night, Jennie," she whispered, and the night settled around us. I fake snored for a few more minutes until her actual snoring took over, and then I sighed heavily.
Confused and numb, I was awake until dawn.