They worked at each other, mouth and fingers, heightening the experience of togetherness by bringing each other over, simultaneous. Mary’s lips sat snug against her pleasure spot, suckling and bringing the sensitive bud to fullness within her mouth. Kari rocked against her, encouraging more, always, as her own fingers slid within Mary’s open heat and she flicked her tongue along Mary’s sex.
They lay like that together, their moans muffled against the other’s parted flesh – the occasional whine slipping from between slickened thighs. The indulged. They loved. There was nothing about the other they didn’t bring to the heights of full pleasure, again and again. Their sheets soaked, muscles tired. They loved each other physically as they did emotionally.
It was beautiful, and Kari wouldn’t have it any other way.
What She Really Wants
~ Bonus Story ~
A New Adult Lesbian Romance
Sometimes life doesn’t always go exactly as planned. When you think you have everything planned out, something happens. Not much you can do but keep going, right? That’s what Annie thought.
She tried to do right by everyone but that didn’t always work. She was happy in a sense but when the walls started tumbling down around her she had to find somewhere else to be. It is not always easy to just pack everything up and pick a new spot. Sometimes it takes some soul searching and revelations.
Annie has a bit of soul searching to do before she realizes what is right for her. Sometimes you need a little extra push or touch of fate to realize where you need to be even if you never thought of it before. When destiny offers to take you on a wild ride, why not give it a chance and buckle in?
* * *
Everyone has their problems and mine are really no different. I work at a grocery store with a smile on face asking people if they found the potatoes and milk okay. Like most people my age I still live with my parents while trying to find an apartment of my own. I want to move in with my boyfriend but he does not seem to be on the same page.
We haven’t seen each other much in the past few months. He tells me he is working but I know that means he is sitting at home playing video games with his online group. We have been together since junior year of high school and I was hoping he would grow up a little bit. It hasn’t happened yet but I’m hoping it will.
Nowadays when I get home I’m either greeted by my mother running over to cry on my shoulder or my parents arguing. They only recently started fighting in the open. Before they just told me everything was fine even though I knew it wasn’t.
Mother would tell me that father skipped out on family dinner again, we would eat, and then she would cry on my shoulder about how he never spends time with her. Father would tell me that he bought mother some new piece of jewelry or clothing and she just threw it at him with no warning. Then mother would cry on my shoulder about how he brought her these gifts three days after their anniversary, which he forgot.
It has become a constant battle of mother threatening divorce and father attempting to call her bluff. Every time I come home it feels like I’m walking back into the grocery store after a child has knocked over the tower of apples and half the milk section. I’m given a doll sized mop and told to clean up.
After a long shift I was finally let off. Someone called saying they were going to be late and of course I picked up the extra hours. I get home and there’s mother, sitting at the dining room table wiping her nose.
“Annie, you’re home! How was work?”
I knew she didn’t really care but I liked the sentiment. “It was fine, mom.” I knew I was going to regret this. “Are you okay?”
Immediately the tears start up again. “He keeps lying to me! I don’t know if I can take it anymore!”
“What about?”
“He told me he had a late meeting then came home drunk because he had really gone out with some friends.”
I nodded, feigning some understanding. It’s not like he cheated or anything. I sat down with mother and she cried on my shoulder again about how no relationship works without honesty. Then something about how he cares more about his car, which was probably not true. He didn’t have a fancy car, just a little four-door.
It didn’t used to be like this. Occasionally I would hear the off-hand remark from one of them about the other but it always seemed to be in jest. As I got older they got a bit more constant. Then when I started dating Greg that is when the floodwalls broke. Everything came out.
“Why don’t you talk to dad about this? Like tell him it’s upsetting you.”
“He should be able to see that this is upsetting me! Besides he’ll just lie more.”
I patted her shoulder as she dabbed her cheeks with the tissue in her hand. Then she sat up, sniffled once, and took a deep breath.
“I’m getting a divorce.”
She said it so matter-of-factly that I was a bit startled. “What? You’ve been together for thirty years!”
“I’ve never been happy with this arrangement. We got married because I got pregnant with your brother and then just pushed through it. Well, I’m done. You’re an adult now. It’ll be fine.”
With that she got up and left the room leaving me there with my jaw on the floor and my eyes as wide as dinner plates. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what she just said. Were we really that much of an inconvenience?
Dinner was very awkward but hardly quiet. Mother and father sat across from one another and she began by talking about her wanting to get a divorce. The dance began, back and forth of her accusations and his rebuttals. I tuned them out.
I started thinking of all the nice family dinners where we sat quietly and talked about our day, the holidays when family would come over, birthday parties with presents and cake, and the rare family vacation. I sat there imagining little people my brain taking the memory, crumpling it like a piece of paper, and tossing it in an incinerator. That’s what this feels like.
After dinner was over, or at least after I cleaned my plate, I left. Instead of riding my bike or taking the bus, I walked to Greg’s place. His dad is out of town so I knew I’d be able to have some alone time with him. I both wanted to talk and didn’t.
I knock on his door and he answers in a plain t-shirt and some baggy jeans. He gives me a hug and we go into his room where there are stacks of bowls, a half empty cup of juice, silverware scattered about, and a half eaten slice of pizza on his computer tower. There are crumbs on his sheets and on the floor. I scrunch my nose and look at him.
He lightly brushes off his bed which hardly removes any of the crumbs. I reluctantly sit next to him. We’ve been together for roughly four years now so I feel like I’m in for the long haul. I rest my head on his shoulder.
“I don’t know what to do about all this. My parents just said they’re getting divorced.”
“So? That’s on them, not you.”
Greg was never one for compassion or decent advice. “But they’re my parents.”
“Yeah. They aren’t divorcing you.”
His parents got divorced when he was really young and it never seemed to bother him at all. I asked him what I should do and he told me to ignore them or something like that. I made it clear I didn’t like that option. He shrugged.
I talked at him about my problems and the most I got was a shrug and the occasional one-armed hug. I have always been there for mother and she has always been there for me really. It seemed kind of mean to just tell her that she had to stop coming to me for help. Really I didn’t want to hear it anymore but that would just be rude.
After a few hours Greg told me he had a raid to get to online. I didn’t question it, got up, and left without another word. I decided to take the long way home and go through the nearby park to get my thoughts straight.
My father is unhappy with my mother because he buys her all sorts of things and she never appreciates them. My mother is unhappy with my father because he spends more time with his drinking buddies than with her, and lies about it. It makes sens
e really. Neither of them are happy because neither of them will talk to each other about why they are unhappy.
I start thinking about me and Greg and how in high school I was happy with him and now that I am looking for an apartment, I’m not happy. He doesn’t have a job and I was literally just kicked out of my boyfriend’s bed so he could do a raid in a game.
My hands are in my jacket pockets, my cheeks are red with annoyance, and I’m kicking a rock down my path to keep from going off the deep end. Then, it hits me.
I mean literally, she hits me. She topples me over and is in a heap on the ground herself. I lie there for a moment before sitting up and looking over to see if this girl is okay. She looks rather pretty actually. She has jeans that are cut off to be capris, roller blades strapped to her feet, and a black jacket zipped over her torso.
She sits up across from me and blinks a few times, getting her head to stop spinning. Her green eyes are lovely and compliment her black bob cut. She puts her hand on her head and gives me a small smile.
“I’m so sorry about that. I tried to call out to you, but I guess you had earbuds in or something.”
I look away for a moment and mime the actions of taking earbuds out and stuffing them in my pockets. I guess I was way deep in my thoughts. “Oh, no no. That was my fault.”
I get up, brush off my pants then help her up. She tips her foot back to keep herself from rolling away. She reaches a hand out, “I’m Tabatha. My friends call my Tabby. Can I get you a coffee or something to make up for that crash?”
A smile comes across my face. “Sure! I’m Annie, by the way.”
We shake hands and head towards a nearby coffee shop, me walking and her skating. It doesn’t take long to get there. We order our beverages and sit at one of the tables. We talk for a bit about who we are. You know, the basics like what we do for a living, where we went to school, our hobbies.
Tabby knows how to roller blade and ice skates in the winter. She was a bit of a troublemaker in school but always got good grades. I do my best to skirt around the situation at home and talk about my job as a cashier for the grocery store.
She tells me about her job as an artist and how difficult it can be to get pieces sold but that it is really profitable when something is sold. In her spare time she works out and does all sorts of classes. I joke about my twelve minute mile in school. We have a good laugh about that.
“So I guess your boyfriend works out too?”
“Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m not into guys.”
“Oh!” That’s all I can manage. I think my surprise is obvious because she laughs.
“What about you?”
I pause for a moment, thinking of my answer. “No one at the moment.” What did I just say? I literally just came from my boyfriend’s house. Why would I say something like that?
We talk for a while longer about all sorts of things. I like this girl. She is really nice. My hip and head still hurt a little, but she more than makes up for it with her jokes and personality. She has a sweet smile.
The store starts to close and we realize we’ve been sitting there chatting for about an hour. We grab another drink to go and head out. She offers to skate alongside me so I don’t have to walk home alone in the dark. I happily accept her offer and ask her if she wants me to hold her drink so she doesn’t spill. She smiles and nods.
The walk home is nicer than my other walks or bike rides. I start to feel happy, walking alongside this stranger despite the impending doom that waits for me at home. Greg has never walked me home. He’s never offered nor have I asked. I guess I thought that maybe he would be a gentleman once in a while and offer to walk me home. Especially the nights when I would be there with the intention of staying the night then his dad comes home unexpectedly and he kicks me out so we don’t get caught.
I guess she can tell that my mind isn’t exactly here. She keeps telling me stories about herself on our walk. She occasionally asks a simple question that only requires a one word answer from me. I appreciate the thought. She is keeping me interested and making sure I’m still sort of with her.
We turn down my street and I stop in front of my house. She turns around and stops in front of me. We are roughly the same height but on her roller blades she is a little taller. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a black marker. She grabs my coffee cup, scribbles something on it, hands it back to me, and grabs her cup.
She hugs me around the shoulders and it feels nice. Nicer than Greg really. “We’ll catch up again soon, okay?”
I smile and laugh, “Next time not so rough.”
She laughs and to me it sounds so innocent and cute. We hug once more and wave goodbye to one another. She skates off down the street. I watch her go then look down at my cup. She wrote her phone number followed by a little smiley face.
* * *
A few days go by and my parents are still arguing, less so to me. Mother has tried a few times to come to me and cry on my shoulder about father. I let her to a certain extent but when we get back around to the topic of “I can’t talk to him”, “He will lie”, “He won’t listen”, I make up an excuse to leave.
I have sort of weaned her off of me. Father sometimes tries to talk to me about mother. He questions why she can’t just be happy with the things that he buys her and why does she have to be this way or that. I tried to explain to him that a loving relationship is more than just things. I explained it a few times and it never stuck.
Now they argue with each other and I’m stuck listening to it. In their rants about why one is better than the other, of course my name comes up. They use me as an example of something the other one did. Like the time when father said he had to work late but mother’s car was in the shop. We were supposed to go to a theme park that day but father didn’t get home until really late and when he did, he smelled of booze.
After the fourth or fifth night of this going on for what seems like forever, I go out for the evening. I grab my coat and start walking. My feet take me on the most direct route to Greg’s house. My mind wanders while I walk and I don’t really realize where I am until I look up at his door.
I shrug and knock. He answers in a plain shirt and his boxers. He greets me, hugs me, and kisses me. The kiss doesn’t feel the same. We go into his room and really it looks the same as it did a few weeks ago. I sit on his bed and he sits there with me. He puts his arm around my shoulders.
We shoot the breeze a little bit. He has his tongue on my neck, licking from my chin to my shoulder. He kisses my shoulder and caresses my hip. He kisses up my neck and starts sort of kissing my cheek but with more tongue than should really be used. He does his best to quit my yapping by turning my head and thrusting his tongue into my mouth in a sloppy kiss. He, not so subtly, hints that he is wanting something.
I start to kiss him, trying to keep his tongue under control. He places his hands on my stomach under my shirt and slides his hands up to gently cup my breasts. He lift my shirt off and starts kissing my chest.
I take a moment to look at the crumb-covered bed and look at him with a “you’re not getting me naked on this thing” sort of look. He gets the hint and gets up, adjusts his boxers, rips the sheets off the bed, runs into the hall to find a new set, runs back in the room, and quickly pulls the new fitted sheet over the mattress.
We’re back on the bed. He starts caressing my small, but perky, breasts and reaches around to unhook my bra. He fumbles a few times. I try to ask if her needs help and he sternly replies that he’s got it. It takes him a while but he finally gets it. He drops it near my shirt and kisses down my chest, bringing my nipple into his mouth.
Greg grasps one breast in his hand firmly and plays with other between his lips. I lean back and let him. After at least a minute he begins kissing down my stomach and unzips my pants. He pulls them off then pulls off my panties, dropping them both on the floor next to my shirt and bra.
He finally gets me down to my birthday suit and quickly joins the party. He s
its up, removes his shirt then pulls off his boxers. He strokes his already hard member with a cocky smile on his face. I reach out and take over the stroking. He watches me stroke his member and hums happily.
Luckily he understands the importance of safety and slips a condom down his shaft. I lie back on the clean sheet over his mattress and he leans over me. He presses his lips against mine and kisses me, tongue deep in my mouth. He slowly eases his tip inside me. I wrap my arms around his neck and break the kiss, making a sound similar to a moan softly in his ear.
He starts thrusting, pushing his cock inside me. I kiss his neck and give the occasional bite. He moans softly between panting breaths. This time doesn’t feel the same for me. My mind is elsewhere, thinking about other things. He seems to be enjoying himself though.
His thrusting gets faster and faster. He has one hand on my hip and one holding him steady next to my head. I try to lean up to kiss him and he turns his head so that I kiss his cheek. I feel his thrusts getting harder and his cock throbbing inside me. I slide my hands slowly down his back and grab his hips.
He finishes a bit quicker than normal, not that I was timing him. He kisses me softly and pushes himself up. He smiles at me as though proud of himself. He cleans himself off, puts on his boxers, and starts to hand me my clothes. I get dressed and we sit together on the bed. I start to talk to him about things at home and I can almost hear the elevator music playing in his head.
“You’re going to be moving out soon anyway, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then why does it matter if you’re parents are together or not?”
I look up at him with my brow furrowed. How can he say something like that? “They’re my family. They are going through a rough time and it hurts me.”
“Why?” He turns to look at me with a rather confused look on his face. “It’s not like you are the one getting divorced. It’s not like you’re going through a break up or anything.”
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