by Berri Fox
Slowly, so slowly. Her tongue teases at my clit, just the tip, spreading slick lust from one end of me to the other. She holds up my legs to use her tongue around the deeper cave, teasing me with masterful, short strokes.
I can feel the orgasm building in me but its like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It seems huge and yet so far away. Every small, calculated lick of her tongue draws me one tiny step closer.
I collapse under her, letting her hard hands and strong arms move me where she wants. I’m loose and helpless in her arms as I wait for the pleasure that waits in the promise of her passion.
She changes pace, just slightly, using the flat of her tongue on my clit. She puts two fingers into me and I’m so excited I almost leap off the floor. She pushes me down against the carpet and growls menacingly as she keeps devouring me and working with her fingers.
I can hear myself murmuring and the pleasure forces everything out of my body. The only thing moving me is Helen as she starts to sit up, dragging me with her as she punishes my clit with her tongue and works me with her fingers.
The orgasm comes slowly, a hissing of the tide far away then faster and faster, rushing through my blood and exploding everything inside me. I think that I might be screaming, but it doesn’t matter.
I’m safe. I’m loved. I can scream. I can shake. I can be whatever I am, here in this woman’s arms.
When she lays down beside me and pulls me close, I put my arms out and we coil together, small moans slipping out of us both. We rock slowly back and forth as pleasure shudders through us. I feel her fingers stroke my hair and lean in like a cat.
I don’t ever want to move, but my hip is digging into the carpet. I think Helen is having the same problem as she shifts against me.
“Hmmm. We should go to bed.” She whispers.
“My thoughts exactly.”
She opens her eyes and stares right into mine. They are so big and green its like looking up to a rainforest canopy. She’s mysterious and like the canopy, her eyes hide a whole sky of hidden dangers.
Why would I think that she is dangerous? Is it my old self preservation instinct kicking in again? Right now, I can’t, I wont think.
I kiss her gently and look into her beautiful eyes again. I know I feel safe. I know I’m home.
So why do I still doubt?
As we pick ourselves up and head towards the bedroom, I squeeze her hand gently and commit myself to her. I’ve never promised myself to a place, a job or a person before, but at this moment I pledge to always give Helen my best.
If there is any chance of this working, I have to give my whole heart.
Twenty-Three
Helen
I wake slowly, surprised that my alarm isn’t screaming at me. When I move, I instantly remember that I didn’t set my alarm last night—and why I didn’t.
My hand strokes Roxy’s beautiful smooth skin, moving up and down her body. I roll over and look at her, realizing that she’s only just opening her eyes. They are pale grey, almost silver with dark lines in the Iris’ that make her seem to glare.
As she smiles, I know I’ve never seen those eyes softer than what they are right now. The moment is almost too much perfection. The light streaming through the window, the clean sheets rustling against me and our warm bodies coming together.
It looks like I’d be late to work, but I’m sure Lisa wont mind. Not when I allude to what I was doing.
Roxy slithers over to press her body against mine and I wrap my arms around her. I press her to me, not too tightly but enough to make her gasp. She’s what I’ve always needed, someone to help me see that the only opinion that matters in life is your own.
She shifts in my arms and I let her go. She grins as she jumps out of bed and heads to the bathroom. I get up and put on a robe, heading for the kitchen to make coffee.
I almost get out my whole meal bread, fruit and yoghurt but then I remember who I’m sharing with. I smile with amusement as I pull out donuts, sugared pastries and pancake mix.
What my baby wants, my baby gets.
A couple of seconds later Roxy comes out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but her panties. She sits at the counter and starts on a donut straight away.
“Morning.”
“Good morning.” She says softly.
The moment stretches out and its as if we understand each other. I’ve never felt this way before. Maybe, all the love songs ever written were right, after all.
“What are you doing today?” Roxy asks, reaching for coffee.
“Oh, I should head into work, even though its quite late now. Lisa wont mind. Its Friday, anyway. Why don’t you come with me?”
Her wide grey eyes seem to grow several sizes.
“What?”
“Come into work with me. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Oh no.” She tears into a chunk of donut. “I had a hard-enough time at that dinner. I can’t pretend to be good in front of a whole office of guys like that.”
“Oh, I don’t care!” I lean forward, touching her cheek. “You’re my girl. I don’t care what they think. The only thing that matters is what you think.”
“Well, I think I don’t want to go.”
I feel a nasty twist in my stomach and its as if I’m in an elevator and just realized its not moving the right way and its going too fast.
“Roxy, is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Of course. I just want to hang out okay. We had such a great night, I just want to take it easy.”
“Well, you’ll have to come into work sooner or later.” I try not to sound petulant, but I think I just hit bossy. Fantastic.
“Have to?” Roxy speaks with such a flat tone and slate eyes I almost forget what I said.
“Yes. Have to. The magazine is going crazy over your pictures. You’re going to be the main model for my section, at least to start with. We’ll need to get you some new clothes. I want you to meet everyone! Do you think you could switch your nose ring for a small stud?”
She appears frozen in front of me. The wisps of heat wicking across the top of her hot coffee are the only thing that moves.
I do the only thing I can do. Forge forward at an even more excitable pace.
“Well. If the modeling thing doesn’t excite you, you’ll have to come in for the wedding plans! Lisa is starting to look out for all the things we need, we’ve got some photographers that cant wait to do the shoot—we might even use it in the magazine! Roxy, are you even listening to me?”
She nods slowly, taking a sip of coffee, donut forgotten and crumbling on the counter.
“There’s a publicity function on next week. You’ll have to come to that. So many photographers and design artists are excited to have you work with them. We’ll get you a stunning dress and then—”
“Helen.”
“You’ll see they won’t be able to resist you! Did I tell you that Lisa—”
“Helen!”
“Wants to buy our dresses and you can pick any one you want—”
“HELEN!”
Finally, my words stop like a cartoon character hitting the wall behind a painted backdrop. I’m almost panting like a racehorse at the effort of trying to say everything at once.
“Helen.” She says again, firmly putting down her coffee. “I don’t know what you think is going on here, but you don’t tell me what to do. You don’t tell me where to go, what to wear, or what piercings are acceptable.”
“What?” I’m so shocked and hurt I can’t process. Why is she being so difficult? Everything was just perfect. We could have gone to the office, played dress up, gone for lunch, it could have been a great day.
A couple’s day. A celebration of our new lives together.
Unless she doesn’t want to.
Now I’m the one staring blankly, coffee cooling in my hands.
“Helen, did you hear me?”
“I heard you.” My voice comes out rough and deep. “You make it sound like taking you to work to get dressed up and
take pictures is some kind of torture.”
“All depends on your point of view, I guess. Some days, that might be really fun. But don’t just assume I’ll do whatever you say.”
I feel a sharp twist in my chest, and I scowl at her.
“Why are you being so difficult?”
Roxy’s eyebrows shoot up towards her hair. “Difficult?”
“Yes, difficult! I wanted to show you around, show you off, take you out---”
“And I want to drink coffee, eat donuts and scroll on my phone.”
She looks completely serious. I cross my arms, barely restraining myself from tapping my foot.
“You don’t even want to go shopping!” I was really looking forward to her makeover and giving her a whole new look.
She puts her cup down firmly.
“I’m not your fucking doll, Helen. Just because we fucked doesn’t mean you’re in charge. If staying at your place and enjoying your company has the price of obeying your word, I’ll hit the street so fast not even my nose piercing will have time to wink goodbye.”
While I stand there, desperately scrabbling to find a comeback, I realize I underestimated Roxy. I honestly didn’t think she could argue this well, with any kind of intelligence.
That’s when I really understand what this fight is about. Respect.
But I know I’m losing, and it brings out the worst in me. Especially after last night, all that beauty being shattered by our harsh words.
“Look, Roxy, whatever. You want to sit here and stuff your face, fine. Get some tattoos. Get ten piercings on your face, what the fuck do I care!”
My voice rises to a roar but I’m leaving the room, waving my hands in the air. I slam into my bedroom, hearing Roxy yelling something behind me. I pull on some pants and a blouse, not even paying attention to the color or cut. I charge back towards the living room, grabbing my purse.
“Real mature Helen, just go and fuck off in the middle of a fight. Why not.”
“Do you know how mature it is to say, ‘real mature”.
“Do you know how childish it is to repeat?”
We glare at each other. I feel a stab of sadness behind my heart. I just wanted her to come with me. I thought it would be fun.
But she’s right. I would have approached the situation differently if we hadn’t had sex.
What can I say? She’s mine. My territory. I’ve never felt so possessive about anything, ever.
I turn my back on her and slam the door on the way out. I know I’m in the wrong. I don’t give a fuck. I feel she should bend to me. Why wouldn’t anyone want to be a model? She can walk into one of the best jobs in the world without a scrap of effort.
As I head downstairs, I take a moment to appreciate the fact I’m so insanely mad my cheeks are hot, and my legs are trembling. I lost my shit upstairs badly enough to wave my arms, scream and yell while running.
I’m still so mad, right now, that I can’t calm down. I want to scream at passersby and hit walls.
I’d feel surprise, if I could. Tame dame Helen, losing her fucking shit at last.
I can’t feel surprise right now. All I can feel in me is fury and passion.
And I think I kind of like it.
Twenty-Four
Roxanne
When Helen slams out of the apartment, I know I’m yelling something at her back, but if I can’t make it out, there’s no chance that she can.
I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m just so pissed off.
How long was I awake for? Like ten seconds? Then she starts going on about going to her work, wedding plans and modeling gigs? Shit! Did I say, even once, that I wanted to be a model?
I could sit here over my coffee going over every single insulting thing she said, but I know that wont help. That crack about my nose ring was especially bad.
What, now that we’ve screwed, she gets to dress me up however she likes?
Shit.
I don’t think I’ve ever wished for a cigarette as badly as I do right now. Whenever I’m really stressed, I find myself lighting up. It’s not like I do it a lot. This frantic, itchy feeling just leaves me wanting the kiss of self destruction to make it go down easier.
I sit down on the couch with my coffee and try not to sulk. I need to think.
So last night was all fairy lights and roses in bloom. Everything perfect. I don’t know why I assumed waking up would be just as good. It should have been, if she would have just shut the fuck up about where I have to go and what I’m supposed to wear!
I try to calm down. The second I start thinking about the specifics of the fight, I just lose the plot. The only question here is, what do I want to do?
I thought Helen was a sweet woman who was just too strait laced. Repressed even. Certainly, hiding behind societal norms, terrified that anyone would find out her hunger for other flavors in life. It seems now that she’s letting herself get excited about things, she’s getting fiery on every level.
But what if I’m wrong?
I don’t know her. I haven’t really met anyone that knows her, only the few at the Nook and at her work dinner.
The thing is, she might be an absolute psycho control freak. Sometimes the really repressed ones are. If she feels like her life is running away with her, the first thing she would do is something like this. Something to get back in control.
Maybe, this is the real Helen.
I took off initially as a young kid because I didn’t want to get trapped in someone else’s idea of me. Any place that seemed to settle and expect me to play a certain part got left in the dirt behind me. I can’t even consider a relationship with someone that wants to control me.
I do feel bad for her though. I care about her in spite of all of that. It doesn’t matter if she’s a buttoned down Scaredy cat or a raging perfectionist monster, I feel bad for her. I want to help her.
I don’t want to hurt her.
I see how important the magazine is for her. She’s been holding things back her whole life and she sees this as a way to let herself out. I appreciate that this takes courage and she’s developed a fair strategy. I want to support her in this no matter what.
She deserves to be free. I can’t just give her my heart though, I don’t want to help her by hurting myself. But if I can help her get the real Helen out there in a way that makes her comfortable, I’ll do it.
So. I’m not running. I could be, probably should be. But I’m not. Did I just make a whole bunch of excuses, so I didn’t actually have to leave her? Probably.
I’ll hang out and do the girlfriend thing. I don’t know if I’ll actually support the idea of a fake wedding. I don’t want to do this. I know its going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
But I can’t leave. It doesn’t matter what argument I make, there is no way I’m leaving her.
Such is the state of the heart. If only we could dictate what it does, how it speaks.
Now that I’ve made my decision I just want to cry. I don’t want to stand next to her and fake being her girlfriend. I really don’t. Especially if we are going to end up fighting… And most likely, still ridiculously attracted to each other.
As usual, I’ve painted myself into a corner and I can’t get out.
Time to wear it.
It’s still fairly early in the afternoon. I can’t wait to talk to her, but I’ve had no text or call. Maybe, she doesn’t want to talk yet. We’ll have to, even if its just to say goodbye or maybe even ‘get the fuck out of my apartment’.
The one underlying thought to all of this is that I had a fantastic time last night. I’m not going to lose that, not if there is anything, I can do to keep it. Not only was it the most sensual experience of my life, I felt really connected for the first time.
My grin spreads slowly over my face. Sensory memories creep across my skin. Her scent. Her skin under my fingertips. Helen.
Okay. I might be in love.
That is exactly why I got so angry. Because I reali
zed from the first insult that she could say anything she wanted to me, and I was going to forgive her. I was angry with myself for allowing such a situation.
But I’m in it up to the neck, now.
I decide that I want to surprise her. I imagine she’ll be on her way home soon and she’ll be angry and worried. If I set up the table with some takeout and get her something nice, she’ll know that there is no need to worry and we can talk it out. That way she may have time to get through the door before firing both guns.
I go through my backpack and that’s when I remember that I don’t have a cent to my name. Normally by now I would have managed to get a few shifts at a diner or done a bit of busking. Because I’ve been hanging out at Helen’s I haven’t made any money.
Well. She said I could have anything I want. We never discussed the terms of our agreement, but surely, I was going to get something out of it.
How could she get mad about me taking a few bucks for dinner?
I start hunting in the kitchen, pretty sure there were a few notes in a coffee jar. I remember thinking how cute it was that she would stash her change in a coffee jar. After some hunting I find it and pull the wad of bills out. I don’t even look at it as I stuff it in my pocket.
My head is full of Helen’s favorite wine, chocolate and bread. I’m not sure what take out to get, but she really does seem to enjoy Italian.
I’m so stoked I bounce a bit on my way downstairs. I can’t wait to surprise her and get all this shit properly sorted out. It’s going to be fine.
The wad of cash is thick in my pocket. I didn’t even check to see what size bills they were. If it’s only her spare change, I hope its enough to buy dinner.
I leave the building, whistling a little tune. I’m proud of myself for being calm and thinking things through. I have the feeling that Helen is the kind of woman worth fighting for.
Twenty-Five
Helen