After a good couple of hours, two rolls of toilet tissue, four bottles of beer and a family sized pack of tangy cheese Doritos I decide to call off the girls and the investigation. I grab my phone, hit a new text message option on the phone and type:
Me: Investigative assignment cancelled. Depressed Dolly is now in da house.
Texts fly back confirming they’ll be heading over here straight from work, so I clean myself up, put out more tangy cheese Doritos and plug in my zappy hand blender. First through the door is Neely, she lives in an apartment across the breezeway. Our complex is about 15 years old and a few miles drive from the middle of town. I love it’s location, close to town and not far from Barbara and Harrison’s who live in what I would call classic suburbia. She doesn’t bring anything, her store cupboard items will be used as refills if we exhaust my supplies. There is an agreement that supply spares must be available of both apartments at all times. Lottie then knocks a little tune, she expects me to try and guess this tune and I normally have a go, but today I don’t, so she understands my head is a shed right now. Flo arrives last with a polite ring of the doorbell, she brings in additional carb supplies, seriously, any more bags of tangy cheers Doritos and I’ll need bleach and a wire brush to get my fingers clean. What do they put in them?
“Dolly, what’s going on? You look awful.” Flo being kind, blunt and caring all in a few words.
“He came here after Mudjoes. Told me to stay out of his business and leave him be. His wish is my command. I am done. D-O-N-E.”
“This is intriguing,” mumbles Neely.
“No. No. Not intriguing, don’t go all undercover Neely on me. It wasn’t nice, I shouted at him a lot and I can’t carry on living like this.”
The girls go quiet. I take that as my cue to move to the kitchen counter and start mixing up some Dolly mixture. The girls know I am shit at cocktails, I add what my hand falls on from the bottle cupboard, throw in crushed ice, blitz it in my zappy hand blender, pour, add a brolly and hey presto!
“Dolls, what are you saying?”
“Lottie I’m saying I’ve wasted years on this fucker. He never even saw me and now he acts like I’m insignificant, even as a sister. I’ve passed over other guys because they didn’t match my ideal, he was my ideal. Well the guy I saw tonight; was not my Jonas. He was mean and he was crystal clear. He’s also clearly got brain baggage, he doesn’t want my help or support on that front and his current display of broodiness means I am not going to offer any.”
Again all my soul sisters fall quiet, it’s like they know this is a big fucking deal for me. Flo is quickly searching her memory banks for some romance quote to make me feel better.
Neely says nothing, she remembers me in my most obsessive ‘gotta have Jonas’ days and convincing her of my decision and conviction to see it through will be tough. She’ll stay quiet, but wait for signs of me crumbling and falling apart and needing support. Lottie on the other hand goes all out. “OK. The New Team Chaos plan. Get Dolly out, get her hooked up, get her laid.” She extends the word laid with a big smile on her a face and a devious look in her eye and I burst out laughing.
“Whoa, you make it sound like I’m a nun, I don’t ignore men, I can get my flirt on. I’ve just never really seen them clearly. I’m not averse to getting me some because life with B.O.B is dull.” We all laugh, they know I’m sad, but they know I’ll work through this and that I know I have them at my back whilst I do it.
“Eligible single hotties required then, I feel like I may need more outfits for extra nights at Purps,” says Lottie who can work in a shopping trip from any situation.
“Christ, keep your eye out though in Purps, I spied a few seniors from school and some of the football team in there. That would be mortifying and how are they getting in there? Or do I just see them as children still sat behind a desk and not as a lump of testosterone on the prowl.” Flo then muses that Sonny can’t have spotted them either or they would have been ejected, especially the football players.
Neely starts laughing “I know you like photos Dolly, but seeing one of your mug shot in the news because you’ve seduced a minor is not the way to move on.”
Three hours later we decide using Neely’s second wind supplies would be a little bit overkill. We were out last night and two nights of alcohol indulgence is pushing it especially as we seem to have escaped hangovers this morning. We all share sister kisses at my door and I watch Neely head to her apartment whilst Flo and Lottie climb into Tommy’s cab.
I shut the door and for the first time think about what could be ahead for me and not the regrets that have played on my mind for not telling Jonas my feelings in the past.
*****
Jonas
I thought I was mad when I saw Dalton in the club, but Christ, that was nothing, the mood I was in when I walked out of her place was going to take some serious fuckin’ anger management. I’m not even fuckin’ sure what I hoped to achieve by heading over to there.
I’m not fuckin’ happy with her little attempt at being clever in the coffee house and the fact that she was doing this with the other girls means only one thing, her and that bitch band of mischief makers haven’t really changed.
Bloody Letitia and her shit timing, she knows she was wearing that fucking apron when she left my place last night so it would seem like she hasn’t changed much at all either. She’s always been available pussy but she’s still jealous of Dalton and still has no real justification for why she should be.
The look on Dalton’s face when she heard Letitia had spent the night is not something I want to see often, or even again anytime soon. It’s too early to tell her about the business I’m going into and there is no way I can share the reason for being at the club last night or being with Letitia. She is simply a means to an end, if I had my way I wouldn’t even be breathing the same air as her. Jesus, I never thought repaying a favor would involve going to the lengths that I am.
Chapter Five
The next morning I wake up, run through my usual bathroom routine, I look myself in the eye and vow that today will mark a new beginning; positive affirmation is supposed to work. I’ve always said it takes energy to truly hate someone and in the same vein, it takes energy to stay true to something that is never going to happen. You can only be a believer for so long without a sign, a miracle or firm evidence that your luck is changing. I’m only now starting to realize all these things. I always believed the best in him, even though I’d feel disappointed and upset that he was spending time with other girls in the way I wanted to be with him. I’d defend him whilst my friends tried to get me see that he wasn’t interested in me and I would convince myself that the small things he’d do for me were bigger than they actually were. As I got older I’d show my anger more because I stupidly believed it hid my sadness, but what I was too dumb to realize was that emotion was still emotion and showing any kind of it meant you cared.
As the time went on and I began to realize my body was changing, I’d imagine things in my brain and Jonas would play a starring role. This was easier the more distant we became in our everyday lives, I’d built him up to be an unattainable God and that just made things more enjoyable. I can’t count the amount of times over my growing years when I’d played with myself at night imagining it was his hands on me.
Shit! Did I have a wild imagination or what?
I’d put so much feeling into it because it somehow made the end orgasm more intense, more body shocking. I’d pretend it was his hands running up my thighs, pressing my legs further apart with need. I’d pretend it was his thick rough fingers delving inside me making me wet and I’d gasp out loud imagining that it was him teasing my clit and fucking me with his fingers. I’d beg him to build a steady rhythm and would imagine him smiling back wickedly, saying things like “No rhythm. Take what I give you; I want to watch you cum suddenly because you can’t control yourself.” It was easy to pretend at night in the dark and those imaginary scenarios just got better when I discovered the world of
vibrators. As with everything in life the reality is somewhat different. It was still me, I was touching myself and creating a fantasy which became jaded when I’d finished. I’d be gasping for air and coming down from my orgasm and I’d realize with clarity that it was just that, only a fantasy. He was still the unattainable God, I was still alone when I’d finished and it was heavenly and beautiful yet short lived and torturous.
Times when I’ve had brief relationships that have included sex have not really gone anywhere because my head space was elsewhere and imagining the guy I was with was someone else isn’t fair to them or me. I’ve often thought that I was obsessed with him and at times thanked God that he was in the navy, had he been here I may have developed female stalker tendencies. I don’t believe I’m that experienced in the art of sex, but I’m sure everyone thinks that until they meet someone that teaches them something a little bit different or new, so for some time I’ve gone solo in my efforts at finding pleasure and tried to keep a rein on my crazy and creative imagination.
I’m not an early riser; I keep my own work schedule unless I was contracted to do a specific job and a time defined start was required. By the time I’m dressed and armed with breakfast and coffee it’s around 10.45am and after I check my cell, I see I’ve got a text from Oli Hart:-
Oli: Call about the Job when you get this. Ta Oli.
I call him back and it eventually goes to voicemail, so I leave a message asking him to give me a call when he’s free. Whilst waiting I decide to start making notes about possible ideas and locations for the job. Today feels like a pink day, so I pick up my pink leather bound pad up off the sideboard. Neely loves pretty stationary, she is a total girlie stationary whore who often treats me to nice bits and pieces, so I start to list target places to discuss with Oli.
My ideas include :-
Photographing a welcoming local citizen, like Jo and a packed Mudjoes with some steaming coffee, fresh cakes and happy customers. Hopefully, enticing the tourists that want the local feel and a chance to relax.
Capturing hikers getting geared up to take on Chesters Mountain trail. The different weather aspects could make this a stunning shot, I could also get some after shots of exhausted smiles and this may appeal to the adventure tourist or someone who wants to explore our local wildlife.
Taking some shots of the Hawkstown Mayor’s Day festival is a calendar favorite and is being held soon. I can already picture the arts and crafts stalls, the kids taking part in the many fun races and activities, the traditional fairground rides, the baking competitions and community spirited line dance-off. Any family visiting the area around the time of the festival is always sure to have a great day. Here I’d be able to get some action shots of people having fun naturally with no need for staged shots. There is nothing like catching fun smiles in a surprised and natural environment.
Getting some shots of the beauty that is the Hawkstown waterfall and lake. It’s open to the public, its set amongst the trails and it’s a treasure. Crystal clear waters, large rocks for sun bathing and having a picnic, a definite beauty spot. You can get to this from Chris’s land easier than from the trail, even then it’s still a bit challenging but not as much as it is from public trail, this is why it’s remained unspoilt for so long. It’d be easier to get my gear to the site if I went via Chris’s too.
As a group of girls we spent lots of time in groups hanging out during the summer with a picnic and a Frisbee or a football, whilst wearing little bikinis and soaking up the sun listening to music. It was also a regular make out spot with lots of secluded places to run off too with little chance of discovery. In my dating years, whilst I was with Chris, we’d spend a lot of time here getting to know each other. Remembering Chris in his small swim trunks, covered in sun tan lotion climbing in and out of the water was a treat for the eyes and used to make me blush. Imagining him in that same way now, in swim trunks would be enough to make a girl’s mouth water and have her begging. I have fond memories of the naughty things we used to do; some of my “firsts” were at the lake. My first kiss, the first time I let a guy see my breasts and touch them and I also remember one time at the waterfall he taught me how to handle a guy, I mean really handle him.
Chris caught me watching him whilst he swam in the lake; he strolled out of the water and was dripping and as I watched him I noticed he was hard and the bulge in his trunks was more than evident. He smiled at me and I blushed as normal. I was shocked at first that he wasn’t embarrassed and even more so when I realized he wanted me to touch him; that he wanted me to make him feel good, I knew I wasn’t going to say no. He was stood still in front of me as he slowly eased his trunks off, and he looked amazing. My stomach was turning; it was a feeling I’d had before but usually from investigations of my own body. With his cock at my eye level, he grabbed hold of it and walked towards me, taking my chin in his other hand, he stroked my face whilst he looked at me and was slowly stroking himself with his other hand.
“Lick your lips Dolly.” I did as he asked. “So beautiful, lick me, gently just once on the tip.” Again I did as he asked and he took a deep breath in. I remember the salty tip, it didn’t feel or taste bad and I didn’t feel like it was something I shouldn’t be doing, it felt hard and I felt adventurous, brave and erotic. He stepped away from me and sat down next to me. He was still stroking himself, I was watching intently learning the movements and the rhythm he liked, the way he twisted it at the top of the swollen head and then clenched his fist on the down stroke. When his breath hitched a little harder I slowly reached out, I wanted to touch him but was nervous he wouldn’t want the interruption; he looked content on his own.
“It’s Ok Dolly, you can touch me too.” So I wrapped my small hand around his fist and made the movements with him, after a few up and down strokes he removed his hand and encouraged me to carry on. He leant forward a little more and started to kiss me, plunging his tongue deep into my mouth following the rhythm of my hand. After a few more strokes he dropped his head back and with closed eyes, he licked his lips, I think he mumbled something like “grip harder” and “faster dolly” to me and then he came, spurting all over his stomach and my hand. We both took a dip in the lake to clean off after and it felt like I had a permanent smile on my face. I was a changed girl after.
My trip down memory lane over, I realized that even with access from Chris’s land I’d still struggle with the gear I need to get the best shot. I made a note to call Tommy Sevens; I’d used him as an assistant in the past, he was super helpful, easy on the eye and would be paid by my employers for his trouble. Just then my cell starts to ring and its Oli returning my call. “Oli, how are you?” I ask and he replies with the usual pleasantries.
“Wally told me you’re looking for a photographer to work on a new tourist brochure.” He replies with yes, he’s got some ideas, but would love for me to work on it with him and suggests we meet up for a kick off chat at his office. He currently uses one of the rooms at the legal office in town so I agree and we schedule a time for a little later. This gives me some time to kill and my kitchen cupboards silently nag that they need filling. Grocery shopping it is then and looking at the time available to me it will be a supermarket dash worthy of an Olympic record.
I go with my usual supermarket M.O. of run and dump stuff in the cart knowing that it will have a hit and miss success rate that usually all comes good by the time I get to the check out. After replenishing the stuff the girls and I got through, as well as more mundane things like vegetables, fridge stuff, milk and bread I round the corner in to the toiletries aisle and spy Tits Brunel. I quickly wonder whether I can double back without her seeing me and avoid bumping into her later on in another aisle. Unfortunately she’s sneering because she’s already spotted me, so I take a deep breath and suck in my stomach, clear my facial expression and carry on. My game plan is to ignore her; pretend she doesn’t exist. I also acknowledge that if she chooses to push my buttons it’s game on.
I carry on grabbing stuff
, toilet tissue, shower gel, tampons and as I get closer I see she’s moved towards the condoms and is doing an Oscar worthy performance over the selection.
“Hhhm, real feel or ribbed? The mutual climax variety worked a treat last time,” she says as she fakes thought. So that’s how it’s going to be.
“Hhhm, no, the ones you need are definitely not stocked here,” I reply. She knew I wouldn’t leave that comment alone.
“And which ones would they be?” I love that she’s predictable and can’t resist asking.
“Well, the trash bag variety for going over your head are located in the household aisle. Or, the surgical thickness variety which you should probably use are not available here, I think you need to get them from hardware store, once you’re in there, head for the pest control and infection section.” She spins round to face me.
“You fucking what?” She looks angry and she also can’t believe I’ve said any of that and said it calmly straight to her face.
“Any variety has to be better than what you currently need, which is none you dried up little bitch.”
“Aaah, defensive Letitia comes out when she hears the truth. I’ve heard guys generally go for less used females, as opposed to well travelled and already broke in tramps with cunts like buckets. I get it now, are you trying to get an award for Hawkstown’s best know tourist attraction?” Shit where did that come from? And did I really use the C word?
“How dare you, you can’t speak to me like that you little bitch.”
At this point a small audience is gathering and people are pretending to intently read toothpaste tubes and shaving foam cans. I knew we weren’t having a pleasant conversation, but I thought I had the volume under control, obviously not. I may as well see it through now, because I may never get another chance to say these words. I may also regret them too if she is a permanent fixture in Jonas’s life.
“Look, Letitia,” saying her full name for a second time does not make it easier, but I push it past my lips, whilst holding back a sneer and continue. “You don’t like me and I can’t stand you, you treated me like shit all through high school for no apparent reason. We’re not in high school anymore some of us actually graduated from there and moved on in the world. So you stay out of my way and I’ll give you a real wide berth, it won’t be hard, it will be my pleasure and with a bit of luck I won’t meet you in the supermarket again, looking at condoms, which forces images into my brain which I can’t un-see unless I go back a couple of aisles and get some fucking bleach.” She doesn’t like this side of me because she’s never seen it before. I never answered her back in high school, she was a mean girl but sneaky about it because she worshipped Jonas and falling out with his sister could have forced him to choose. I also wanted to keep the peace, I wanted house harmony and I was a good girl.
Fostering Love (The Soul Sisters Series Book 1) Page 4