Without a word or a glance back, she opened the car door and hurried inside her house, leaving me at once both lost and found and forever changed.
I didn‘t see Ashley again all summer. It felt like I’d lost my best friend, and I guess I had. Anyway, it hurt like hell. In the fall I left for a West Coast college on a volleyball scholarship. As far as I knew, Ashley had gone to her school of choice as well.
That winter when I came home over break, there was a card waiting for me. Inside was a note with Ashley’s new dorm address and phone number, written in her distinctive script. Over the next four years my mother became a messenger service, dutifully forwarding two cards a year from Ashley; one for Christmas and one for my birthday. In each card was a request to meet but I never replied, not being able to bear hearing some placating speech about how she liked me a lot, just “not that way.” To her credit, Ashley never asked for my address, and after eight cards, she stopped trying.
After college, I joined the AVP and began playing open beach volleyball tournaments. Once or twice, after I began to make a name for myself, I could have sworn I saw Ashley at some of the matches. During year two a rotator cuff injury simultaneously ended my playing career and began my coaching career. Over the next four years our university managed to make it to a Division I championship twice. The stats for my personal life were far less impressive; I never seemed able to sustain a relationship for more than a few months.
Ashley had fared well, or so my mother kept me informed. Surprisingly, she had returned to our hometown high school and began teaching chemistry, no less. I knew she had never married, and I wondered why someone so wonderful stayed single.
The persistent honk of a car horn drew me from my musings. The image of what my father would have had to say to whoever the unlucky driver of that car was provided me with a much-needed moment of comic relief. Another long blast sounded and I slid from the bar stool and walked to the front door to investigate. The neighborhood had always been a quiet one, and I didn’t blame my folks for leaving if every weekend had become this noisy.
Stepping out onto the porch, I waited a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the waning light. There in the driveway sat Ashley, parked in the Galaxy. Just to be sure, I blinked a couple of times. Before I could even form a thought, she hit the horn again.
“Get in!” she shouted loudly enough for the entire block to hear.
“Are you insane?” I answered back, glancing left and right, hoping none of my parents’ neighbors were witnessing this exchange. After the free entertainment of the auction that afternoon, I was certain that at least Mrs. Perkins would be on the lookout for any further drama at 503 Mulberry Lane.
Another drawn-out honk shattered the otherwise still evening, and somewhere nearby a dog began to bark. Taking the porch steps two at a time, I quickly covered the distance to the driveway and stopped inches from the driver side door. When I opened my mouth to speak, Ashley cut me off. “Get in.”
“There is no way I’m getting in that car with you,” I said calmly. “I don’t even know why you’d think I would.”
“Oh, I think you will,” she answered just as calmly. “Either that, or I’m going to sit out here all night honking. You can either get in or call the police and have me arrested for disturbing the peace or trespassing or whatever,” Ashley said with a hint of anger in her voice.
I just stood there staring at her, cursing whatever fate made her still so beautiful after all these years. Part of me wanted to climb in that car and roll back the odometer ten years and another part of me wanted to just finally move on, whatever that meant. If there was any shortcut I could take somewhere between the two destinations, I wished I knew which way to turn and find it.
Sensing my indecision, Ashley got out of the car and leaned back on the door, folding her arms across her chest against the cool air of the evening.
“Listen, Cat,” she began, then corrected herself, “Catherine, please. Just come for a drive with me and I promise if afterward you still don’t want to see me, I won’t contact you again. Ever,” she said quietly.
The finality of her tone made me realize that this was it. There would never be another chance to resolve this part of my life, for good or bad. Ashley was watching me, those blue eyes melting a path through my heart.
“I should have my head examined,” I said with conviction as I walked back to the house to lock up. Returning to the car, I opened the passenger door and paused. “I don’t suppose I could drive?” I ventured, trying to gain some control over this situation in which I felt very much out of control.
Breaking the tension, Ashley nearly snorted with laughter. “Hell no,” she finally got out. “You never would let me drive this car. After all it’s taken for me to get behind the wheel, do you honestly think I’m going to just hand over the keys?”
“Hope you’re a better driver now than you were then,” I commented dryly as I sat down on the wide bench seat.
“Funny, Cat…therine.” Ashley grinned as she started the engine and backed out. “Nice to know your sense of humor hasn’t changed.”
I couldn’t keep the small smile from my face. I had missed this, the teasing and verbal sparring. The ache in my chest made me admit just how much. We rode on in silence for several miles as Ashley took us out beyond the reach of the lights of town. I rolled the window down an inch or two, letting the crisp night air pass over me, trying to clear my thoughts. The hum of the tires on the pavement was calming and I turned a little in my seat, studying Ashley’s profile.
Suddenly, I had to know. Right here, right now.
“Did you hate me?” I gave voice to the fear I’d kept inside for so long.
Ashley’s head jerked in my direction and the Galaxy swerved a little. “No!” she shouted, the word filling the space between us. “No,” she repeated, softer this time. “I could never hate you, Cat. I…” Frustrated, she took a deep breath. “Let me find a place to pull over, okay?”
Parker’s Pond was just up the road and Ashley turned in, cutting the engine but leaving the dash lights on. For a moment, neither one of us seemed able to speak and only the crickets broke the silence. I was about to make some desperate comment on the weather when Ashley found her courage and continued.
“You turned my world upside down with that kiss, Cat.”
I sank down in the seat, not sure where this was going.
“I was afraid,” she went on. “Afraid of you, afraid of me, afraid of what I felt. I was angry with you for changing everything, and I was angry with myself for being such a coward. By the time I had sorted it out in my head, you were gone and wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t know how to fix it at that point. I could never hate you Cat. I love you. Always have, always will. So I guess the real question is, do you hate me? I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” she said, sounding resigned to hear the worst from me.
Replaying her words in my mind, I felt a little light-headed. This was not what I had expected. Trying to process it was nearly impossible at the moment and I just sat there, not saying a word.
Mistaking my silence for an answer, Ashley reached for the ignition. “I understand, Cat. You don’t have to say it.”
“Wait,” I said, covering her hand with mine. “Just give me a minute, okay? You always were so damn impatient.”
Turning her palm over and lacing her fingers with mine, Ashley slid from behind the steering wheel and faced me. With a look that sent every available ounce of blood in my body straight south, she lowered her voice and asked, “Why don’t you shut up and kiss me?”
“What?” I almost shouted. My senses were on overload from her thumb stroking my wrist and the thought of tasting her lips again, even for a moment. I could smell her scent, sweeter than I remembered, and it was becoming difficult to breathe, let alone form sentences.
Gaining confidence, she moved a little closer until our bodies touched from thigh to shoulder. Leaning forward until I could feel the warmth of her breath against my cheek,
she spoke in a tone of voice I had never heard until that night. “I said, why don’t you shut up and kiss me? I can pretty much guarantee you’ll get an entirely different response this time.”
“It’s not that simple!” I protested, not really able to come up with one good reason not to at the moment.
Looking me straight in the eyes, Ashley spoke with emotion. “Yes, it is that simple if you want it to be.”
I wondered if it actually could be. It took me all of ten seconds to decide that it could, and was. Laying my palm against her cheek, I captured her lips in a kiss so full of desire that it took us both by surprise. Ashley recovered quickly, however, and returned the kiss with an equal amount of passion. As she tilted her head a bit more, I felt her open to me and I took the invitation. My tongue traced her full lower lip, sucking it gently before gliding over the sensitive skin inside.
I felt Ashley shudder and surge against me, her breasts pressed against my arm. The immediate flood of wetness between my legs tore a groan from my throat as I gradually ended the kiss with one last stroke of my tongue and several nips along her jawline. Keeping my eyes closed, I rested my forehead against hers, trying to ignore the almost painful throbbing of my clit.
Ashley was having a hard time getting her breathing under control, and when she finally did, she laughed nervously. “Wow.”
“Wow?” I echoed, teasing. “That’s all you can say?”
“How about I’m sorry,” she offered.
Frowning, I opened my eyes. “You’re sorry? For what?” I started to pull back, but Ashley brought both hands around my neck, keeping me right there.
“I’m not sorry for this, Cat. I’m sorry for the past, for hurting you. And I’m sorry I missed out on ten years of kissing you.” She ended with a small smile, searching my face for some sign of hope.
I closed my eyes again, overcome. When I opened them, Ashley was still gazing at me intently, waiting. Not able to find adequate words, I tried instead to show her what was in my heart. Grasping her hips, I tugged her forward, guiding her over me as I leaned back across the seat. My hands found their way under the hem of her Henley, slipping beneath the waistband of her khakis and coming to rest at the small of her back. This time when my mouth found hers, it was gentler but filled with meaning. It was a kiss of absolution and love, and I did my best to let it speak for me.
Ashley understood and threaded the fingers of one hand in my hair, pulling me even closer. The other hand trailed down the front of my shirt and came to rest low on my stomach. I felt the heat of her palm through the material, shivering when she began to tug it loose from my jeans. A firm thigh pressed between my legs, rocking hard against my crotch. Groaning deep in my chest, I tore my lips away from hers as my hips lifted up off the seat. Insistent fingers freed the buttons on my shirt, tracing random patterns on my skin until finally circling my left breast through the fabric of my bra. Ashley bent lower and I felt her moist breath on my nipple, causing it to harden even more. When she grazed the tip with her teeth, I almost threw us both off the seat.
“Wait,” I managed to protest. “We can’t do this here; there isn’t enough room. Besides, I don’t want the first time we make love to be in a car.” My face flushed at the confession.
Ashley seemed to consider this for a moment but made no move to sit up. Instead, she just shifted to the side, allowing me to lift my torso and lean back against the door. A thin sheen of perspiration covered my body and I reached up to brush the hair away from my neck.
A smile slowly spread across Ashley’s face as she drew an imaginary line down my chest to my naval. “Cat?” she spoke in my ear, her tongue coming out to taste the lobe as she flicked open the top button on my jeans.
“Yes?” I replied, my voice higher than normal.
“Cat?” Ashley repeated.
I sucked in a breath as I felt the remaining buttons surrender.
“Have you ever made love to anyone in this car?” Playfully, Ashley grasped the elastic of my bikinis and snapped it back against my skin. I nearly came right there.
“What? No, why?” I managed to answer.
“Because,” Ashley explained, “this is where we began, Cat. I want another chance. I want to put life in reverse and then shift into high gear.” Her hand dipped inside my bikinis. Finding the wet heat there she parted the swollen folds, stroking, once, twice. “Unless,” she whispered against my neck, “you want to drive.”
My eyes slammed shut as her fingers closed around my clitoris. “That’s okay,” I ground out. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a short trip.” Blindly, I cupped her face and claimed her mouth as she entered me, taking me home.
*
The trunk lid closed on the Galaxy, Ashley’s luggage packed inside. I took a final look around the old neighborhood, waiting for her to make one last check of her house before we left for California. She came out the front door, closing it for the last time. Walking to the car, she stopped in front of me and placed a quick kiss on my lips.
“Who’s driving?” she grinned, daring me.
Reaching into the back seat, I pulled out the fuzzy dice and hung them from the rearview mirror again, making them twirl.
Turning around, I held out my hand to Ashley. “Give me the keys,” I answered. “You’re dangerous when you drive.” Laughing, she complied.
“So can this thing make it all the way?” Ashley asked as we headed west on I57.
“Are you serious?” I answered. “Look how far it’s taken us already!”
The Temple
Amie M. Evans
The Temple is quiet except for the steady, soothing sound of the water being returned through the filter back into the turtle pond. I sit with my back perfectly straight on the wooden bench facing the mirror. The sheer material of my dressing gown reveals the form of my breasts and the darker color of my areolae. The silver hoops that pierce my nipples flash as the light hits them.
Sixteen years ago, Kate held my wrists over my head as the strange woman put surgical clamps on my nipples and rammed the sharp silver needle through my flesh. It happened over there on our bed. I touch myself now, and I am wet from the memory.
I woke, confused, a ball gag in my mouth, my shackled ankles attached to the rings in the floor, my head in Kate’s lap, as she stretched my arms up toward her. I could see her face, the intense look in her eyes, but I couldn’t lift my head to see my own body or anything else. I could feel the weight of the mysterious stranger as she straddled me. I twisted in revolt, thinking Kate would allow someone else to fuck me. I cried out, but it was muffled and deformed by the gag. I pleaded to her with my eyes. For the first time, I was afraid.
“Shh, Isabella,” she said, soothing me with a warm look from her ice blue eyes. “It’s all right. Don’t move.”
I’d heard those words before, seen that look in her eyes, and I believed her—trusted her. She wouldn’t let anyone else take me. I belonged to her. I relaxed and stopped fighting against my bondage. I felt the stranger’s fingers touch my nipples. I felt the clamps—like no other clamp I’d ever felt before—being put into place. My cunt got wet from the pressure on my nipples; then Kate kissed my forehead and her hands slipped from my wrists into my palms. The prick of the flesh didn’t exist, just intense pain and a burning as a rush of endorphins hit my brain. An unfamiliar voice said, “Breathe for me.” And again pain, burn, pleasure—as the stranger pierced the other nipple. I moaned and grunted a mock protest.
“Almost done,” Kate’s familiar voice said as she looked away from my breasts and into my eyes. “There.” She released my hands and stroked my forehead. She lightly touched the healed cuts on my breasts that had just thickened into scars, then attached the leather shackles around my wrists, hooking them to the O-rings on the wall at each of the bedposts. She cupped my face in her hands, softly kissed my nose, stood up and gave the woman, whose face to this day I have not seen, her money. Turning back to me, she slid a finger between the folds of my labia as she lay h
alf on top of me, half next to me. I was wet and euphoric from the fear, the piercing, and the realization of what my love had just done.
She unzipped her pants and the hard silicone cock popped out. “You’re so wet,” she said as she fingered me. I twisted and squirmed at her touches. Played outraged. Played resistant. She pushed her cock into me, fucking me hard while lightly pinching my nipples, sending increasingly stronger jolts of pleasure through me. Kate clamped her hands onto my bound wrists and fucked me like I was an inanimate object and when I came, she kept fucking me until I came again.
I was brought up Catholic, attended a parochial school and church until I entered college. In high school, I researched alternative religions with fevered passion. I spent hours reading books on Taoism, Buddhism, Satanism, and Islam. I searched mythologies and cults for proof or even a sign that a god, goddess, or multiple divine beings existed. I wanted desperately to believe. I wanted to find something that sparked the spiritual fires inside of me, lit up my soul. I never found any proof. I never even found any hints. I stopped believing in gods.
In college, I looked for a spirituality that wouldn’t leave me empty and needing. I waded through texts looking for something that would touch my soul and stir the powers I felt inside myself. I practiced yoga, transcendental meditation, and tai chi. I played with Wicca and paganism. I build altars and shrines and participated in ceremonies to honor the seasons. I dabbled in voodoo and tarot cards. None of it filled me up. None of it stopped the aching desire or the longing need for completeness. None of it enabled me to save my soul, tap my spiritual energy, or move into a higher plane. I was always left empty—a spiritual void.
Then I met her.
*
I let the robe fall from my shoulders, then slide the silk slip with the antique white lace over my head. It fits the curves of my body perfectly, holding my breasts taut and high, cutting in at the waist and flaring out at the hips. I pull stockings, new from the package, onto my legs. The sheer black nylon clings to my freshly shaved skin and stops at mid-thigh. I attach them to my pink and black garter belt, then apply a small spray of perfume to each wrist and the back of my neck. Returning to my original position at the dressing table in front of the mirror, I select a black eyeliner pencil and apply it close to the lashes—thin, even lines emphasizing my lids to complement the makeup on my lips and cheekbones.
Lessons in Love Page 27