Then a halt. Full stop. The dildo burning inside Mindy, Mindy exploding around it, but not flying apart—just continuously exploding like that was actually possible.
Lucia drew herself out, hands on Mindy’s hips to hold her up as Lucia denied her their fuck, pulling it away from her, painfully slow. Then, still agonizingly not-fast-enough, she went back into her. Deeper. Deeper. Little ridges and bumps, but no friction, just a sweet slide inside her. Mindy was coming by the time it was halfway in, whatever muscles she had inside her pulling at what Lucia was giving, Mindy needing it to make her whole. Her ecstasy lengthened like a shadow at sunset. Drawn out by the small eternity it took Lucia to hit home between her legs.
Lucia smiled like the sun. “I’m so proud of you—you got it all in—you took all of it.”
Mindy actually found herself blushing. Really didn’t seem like the matching pair of facial expressions to have while dildos were being used. “It was you, right? Just a part of you—like the fangs and the skin and everything…” She looked at her thumb, a nasty cut on it, but nothing a Band-Aid wouldn’t cure. “Goddamn…”
“Sorry,” Lucia said, “I just…”
“It’s alright. Just a little warning next time?”
Lucia nodded, but couldn’t resist smirking.
Mindy could just tell it was because Lucia could feel her slickness coating the fronts of her thighs. Mindy worked herself off the dildo, that simple motion setting blood pounding in her ears, and she collapsed back down to Lucia’s chest. Skin cool as the pillow’s flipside. She took deep gulps of air, smelling the slight coppery scent of Lucia.
“I’m sore,” she moaned. It didn’t really hurt, but she played up the lingering discomfort. Let Lucia pet her and tut “poor baby” and get her cold bottled water off the nightstand. Lucia had colonized it before going to the bathtub. There was even a box of Band-Aids, one of which Lucia applied to Mindy’s wounded thumb followed by a little kiss.
Lucia put her thigh between Mindy’s legs. The chill was like a cold compress. She uncapped the bottle, the outside dotted with beads of condensation, and held it to Mindy’s lips. She drank greedily, thinking she must’ve sweated out at least a liter. Lucia canted the bottle away so Mindy didn’t drink too much, petted her sweaty hair, fed Mindy a little more as she sucked the sweat off her fingers.
“Still sore?” Lucia asked, and Mindy nodded. “Let me kiss it and make it better.”
She wiggled down the bed like a snake in reverse, thoughtfully pulling the sheets up over Mindy before she ducked under them. Mindy instantly gasped. Lucia was massaging her thighs, kissing her labia, setting up a gentle lapping motion with her tongue that drove all the aching out of her tightly pinched sex.
“Right, you’re bleeding a little,” Lucia reported, Mindy holding up the sheet to look at her. “But a little—a little. Jerry Steakley bled more when he lost that tooth in the third grade, and you’re not crying like a little bitch, so…”
Lucia licked but didn’t seem to even care about the blood, just dulling the ache. She was with Mindy, holding their eye contact, touching her gently until Mindy let the sheet drop and felt nothing but her soreness receding, a cool constant comfort filling her body.
“What did you mean?” Mindy asked, feeling sweaty and blotchy and perfect and puffy and beautiful, “‘let them kill me’?”
Lucia’s head raised under the covers—a ghost haunting Mindy’s vagina. She kept up a soft rub on and over Mindy’s legs. “I don’t know… Vampires don’t age, right? And I don’t have to worry about accidentally opening a window during sun-up. So, the only way I’m going out is if someone stakes me. And I think that’s more likely than me living it up until the zombie apocalypse. Is this really the best time?”
“Well, you’re not going anywhere.”
Lucia grinned, just visible through the sheer bedsheet. “True enough.” Then, still smiling: “I’m a vampire, Minz. I’m going down. I just don’t want to take you with me.”
“Maybe I want to go down with you.”
Lucia snickered.
“You’re thinking about sex, aren’t you?”
Lucia gave her a look like Can you blame me? The look she used to try and get away with everything. Then she broke into more laughter. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off instead of going down with me?”
“Honestly, it’s like dating a dude. I am so hetero right now, I should run for president.”
“You’ve got my vote.” Lucia did something with her lips that Mindy couldn’t adequately describe but that left her cross-eyed. “And my big, black cock…”
“El…” Mindy muttered, though she didn’t know if she was giving a warning or—Lucia was licking at her sex fast, not comforting Mindy anymore but arousing her, starting her up all over again.
Lucia threw the sheets off them, rising up over Mindy again in all her splendor, all her perfection, a blinding light in the darkness. When she asked, “Wanna keep going?” It was almost anticlimactic. Goddesses didn’t ask you whether you were up for round two, they just—had you.
“I don’t think I can move,” Mindy said apologetically.
“I’ll do the moving,” Lucia replied and turned Mindy over. And just looked at her, so hard Mindy could feel it. Lucia’s voice shook with sudden seriousness. “If you’re going to ask me to stop, you’d better ask now.”
“Will you be able to later?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to…”
“I trust you. Do it. I trust you.”
Mindy didn’t find out what would happen if she asked Lucia to stop. She never thought to.
CHAPTER 23
Mindy woke up to a fingernail raking over her shoulder. It’d been going on for a while and she’d gotten used to it—the feeling bleeding through into her dream, where she was a pile of leaves being raked. But this time, it’d been too hard and blood had been drawn.
“Sorry,” Lucia said unapologetically, leaning over to lick up the scant blood.
Mindy blinked awake, taking in the mellow dawn light. Downstairs a coffeemaker chugged, and cereal poured from the box into a bowl, but up here, in her bed, she heard the soft thump of a heartbeat that wasn’t her own.
“Is your heart beating?”
“Huh?” Lucia looked at her rising, falling breasts, pausing to admire them. “Oh yeah. It does that when I have fresh blood.” She leaned in to nuzzle at Mindy’s face, all kittenish. “Good dreams? Maybe about your super-hot girlfriend who loves hardcore fucking?”
“Yeah. I dreamt you had two heads.”
“I’d be twice as pretty, but I’d have to spend twice as much on makeup.” Lucia’s lip curled. “Tough call.”
“Hey, were you watching me sleep?” Mindy asked, beaching herself further up on her pillow as she came more awake.
“Yeah. It was super boring. I’m not sure how Edward Cullen does it.” More blood beaded on the small cut, and Lucia kissed it away.
They were under the sheets, only some of the dim light making it in. It landed on Lucia’s body, where sweat and touch had smeared her makeup, sending little sparkles rippling around her skin. Mindy followed one with her fingertip, plucking at Lucia’s skin with her nail. Nothing happened. No white line. She felt like she couldn’t break the skin if she tried.
“Can you even feel it?” she asked.
“For now,” Lucia replied. She responded in kind to Mindy, drawing a cross on her skin in the white carvings of her fingernail. As soon as it was complete, Mindy felt Lucia stiffen. “You think it’s all in my head?”
Mindy turned over so it couldn’t hurt her. “If it’s a choice between it being some trauma and you being some kind of…” Mindy winced just thinking of the words she might use. “I don’t feel like you’re unholy.”
“Sometimes I do.” She drew a cross on Mindy’s arm, then another, then another. Their sudden presence made her shake. “I had a dream that you didn’t want me anymore, so you got them tattooed all over your body.”
&nb
sp; Mindy took Lucia’s wrist with one hand, rubbed at the marks with the other, massaging the crosses back into her skin. “I would never do that. I wouldn’t even need to—you’d stay away if I asked.”
“How can you trust me, Minz? I don’t even trust myself.” Lucia’s hand went back to work, picking at the Band-Aid on her neck to examine the bite marks. With Lucia’s saliva at work, they had healed fast. “I wish I could be human for you.”
Mindy pulled Lucia into a tight hug, breaking her cold with body warmth, feeling Lucia give in and rub her back, beginning to kiss her chest.
No knock, the knob just turned and the door opened. “Sorry to bother you, Sleeping Beauty, I just need to borrow your car…” Her mom froze. Mindy froze, feeling like she’d just swallowed an ice cube tray. And Lucia smiled politely.
“Hi, Mrs. M, me and Minz were just having a sleepover.”
A look of profound disbelief interrupted her mom’s shock. “You’re naked!”
Lucia shrugged. “I sleep in the nude.”
“You’re wearing a strap-on!”
Lucia laughed and waved her mom off. “I was having intercourse with your daughter!” She paused. “That was such a bad excuse.”
Her mom managed to move enough to point a finger. “Both of you, dressed, downstairs, now.”
The door slammed shut behind her. Mindy wondered if she still needed her keys.
* * *
Downstairs, they sat at the breakfast nook while her mom explained things to her dad. Mindy could hear their “discussion voices” through the kitchen door. She felt angry, but not in any discernible direction. Usually when she got in trouble—which did happen—there was a sense of shame. For all that Mrs. Murphy was a mom worthy of Austin, she could swing a guilt trip with the best of them. But what did she have to be ashamed of, sleeping with Lucia? It was her choice. What, were they expecting her to wait for Texas to legalize gay marriage, then marry Lucia, then sleep with her?
“I’m hungry,” Lucia said, looking all-around disgruntled at being forced into a flannel shirt and some of Mindy’s mom’s jeans. “Do your parents keep any Pop-Tarts around? Maybe an Eggo?”
“Not a great time, El.”
“It’s before noon. I think breakfast is still an option…”
“They caught us having sex, Lucia!”
“Don’t be overdramatic, they caught us after we had sex. Can you imagine how frustrated I’d be if they had interrupted during? Unless they’d let us finish before they started yelling. That’s what I would do if I were a parent. Like, what, are you not gonna be a slut if there isn’t an orgasm? No—”
“How can you be so calm?” Mindy interrupted, having to grind her voice down to keep from shouting.
Lucia took Mindy’s hands. “Because it’s no big deal! I mean, you were going to tell them sooner or later, right? At least this way, there’s no awkward monologue—two girls, in bed together, naked, strap-on. Speaks for itself.”
“Yes! Yes, that’s what I’m concerned about! I don’t know a lot about dating, but I know that you have to ease parents into it. First you say you like a boy, then that you’re going on a date, then that you’re going to a dance, and at some point, oh, I don’t know.” Mindy wagged her head about. “‘I guess I’m not a virgin, huh?’ They still think this is a phase! They don’t even know I’m a lesbian!”
“Well, it’s not like it was the biggest secret in the world. I mean, look at your shoes.”
“What’s wrong with my shoes?”
“Nothing. I would wear those shoes…if I were a boy…”
Mindy made a noise that wasn’t quite a groan and wasn’t quite a growl. She had no idea how she could be so in love with Lucia one minute and then the next, Lucia turned into a total asshole that drove her crazy. It was like watching Once Upon A Time or something.
Lucia opened her arms wide. “Come here. Come to my bosom.” When Mindy didn’t come to her bosom fast enough for Lucia’s satisfaction, Lucia embraced her anyway. “Listen, here’s what they’re talking about right now: ‘Yeah, sure, Mindy’s a lesbian—but look at how cute her same-sex lover is!’ I’m a cheerleader! But like a cool goth cheerleader who reads Proust or some shit!”
“You don’t even know who Proust is.”
“He invented Tic-Tacs. Anyway, if you were his firstborn son and he caught you naked in bed with me, your dad would be pouring you a shot right now. You’d be smoking cigars and going trout-fishing… I don’t know, I’m not good at boys, I’m a lesbian now. Point is, yeah, there’s a little cognitive dissonance because we’re both women, but if his daughter has to date a woman, there’s me and then there’s Angelina Jolie. And have you seen how thin Angie is these days? It’s kinda creepy. Plus, what’s with all the little kids—”
Mindy jerked away from Lucia.
“I want you to take this seriously!”
“I am taking it seriously!” Lucia protested. “You’re just overreacting. The truth is, right now, your dad is thinking that if he were thirty years younger and a woman and a lesbian, he’d wanna do me too.”
“Please don’t talk about my dad finding you hot.”
“I’m sure your mom’s going, ‘If I had to do it with a woman’—”
“No, not either of my parents!”
“I’m not saying they’re sniffing my panties or anything…”
“I swear to Christ, they are not gonna need to forbid me or ground me or anything, because I am never having sex again. I can feel my ovaries shriveling like a raisin in the sun.”
“Oh, I saw that! Did Proust write that?”
“No.”
“Darn.”
Mindy took a deep breath. “Is that really what they’re saying? That you’re a catch and they’re proud of me and—all that?”
“Uh, no.”
Mindy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not listening to them?”
“No, I’m talking to you.”
“You have super-hearing. Why aren’t you listening in on them?”
“Well, I didn’t think to, Mindy, I was hungry. Say, do you have any PopTarts?”
“Even if we did,” Mindy hissed, “do you really think my parents would be cool with you grabbing breakfast?”
“Hey, I took their daughter’s virginity, what’s a toaster strudel next to that?”
Mr. and Mrs. Murphy came back in then. They both looked serious and distantly lost—that mix of confusion and bitterness it seemed you only got from parents. It gave them good poker faces. Moving in fumbling lockstep like it was a dance they’d discussed but never practiced, Mr. Murphy filled a carafe with water from the refrigerator while Mrs. Murphy stood before the table.
“Hi kids, I just wanted to apologize for worrying you, we weren’t…we’re not mad. We would just like to have a safe, reasonable discussion about certain matters…of a sexual nature. You might say. So we’re going to have a family meeting, which will include our guest.” She nodded to Lucia. “And we are not going to yell or fight or make ultimatums, we’re just going to talk about what’s been going on and what our response should be as a family, and as Lucia.” She nodded to Lucia again.
Mr. Murphy brought the carafe and four cups. They all sat down, the girls against the window, fenced in.
Mrs. Murphy reached into her pocket, bringing out a seashell. “Now this is the Talking Shell.”
“Mom, not the Talking Shell,” Mindy protested.
“Mindy,” Mrs. Murphy said archly, “does not have the Talking Shell, and so she is not allowed to speak. That’s because this is a discussion, and not an argument with everyone talking over each other. Now, before we begin, does anyone have something they would like to say?”
Mr. Murphy and Mindy looked identically downcast. Lucia raised her hand.
Mrs. Murphy passed her the shell. “You don’t have to raise your hand, Lucia, you can just ask for the shell.”
“Oh. Okay.” Lucia took it. “I’d just like to say, first off, and I don’t know if this helps, but Mindy isn
’t, you know…a slut or anything—”
“We don’t like to use judgmental words,” Mr. Murphy said.
“Talking Shell,” Mrs. Murphy interrupted his interruption.
“I can respond without the Talking Shell.”
“You should keep it to a minimum, dear, otherwise there’s no point—”
“You’re the one who’s talking now—”
“You said we can respond—”
“Little response, little response.”
“Guys!” Lucia interjected, holding up the shell. “I get it, nothing wrong with being a slut, but Mindy isn’t passing it around. Just so you know. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one she’s lesbianing with…”
“Pretty sure?” Mindy muttered.
“Talking Shell,” Mrs. Murphy said.
“Little response,” Mindy retorted, and they both fell silent. All eyes were on Lucia.
“Oh, me again? Yeah, and she didn’t throw it at me either. We’d been—we have been—dating for a while.”
“Can I have the Talking Shell?” Mr. Murphy asked.
Lucia passed it to him. “This is working out well, I like this.”
“So, how long is a while?” Mr. Murphy asked. “A year, the better part of a year, more than a year? How long have you been keeping this relationship a secret from us?” He pushed the Talking Shell to Mindy.
“I don’t want it.”
“Mindy, take the Talking Shell,” Mrs. Murphy said.
Gritting her teeth, Mindy put a finger on the shell. “It’s, uh, it’s hard to say, because we weren’t really officially dating or—it’s like, we were really good friends for a long time, and then we kissed, and then we went back to being friends, and then we had a fight, and then we went back to being friends, and then it got…” Mindy spoke like someone was performing the Heimlich maneuver on her, “sexual.”
Lucia jumped. “It’s like we were having a sleepover, and it was so much fun, we thought if we could just add boning to it, it would be the perfect relationship.”
“Lucia, you don’t have the Talking Shell,” Mrs. Murphy chided gently.
“I’m piggybacking on Mindy’s Talking Shell. That’s not allowed?” They shook their heads. “But I’m agreeing with her!”
Ex-Wives of Dracula Page 30