by Nicole Conn
They kissed deeply, Elena’s hands in Peyton’s hair, her body moving in a rhythm suddenly as natural as anything she had ever known, even when Peyton was not supposed to be the kind of body on top of her, only used to Barry’s rutting motiherruttingon, feeling his penis break a barrier—and with Peyton there was no barrier because she so desperately wanted Peyton. Wanted Peyton inside her, wanted Peyton’s mouth on her neck, loved feeling Peyton’s lips eagerly tasting her skin, each grazing nip sending an intense searing need that Elena beckoned further, and the further it took her, the more Peyton wanted her, needed to be there, needed to taste what she had been waiting for so long, easing herself between Elena’s legs, and smelling the deep richness of Elena, the scent of pure desire, her tongue now just barely taking Elena in, gently taking her in, then unable to hold back, now hungrily exploring, her mouth fully upon Elena.
Elena screamed as her hips bucked into Peyton’s mouth, her desire to be had equal to Peyton’s need, their mingling a coming together, Peyton feeling the sweet wet all over her face, rapturous in her need to please Elena, as Elena swelled into a smoothly pearly peak, Peyton feeling Elena’s legs tightening, faster, urging Peyton into her, Peyton savoring every second of bringing this to Elena, this final moment, feeling her come, come hard in her mouth, the pulsing throbbing release as Elena rasped “Peyton,” her beautiful neck arched in ecstasy.
And as she continued to come, Peyton quickly withdrew, thrust her fingers into her, climbing up beside her, fucking her, fucking her as deeply and as quickly as she could, then slowing the pace as she watched Elena’s face, void of anything but sheer ecstasy, holding her at bay a second longer, the edge of her palm easing against Elena’s clitoris as she continued to fuck Elena until she saw that she was going to come again.
“Stay with me!” Peyton’s voice a ragged plea. “Stay with me, Elena!”
Elena’s eyes opened as she came and she saw in Peyton’s eyes the sheer intensity of Peyton’s being, as she choked out something, she had no idea what, as she felt herself fall into a world where only she and Peyton existed, their bodies entwined, inside each other.
And Peyton, for the first time ever, felt her mind stop, as she joined Elena in this place that was not here but another place in time, and all she knew was the two of them, engaged, in union, in this most natural and perfect place.
*
Afterward, Elena’s eyes opened briefly in the dark. She lay in Peyton’s arms, her limbs liquid, her whole body feeling deliciously gratified, yet not quite sated…there could be no such place where desire wasn’t just around the corner. She felt cherished in Peyton’s arms, felt completely loved, and she knew, with complete certainty that giving herself over to Peyton had been the right thing.
She glanced at Peyton, watching her beautiful face as she slept, and she felt an immense swell of gratitude toward this amazing woman, and feeling tears, she closed her eyes, and allowed herself to feel this moment, completely, fully, owning this entirely new part of herself.
*
For the next week, while Barry was busy with a plebusy wiweeklong convention in town, and Nash was visiting some relatives of Barry’s for Christmas break, Elena and Peyton stole every conceivable second to be together.
At moments it was a mere grappling at the door and Elena had to dash off, other times they had an hour or two where they would enwrap their bodies, unable to quell their need, both driven with more and more intensity to have what they craved.
“You’re like air for me,” Elena said at one moment. “I feel like I cannot breathe when I’m not with you.”
Peyton could only nod. She understood in some depth of her that their hunger and need for each other was so huge it would consume them and everything in their path. And knew she should care but she did not care.
Two women, near fifty, sit across from each other, obviously still so very in love...
“...oh, my God,” Nicole says, laughing, “at first I thought she was some kind of crazy stalker! She wanted to bring me dinner, she wanted to take me for a massage and I’m like—who is this straight housewife, and doesn’t she know anything about lesbian etiquette?”
“After I saw her documentary about her premature son,” Marina sighs, “and everything she had been through with him, I just wanted to do things for her. Make her feel good.”
They kiss, deeply.
“Marina makes everything better.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I know so.”
Elena came into Tyler’s office while he was putting his finishing touches on this sweet little webisode.
Hearing her walk in, Tyler suggested, without turning around, “Just give me a second.”
She walked in with a huge grin on her face, her usual fastidious braid gone. Her hair was almost a caricature of dishevelment, still sex-mussed from having jus>
Tyler looked at her then, and his head literally snapped into a vaudevillian double-take.
He jumped up and began to circle this new Elena, staring her up and down, his eyes virtually popping with surprise. He twirled her about, settled her, then stopped, shook his head.
“Okay, I’ll bite.” A big grin spread over his face. “So what’s with the shimmering new and improved you?”
“Oh God, Tyler.” She grabbed him in a deep and engulfing embrace, then walked him about his shop, gesturing all over his environment. “I just thought all this was a bunch of silly sappy—”
“Do tell.” He smirked victoriously.
“I just had the most earth-shattering sex of my life.”
Tyler looked impressed.
“With a woman!” Elena appeared as surprised as she did self-satisfied.
“Oh...baby girl!” Tyler literally burst into tears, so thrilled was he to hear that his friend, his dearest friend, finally had found some emotional nourishment.
“I’m in love for the first time—for the only time, Tyler, in my life.”
He waited.
“With Peyton.”
Tyler’s eyes brightened with delight as he picked her up and twirled her around, shrieking in ecstasy, “You’ve found your Twin Flame, my sweet wonderful friend.”
He held her in front of him, and emphatically stated it again: “Your Twin Flame.”
“It’s okay.” Elena’s smile was beyond containment. But a question of conscience flitted across her eyes. “Isn’t it?”
“Yes, my beautiful angel.” Tyler held her close. “It’s okay.”
*
It was late at night and Peyton was sitting in Wave’s living room. Wave poured another shot of scotch for both of them.
“I guess I never knew what the phrase ‘insanely in love’ really meant,” Peyton mooned. “Thank God she’s not a controlled substance.”
“Yeah, she’s far more dangerous,” Wave said, shaking her head at her friend. “You have clearly overlooked someblarlooked patently obvious issues, my love, and I don’t want to burst your love bubble—but what you are doing is the very definition of insanity: Gorgeous straight housewife, who’s never had sex with a woman—thinks she’s died and gone to heaven. Now what?”
Peyton sighed, again, pretty self-satisfied. “Oh my GOD. The way she tastes….smells, feels. You know me, Wave...I’ve always been a huge fan of…well, you know—”
“What—eating out, goin’ down, eatin’ pussy, chowin’ on the Vjay-jay, snackin’ on the kibbles & bits—you’re doin’ it for chrissakes and you can’t say it—will it make it better if it’s clinical? Oral sex?”
Peyton wasn’t going to let her friend ruin this for her. “I’m just sayin’—this goes beyond the beyond. I have to say I thought men were the only ones that went insane over women—really. I know that sounds utterly antifeminist, but making love to her goes beyond anything I could have imagined.”
“Brilliant. And now what? What about her husband? Her family? And forget the pressure she’s going to feel from the church—not to mention culturally. If she thinks her parents dis
owned her before—blimey girlfriend, what do you think they’ll do about all this?”
Peyton’s smile faded. “Can I just stay in my happy place for another second?”
“Happy place—yeah, the one where you two walk off into the sunset? No dead bodies strewn behind?”
“Now who’s Miss Gloom and Doom?” Peyton cracked. “What happened to me feeling good? Being happy?”
“Okay, my friend.” Wave picked up a piece of licorice, gnawed off a bite. “Let’s say she was brought into your life so you could know love is out there, to show you anything’s better than Marg-e-RAT, to help you heal…or all of the above.” Whipping the licorice about as a lectern prop, she became philosophical. “It’s possible that’s what this is. And that’s all she is. A sort of connective tissue to the next step. But if you bloody think this is going to be anything else, well, Peyton, then you’re just lying to yourself. And I can’t do that with you because you are my very best friend. You’re my acest pal. I can’t lie to you, or allow you to do so to yourself.”
“Okay now my happy place has a big foreclosure sign on it.” Peyton glared at her friend. “You happy now?”
Peyton got up and left the house.
Wave stared at the piece of licorice, then addressed it. “Well I tried.”
*
Peyton worked late into the night, keenly aware she was precariously close to missing her deadline. She realized that even though she spent half her time waiting for the brief moments of time she and Elena could steal away together, she had seriously let her work slide. She knew, if she were to be honest with herself wiwith he, that she was being consumed not just by the time she spent submerged into that rich and textured world she now referred to as “the bubble,” but worse yet, by all the many moments in which she unproductively waited for Elena to arrive to join her there. Lost moments, daydreaming, reliving, pondering the future—anything and everything but attending to her writing.
“I…I have just never had a moment when my head stops,” she’d confessed to Elena.
“What?” Elena had asked.
Elena’s beautiful hair cascaded over the length of Peyton’s stomach while Peyton lightly stroked her fingers through it. As much as Elena relished the chills the caressing sent through her body, unused to being so utterly pampered and so lovingly taken care of, Peyton equally relished the exquisite sensation of touching Elena, the way it burned the edge of her fingertips. She could literally feel the energy between Elena’s skin and her hand as she raised her palm just above the surface of Elena’s skin, feeling the current of desire, need, want, passion all in that space, the explosive charge of a mere touch unlike anything she had ever experienced.
“My head…my brain…it never shuts off,” Peyton mused, “except for when I’m with you. When we make love…it blots out. I’ve always wondered if that was even possible or what it might feel like—but with you, my mind literally goes blank, stops processing and my body takes over and feels. Feels, Elena.” Peyton looked deeply into Elena’s eyes. “You can’t even imagine how that is for me.”
Elena looked up into her lover’s eyes. “Well, I can’t say I entirely understand…all I know is that when I’m with you, I feel right. I feel absolutely right. Nothing has ever felt more right or certain to me.”
Peyton smiled now, thinking about this. Was it yesterday, two days ago? She couldn’t quite remember, as some of their hasty scramblings were beginning to mesh together in her mind. Every time it was a variation on the same theme. The moment they were in contact, they were unclothed, crazy greedy to get more of what neither of them could get enough of, tearing at each other, hunger, need, desire all overcoming anything in their path.
Last week Peyton had jumped when her phone rang, jarring her from her reminiscing.
“Hi, it’s me.”
“Hi…” Peyton had smiled.
“Is it...is it okay if I come over?”
“Of course!”
“Great, then let me in.”
“What?”
“I’m at the door.”
Peyton had dashed to the front door, and from the moment Elena forcefully made her way in, taking Peyton’s face in her hands, hungrily kissing her as she maneuvered her to="0vered h the chaise lounge, everything turned into this new place for Peyton, this place of sheer feeling.
And for Elena, the moment she laid eyes on Peyton, smelled Peyton’s cologne, touched her fingers to the soft skin of Peyton’s cheek, grasped the sinewy muscles of Peyton’s arms, Elena’s old life, her entire universe faded...all of it disappeared the moment she was in Peyton’s arms.
*
“…yeah, because Martin Luther was so blown away by the stars in the sky he decided to mimic those stars by bringing the ‘lights of the stars’ right into his own home. And that was like in the sixteenth century. I always wondered how this all started,” Tori mused as she and Nash, Barry and Elena were all trimming the Christmas tree. As usual, Tori was festively decked out; green skirt, green and red polka-dotted sweater and a Christmas tie, full of large “obnoxious Santas” Nash had groaned when he saw her. She had stuck out her tongue and put a Santa hat on Nash insisting he get into the spirit.
“You did, eh?” Barry asked her, helping the kids string the lights.
“Yeah, and while I was digging into it I found some other cool things, you might like to know.”
“Here we go,” Nash sighed, but good naturedly.
Elena went to the kitchen, still listening to their banter as she prepared their annual eggnog. Every year they played out this family ritual. They all had Elena’s famous eggnog while they trimmed the tree and then they would discuss the holidays and try to find the most interesting place they could plan to travel to for Barry’s annual vacation, which took place in late February.
As Elena brought the tray out she stopped. She watched the three of them, giggling, nudging one another playfully, and she suddenly felt terrified to hurt this family that she loved with every fiber of her being.
“Yeah, bet you don’t know what other amazing things happened on Christmas Day.”
“What’s more amazing than Santa?” Nash teased.
“Well, snooty face, tell me this…what do the twelve days of Christmas even stand for?”
“Shopping at the mall, wrapping presents, eating the best food of the year,” Nash answered unequivocally.
“Uh, not so much. So the song was created to help kids learn to count, ergo, counting down from twelve. But what it was originally about was the Christian tradition honoring the time the Wise Men arrived twelve days after Jesus was born, which made it all official like. And speaking of food, since that’s all you ever think about, plum pudding used to be a soup with, like, mutton, dried plums and beef all gooped up together.”
Nash rubbed his belly. “Ohh, tell me more.”
Tori nabbed a candy cane, unwrapped it, and taunted Nash with it. “And the candy cane was created by a German choirmaster all the way back in the sixteen hundreds—you know why?” “Nope.”
“To keep young toddlers quiet,” she gently poked it into his mouth, “during services. First they were just straight stick candy. Only later did they curve them to mimic the shepherd’s staff in honor of the season. I know all you care about is getting out of school and getting a bunch of presents, but quite a few other things happened on Christmas Day. It also happened to be the same day King Arthur pulled Excalibur from the Stone, Hong Kong fell to the Japanese during World War Two and Charlemagne was crowned the Holy Roman Emperor.”
“Whoop-de-doo.” Laughing, Nash and Tori leaned into one another. “Only one important thing happens at Christmas and it’s this.” He grabbed Tori’s hand, led her to the mistletoe and gave her a sweet kiss.
Barry smiled, genuinely pleased.
She watched them, so happy, so completely content with their lives. This was her family. She was here. But not here. A chill ran up her spine in spite of the heavy red Christmas sweater she was wearing. She suddenly had
never felt so empty or lonely in her life.
*
Peyton sat bundled in a deep teal sweater reading outside by the gazebo when her cell phone rang. She picked it up eagerly.
“Peyton I’m so sorry...I cannot believe this. Nash and Barry aren’t going to go golfing after all. I’ve…I can’t really leave. It would seem really strange that I’m not here. I’m…”
“Sure,” Peyton replied in disappointment, her voice tight. “Sure. No problem.”
Elena had rushed into the bedroom in her nightgown, sat at the far end of the bed to find some privacy to reach Peyton.
Peyton sat at the other end of the line, in the middle of an assignment, trying to sound casual. “Look, Elena, I know you have a crazy busy life. I do too. Don’t worry. It’s okay.”
“No, it is not okay,” Elena replied emphatically. “I know this is the third time I’ve had to cancel...but please know that it’s not okay. I want...” Elena looked around the small room, feeling like a caged animal. “I need to see you.”
Elena jumped when Barry opened the door, came up behind her.
“Yes, Millie, well I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow. ’Bye.” Elena quickly got off the call, tried to regain her composure as she nonchalantly set the phone on the dresser. Barry came over, leaned up against her. She moved out of his range, trying to put a couple of pieces of laundry away when he grabbed her by the arm and playfullifyand play toppled her upon the bed.
Their faces were very close. He leaned to kiss her, which she allowed to happen, because she could not think fast enough. But as she felt his lips, so unlike Peyton’s, so hard, nothing more than a mashing of skin that felt dead to her now, so unfeeling, and then Barry trying to pry her own open with his tongue, she had to push him away. She thought she might become physically sick, her heart racing. She abruptly sat up.