by Nicole Conn
“Whoa…”
“I…I’m sorry—”
“What’s with you?”
“I...I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”
“Long day, right. You know what? We’re both busy—and we’re both tired.” His voice grew tight. “Maybe I’ve had a long day too.”
“I…I just really don’t feel very well.”
Barry looked at Elena and then gently put a hand to her forehead as if to see if she were running a fever, then let his hand rest on her shoulder. He smiled sweetly. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You have been doing too much. You need to get some rest.”
She smiled bleakly.
“Good thing I’m not the jealous type.” Barry grinned. “Yep. That’s one thing I’ve never had to worry about.”
Barry rubbed her arm absently, as if already thinking about something else. “Hey babe, I really need for you to look over my speech for the fundraiser. Do you think you could do that a little later? Or even first thing tomorrow morning? And don’t forget, you’re meeting with Millie Tuesday.” He mindlessly kissed her arm. “You know what? I’m really bushed too.”
Barry got up, walked into the bathroom. “And make sure you get my blue suit into the dry cleaners tomorrow,” he called. “You keep forgetting it,” he yelled and then closed the door.
Elena sighed, rubbing her forehead. She glanced around the room. It could have been a locked cage. She was trapped.
*
The next day, the very first moment she could, Elena sped to Peyton’s.
Peyton opened the door, they fell into one another’s arms, Peyton took her to the bedroom and made love to her quickly, aggressively, Elena matching Peyton’s ardor, each kiss rougher, more agonizing than the next.
Elena rasped Peyton’s name as she came, hard, as hard as she had ever come, more intensely than she ever had, and pulling Peyton to her, she tried to return this pleasure, this unbridled pleasure she could not believe she had not known could exist until tthaxist unhis late in life. But as she attempted to do go down on her, Peyton moved on top of her, holding her down, grinding the gorgeous swell of flesh, feeling the softness of her hair against her own, Peyton’s body, sweaty, entwined with her own as she ground into her, bruising, a rhythm aggressive and exotic, Elena feeling her desire grow as Peyton’s breath became more ragged.
“Elena…ohh…fuck...” A whisper plaintive in her ear, as Peyton’s neck strained into an arch with the pleasure of coming, her throaty voice strangled in ecstasy as she came, and then came again, riding her as Elena held her with one arm, teased her nipple with her other hand, willing Peyton to come again, and when Peyton did she felt her release, felt her body seizing in pleasure, rippling over her, as Peyton choked out a final orgasm, her arms trembling as she collapsed upon her, sobbing in a sort of liberated aftermath, as Elena heard Peyton whisper her name over and over again, and Elena lived for that voice…that tender love-wracked voice in her ear…
An hour later, Peyton’s face was buried between Elena’s legs, trying to hold Elena off for as long as she could, teasing her, taunting her, Elena finally screaming, “Now…please….please, Peyton,” and as Peyton moved up to her, and began thrusting into her, slowly at first and then with deeper strokes Elena began to come in a way she never could have imagined, from every source imaginable, her body moving into a kind of rapture she could not have conceived of before.
When Elena could open her eyes, when she could focus on light, and shadow, and depth, when she was fully back in a three-dimensional world, she gazed at Peyton, her eyes filled with love, gratitude, wonder…the emotions raw and exposed.
“How can your fingers feel so goddamn much better than a penis?”
Peyton rolled over, taking Elena in. She arched an eyebrow and then responded very slowly and sexily, “And how can you taste so fucking good?”
Elena smiled.
“Cunt,” Peyton purred…and then with real desire, “cunt….” And then lacing it with an even raspier sexuality, “Cuuuuunnnnt.”
“Honestly.” Elena giggled, but blushed, a bit embarrassed.
“Elena, I know you have no frame of reference for this…” Peyton adjusted her body so that they were still as entwined as possible, but so that she could see clearly into Elena’s face, “and while I hate to admit that I’ve been around the block a few more times than I should have been...I just have to tell you—the way you taste, feel, smell—you make the term cunt beautiful. I’ve always loathed that word and felt it belonged right up there with all the other pejorative terms men use to demean women. But, seriously, Elena…there is nothing more delicious, more delectable, more exquisite than your cunt—which has in and of itself, removed years of damage from my psyche…and restored this much maligned word to a place of honor!”
As Peyton proceeded to go down on her lover, Elena laughed so freely at an idea and concept that had always caused her such intense shame, laughed with abandon and celebration. oftion.
*
“So, how’s that whole adoption thing going for you?” Wave asked as they shared a glass of wine outside under Peyton’s gazebo.
“Oh…well, you know,” Peyton answered, evasively.
“I know what? That you’ve turned into a love zombie and nothing else in the world seems to matter, not me, your dearest friend, your work—or the fact that the only thing you’ve pined for the past few years is a child?”
“Okay.” Peyton nodded, defenseless. “The truth is, both Elena and I discussed the whole notion of adopting right now and felt it was better to put baby plans on hold while...while this is—”
“—is going where?” Wave asked. “Until you’ve burnt one another to a crisp with passion and you are no longer capable of tending children? Or until you’ve run off to have children together? Or…”
“You know what? It’ll happen when it happens, Wave.” Peyton knew her tone had grown testy, but the fact of the matter was that it was Peyton whose plans had been put on hold. She really had no idea what Elena was going to do. While she hadn’t lied to Wave about the fact that they had discussed the bizarre coincidence of meeting at the adoption center, and that neither of them had made great headway down that path, the reality was that Peyton had no idea what Elena’s plans were for children in the future. Any conversation along those lines had been cut short by more pressing needs, meaning being with one another.
Now Peyton sat reading. Wave had left and Peyton could not help but replay the conversation over and over, her OCD rearing its omnipresent head and only reprieved when her phone rang. She picked it up right away, expectant. But as she heard the tone in Elena’s voice, the joy quickly faded.
“...God, I so badly want to see you.” Elena sounded distraught.
“Hey it’s okay…it’s okay.”
“No. It isn’t.”
Long silence.
“Nash is coming.”
Click.
Peyton looked at the phone. This had now become a way of life.
*
Elena tuned out Barry’s sermon, as she had every sermon for the past several months, the sermons seeming more and more interminable. At first all she did was obsess about how to manipulate every minute of her day to get to Peyton. All that mattered was being with Peyton. If she could not be with this woman for whom she created contortion upon contortion,="b contor racking up white lies a mile long, letting so many things slip through the cracks to make it happen, she feared that someone could put a gun to her head and she would gladly have the trigger pulled. She used the lie that was easiest, constantly telling Barry and the kids that she was “working.” Working on the project. Having meetings for the project. Long brainstorming sessions, and because they had done enough research before they had come together like a thunderous collision, Elena had enough interesting information to make most of her deceitfulness ring true. She had one goal and only one goal. Finding time to be with Peyton. And when that happened, all that mattered to her was being inside their bubble, being c
ompletely wrapped up in her. And afterward to relive over and over every moment, her mind replaying lovemaking as Barry droned on in the background.
But for the past few weeks, her mind had gone to a darker place. The world in which she lived was no longer orderly and predictable, it was fissured and full of semitruths; the falsehoods that so easily tumbled from her lips could no longer be counted as white lies. She was telling bolder untruths about where she had been and what she was up to. She hadn’t allowed this element—the fact that she was committing adultery—play into what she was doing until a couple of weeks ago when she had walked into the house, just moments after having the most extremely intense sex with Peyton, and as she opened the door, still smelling of Peyton, she ran headlong into her son. The look of surprise, not just at their near collision, but the confusion in his eyes as he studied his mother, completely undid her.
“Where…where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you for the past hour.”
“What…”
“My coach’s retirement party?”
It had completely slipped her mind.
“Where have you been?” Nash demanded. “And why do you look like that? You look like you’ve…fallen down a hill or something.”
“I…I got in a bit of scrape...caught my skirt in the car door,” Elena replied lamely.
“Well, can you pull yourself together so I don’t miss the whole party?” Nash’s voice was full of hurt and at the same time held the demanding tones of someone who knew he was in the right.
“Yes, of course sweetie…just give me a moment…I’ll get…put some makeup on. Get in the car—I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“God, Mom,” Nash sighed as she darted to the bedroom, “what’s with you lately?”
*
“I’m sorry I couldn’t call you earlier,” Elena grieved. It was much later and she was calling from the living room. Everyone was asleep. “Look…I know I told you I would find a way to get over there tomorrow, but I think I need to lie low for a few days. Nash is starting to watch my every move…and…well...” Elena didn’t know what else to say.e to saont>
Peyton waited and then asked what both lived inside their minds, daily.
“How long do you think we can keep doing this, Elena?”
*
Elena fussed with Nash’s collar, under his blue crew neck jersey. He kept pushing her away, grumpy, as they stood outside, Barry loading the car with duffel bags and a suitcase. Tori pulled out a beautiful origami Valentine heart for Elena, and presented it to her.
“I’m too old for youth camp,” Nash muttered. “Really, I’m not a kid anymore.”
“Okay, we’ll send you over to the seniors while Tori and I whoop it up,” Barry jibed good-naturedly.
“Come on, sweetie.” Elena put an arm about her son, but he shrugged it off. “You know you always have fun.”
“Whatever.” Nash rolled his eyes. “And what are you going to be doing? While we’re gone?”
They all turned to her, waiting for her answer. “Well, I…I’ll be catching up on the housework—you know how it’s always easier to get things done when you’re not around. Nothing terribly fascinating.” She swiveled to Tori. “Thank you sweetie. This is beautiful. I didn’t know you did origami.”
“Yeah…it’s so amazing. I just got into it a couple of days ago. It’s such a fascinating and beautiful art form.” She cocked her head to inspect Elena. “You know, Japanese lovers used to hide secret messages within the folds. Pretty cool huh?”
Elena blanched.
They all stood there, shuffling about, a bit uncomfortable.
“Well, thank you, Tori,” Barry concluded blithely. “Now in you go.”
Tori turned to Elena, hugged her. Elena convinced Nash to give her a solid hug goodbye, and when Barry came to get his, she moved to the car, patting him gently on the arm and pecking him on the cheek. “Drive safely.”
“We should be back tomorrow afternoon. I’ll call you when we hit the road.”
“Sure…but just in case I’m out running errands…call my cell, okay?”
“Yeah.” Barry looked at his wife.
She smiled, gently, then turned to the kids. “Have fun you two!”
She stepped aside from the car, and waved as they pulled out, all the while the ticking time bomb going off inside her, waiting to move as quickly as she could to get to Peyton. She hadn’t seen"bladn’t her in a week, and the wait had been interminable, unbearable.
*
Peyton’s palm just barely touched Elena, skimming the surface of her fine, smooth stomach. Touching her, stroking her like this, had now become a most favored pastime. Each time, Peyton found herself amazed by the extremes of physical sensation that actually could occur in her by simply caressing Elena’s skin.
“...when I touch your skin...it’s...” Peyton’s breath caught as she felt the ecstasy of this simple new phenomena. “God, with you...everything’s so different...so...”
Elena took Peyton’s hand, allowed her to trace her body, feeling every graze, then guided Peyton’s hand slowly over the mound of softness to the core of her pleasure, and just as Peyton began stroking Elena, Elena nabbed Peyton’s hand and flipped Peyton over.
“What are you doing?” Peyton giggled nervously.
But Elena pinned Peyton’s arms beside her, teased her tongue up the ridge of Peyton’s neck to behind her ear, then gently nibbled her way over the lobe, kissing her forehead, tracing kisses over her eyebrows and down the ridge of her nose, stopping for a generous kiss at Peyton’s mouth and then Elena stopped, looked closely at Peyton, her eyes questioning.
“What…what….Elena?”
Elena had begun to move downward, and Peyton panicked.
“Elena, what do you…”
“I’m doing what I want,” Elena proclaimed and continued to kiss her way down the length of Peyton’s body, gently biting the soft edge at Peyton’s pelvic bone, Peyton’s hips jumping in delight.
Peyton made one last effort to move from Elena’s command, but Elena was deftly removing control from her as she began to make love to Peyton, confident and in command.
Peyton trembled, terrified to let go, but Elena did not let up, and would not allow Peyton to hide. Elena slowly, deliberately, and certainly began to fuck Peyton, and as Peyton felt more and more, the delirious sensation not only of being made love to, but being made love to by someone who so desired her, so completely wanted her, heightened every sensation exponentially, beyond her comprehension.
Elena never hesitated. She had wanted to do this for so long. The only thing stopping her before had been fear that she could not please Peyton nearly as much as Peyton pleased her, but as with everything else that happened with Peyton, going down on her was the most natural thing in the world.
Elena’s mouth found Peyton, tasting the female of her, her musky sweet desire, luxuriating in Peyton’s craving, knowing that as she trailed her tongue along the folds and fullness, she could feel Peyton harden, and finally knew the power in owning anog in owninther so completely, indulging herself in taking Peyton to a place she somehow instinctually knew.
And Peyton stopped trying to understand, and just let herself feel, relinquishing control, she stopped pushing Elena away, finally succumbing to someone loving her, her eyes filling with gratitude and then ecstasy.
*
Peyton and Elena kissed inside another endless moment of time, their bodies entwined, their features highlighted by the moonlight streaming through the open doors that led to Peyton’s pool. The night was warm and Peyton had opened both doors before they had entered and now, after having made love, they pulled the mattress out by the pool, in the luxuriant air, their naked bodies glistening in the pale candescence, steam shimmering from the pool, an exotic setting for their endless embrace.
“...the pain of too much tenderness...” Peyton sighed.
“Isn’t that Gibran?”
Peyton nodded. “That’s how it feels when you m
ake love to me...”
They lay in silent repose, each deep within her thoughts. Peyton cleared her throat. “That...that’s never happened before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m always the top.” Peyton’s jaw tightened. Vulnerable, she tried for bravado. “You know, more butch.”
“You’re not butch,” Elena sputtered, “I didn’t even know you were a—”
“No, no...not like that…it’s more about the energy. More male, top, in control. I’ve been that way my whole life.” Peyton stopped, thinking over all the ways in which she had made certain she never gave over anything too precious. “I’m the top, I initiate—no surprises—I stay safe.”
“It’s a whole new lexicon,” Elena said with a grin, shaking her head. “You know I’m clueless about all this.”
Elena traced a finger down the side of Peyton’s face, covered her chest gently with her hand, pressing it against her heart.
“How do you know to touch me like that?” Peyton’s voice was but a whisper.
Elena could see how exposed Peyton felt. “Instinct.” Elena continued to touch her.
“I can’t believe…how much of me I’ve given over...” Peyton felt everything, every caress, every grace, every brush of Elena’s fingers upon her skin, and Elena saw in Peyton’s eyes her willingness to trust.
“Peyton...” Elena kissed the swell of Peyton’s breast tenderly, “I’m kissing you…a woman… touching your breast, loving the smell anarethe smed feel of you as if it’s the only thing that can make me whole. I want so much to please you.”
Peyton’s eyes brimmed with tears.
Elena pulled her close, empowered. “Peyton...I love you.” She embraced her tenderly. “... I’m crazy in love with you...”