Suddenly feeling each other’s breasts in each other’s hands, both let out a simultaneous, restrained gasp. But as soon as the other realized what the other was doing (after allowing for a tiny bit of reconnaissance fondling), both put up stop signs.
‘Ooooh, my. Look what a few sips of fine wine gets one into!’ marveled Saskia.
‘Or two into.’
‘It’s so funny,’ laughed Saskia.
‘I just happened to slide into that position. Pay no attention!’ Justy replied, with a smile that was more easygoing than it would have been a few seconds before.
‘That’s why they call them ‘fine wines’.’
Saskia rose smoothly, and when she adjusted her happi coat, Justy, who looked after her from below, did the same, then stood up.
‘Hungry, Justy? I am!’
Justy was silent, and serious.
‘Come! Come to table. You haven’t set it yet. Could you?’
‘I will,’ she answered.
As if the episode was forgotten, they both chatted about normal things while dining. Past shopping and house notes, Saskia gave a bit of background about her new script, and Justy filled her in on a bit of agency scuttlebutt, but gave more attention to her charitable activities, so naturally laudable.
‘I so admire what you’re doing, Justy, here, in the midst of all this prosperity, which can be so hypocritical.’
‘I know you’re not just talking, Saskia. Not like some of them. The poseurs, I call them. And I would add that, there is much prosperity here in Hollywood, but I’m not sure how much happiness there is.’
‘Oh, I know. I have been in Karachi slums where people have more to live for than a few types I know.’
‘And I have found the same in Equatoria.’
‘The substance of the spirit!’
‘Those are almost the same words that Thesiger said!’
‘I would believe it. But there are some happy souls hereabouts, aren’t there?’
Justy wasn’t sure what to say.
‘Oh, come on, Justy. Aren’t you happy right now? I am. Oh, I am!’
Justy smiled coyly, but wouldn’t go further.
Saskia couldn’t resist a little lecture. ‘It’s OK to be happy, albeit on a temporary basis, even though there are less than happy things going on elsewhere. We must hold up our half, if we are to be of any worth in the least. After all, we both have… happi coats on, don’t we?’
Justy giggled. But she wouldn’t be truly happy until… She got up and padded around the table until she stood next to Saskia. Saskia rose out of her chair. They were wordless. Justy drew near and, pausing tastefully, then boldly but kindly planted her full lips onto Saskia’s, so that doubts were resolved and stop signs were discarded.
Then drawing back, she murmured, ‘Now, now I am happy.’
Saskia regarded her with sympathy, empathy, and then, almost out of the blue, lovingly.
‘Oh, Justy, Justy, sweet one. Could you… do that again?’
She did, and Saskia knew that there was something imminent in play, progressing toward a new room.
In fact, it was one of the guest bedrooms to which they headed, upstairs, with a view over the west, with a late sunset of Rothko-bars about to fade. A lyrical scene indeed, through a floor-to-ceiling window that entered out onto a balcony, framed by burgundy drapes with old ossuary vessels punctuating the proscenium overhead.
Not in search of any show but their own, the two women knew full well what they were getting into. No need for boudoir privacy, or any PR premise to obfuscate their intentions. Each was interested in the other’s reality, inherently new, introduced with a rapidity that had come without urgency or stress. What’s more, the very convenience of this intimate occasion was not only pleasant, but pleasantly sensible. Perfectly reasonable possibilities stood up in front of them, so there was no requirement to dally in straight-arrow, outdated etiquette that lacked meaning.
Neither of them uttered, or even thought of anything like: ‘We’re adults, nicely matured, free and responsible, thoughtful and accomplished, aware of the world and our place in it. We are thinking, perceptive people, who just happen to…’, but that’s how they conducted themselves.
As the dusk colors flowed into the room with ever-fainter intensity, the two relaxed in chairs at opposing corners, favorably situated, but keen to take further steps.
At length, Justy offered a statement of sorts.
‘If you feel uncomfortable…’
‘Funny, I think I should be saying that to you.’
‘Why?’ she chuckled, ‘I’m hosting here…’
‘Because, oh, I don’t wish to hurt your feelings but… We’re talking too much, aren’t we?’
‘Maybe. And so formally! I’m enjoying the glow. I don’t want it to fade.’
‘Nor do I!’
‘Then come here.’
Saskia willingly came to her caller, and sat demurely on her lap.
‘That’s nice,’ said Justy, placing her hand on the thigh just planted.
Then it was found that the kissing could just happen with unbridled liberation. All stops were out.
In bed, bathed in the rusty light, two women made love, and the umbrageous ceiling above had no objection, because the scene was so justified.
If Justy did not know every right move, no matter. Human life imitates nature when it is unencumbered by decorum and social chains. Freedom flies high in the air, or should be able to fly. Becoming airborne is not so hard as people might think. In this bed, the inhabitants were in an atmosphere generated by their drive. When dams burst, there can be a beauty, because it is a moment when the bars of resistance are raised, and the flow will be allowed to go. Past that, there is often violence and death.
Here though, all comparisons ended. Here, in this bed, the dam had burst, but there was only wonder that flowed into the floodplain of discovery. A far green land awaited that discovery.
Instinct was in play, too, and the instinct was to satisfy. If one was a novice, talent was the best playbook, for there really wasn’t too much to mess up if natural sincerity kicked in. Justy was relying on just that, plus a life of reading and imagining and reasoning, as well as several mature careers in dealing with adversity, people, places, and success.
As hostess, one who made it a priority to ensure hospitality on all levels, it really wasn’t too much to expect that her lover in bed plainly met her measure of satisfaction. After all, as an experienced woman in levels high and low (mostly high), several relationships, one high-powered marriage, child-bearing, an intimate association with progressive literature, and a multitude of diverse persons, possibilities and their alternatives, Justy was well-equipped to exercise sexual creativity in capturing a moment of magic for her new love. In fact, while she was non-dinner dining in the newly-won domain of Saskia’s intimacy, she had a really neat idea. It came across as part of the heightened pleasure she felt as her lover tightened and bucked upward, in preparation for the gathering masterstroke that was coalescing at a crossroads of sensual joy.
It was coming, that was for sure. Therefore, Justy had to be judicious in her timing. She might have thirty-five or seventy-five seconds to make her move, but time was running out. Having been around pictures because of her former Sonny connection, and having hung with him on several occasions in post-recording and film scoring sessions, she knew all about timing. Or, at least she respected its importance. She remembered fondly when Alfred Newman let her stand up on the podium and wear his earphones, with their clicks tracking along, and how they linked with the marked-up work print that flashed and repeated on the screen, and even then, she couldn’t help but put an orgasmic stopwatch to the process, if only because it seemed to involve the same kind of concentration and dedication, in order to reach the desired goal.
Now that she was independently branching out into new, even maverick territory, it was at this moment up to her to pull this thing off with as much finesse as she could muster. Her tongue c
ould talk as much as it could caress, and it was time to come out with a verbal enhancement. Instead of some worshipful dialogue though, she broke into a newsflash.
‘Saskia! Love-girl! Know this: your new script, ‘The Lamp at Banbury Cross’, has been green-lighted by the studio! Filming begins in due course!’
And, tenths of seconds after she finished enunciating the last syllables, the dutiful tongue dove back down where it was destined to be, to finish the great task undertaken by her own drive and desire and lust and love, with an end-result of heightening the one she loved’s own sense of well-being.
It worked. Saskia’s climax was foundation-quaking. A precedent, in fact. Full of sound and fury and boundless joy. All pent-up anticipation was broken into little pieces, and now that the truth was out about her picture, the associate truth of her newfound lover could also tag along, in the background for the moment, but agile enough to move around to the front row of attention.
The sweaty white British girl was trembling, and in thrall to her Rwandan lover. The glisten-enhanced smile of Justy said it all: that she had succeeded in her wild boldness of the day, and that the risk had not only been worth it, but decisively key in disclosing embers of truth between the two of them.
Blue twilight now supported them in their tousled bed, and the world may have been out there somewhere in all its obviousness. But right now, the lovers had all they needed in achieving the complete balance required in realizing what sort of ‘best’ that life could give. It was a milestone for both.
Secure in the gloaming, intimate whispering could now ensue.
‘Princess of lovers!’ Saskia enthused, ‘I knew when I settled in with you, jewels would be found!’
‘Sacred! Jewels! I have found them, as well.’
‘You have certainly found mine!’
Justy knew now she could back off from the accelerated language.
‘Ohh, what a fuck!’
‘Yeah, baby! Like no other!’
‘But you know, girl, what I have to say?’
‘Haven’t you said it all?’
‘No, not the truth.’
‘Truth! If that wasn’t truth, I don’t know what could be! You slammed me with more truth than I’ve seen – in a dictionary!’
Justy purred. ‘Growl, girl! You realize, you’re the first? My first girl-love? First ever?’
Saskia almost started bawling.
‘Ohhh, you precious thing! Your soul spoke!’
‘I wish I could bow low enough to you, girl!’
‘Low, high, what does it matter? I love your love!’
‘So do I!’
‘But I’ve something to tell you, too.’ Saskia’s whisper almost grew instructional. ‘As you are the beginner, I am the continuer. I am no stranger to women’s love, for I have lived a ménage for some time.’
‘Oh. How weird… I mean, how wonderful! I thought you might be shocked. I thought you might turn me away.’
‘I know you did. I know that’s what you might have thought… But listen, Justy. Right now, listen, in the silence of the dusk! I have been in places like this before, but never with such depth, such feeling. It’s as if I have never been alive before. I know that sounds false, but in my own way, you are my first, as well. Never have I felt such love. Right here, right now. I’m just overwhelmed. And happy to be so.’
‘It’s more than – I guess I feel overwhelmed, too. But it’s good.’
‘It’s so good, Justy, so good!’
Settled into a kiss-and-nuzzling session, Justy finally finished pulling her happi off.
‘It isn’t the wine, you know. Not the second time.’
‘The second time?’
‘Before dinner: the first time’, Justy explained. ‘After dinner: the second time. The first time, I wasn’t so sure. The second time, I’m sure.’
‘About?’
‘About you. About us.’
‘There wasn’t anything to doubt,’ Saskia giggled. ‘It’s just one of those instant things, I guess!’
‘Well, you could have thrown me out of the house.’
‘This isn’t my house!’ Saskia laughed.
‘Nor mine. It’s Butterbugs’.’
Saskia stroked the underside of Justy’s forearm.
‘You think he’d mind? About us?’
‘I don’t. I really don’t. We haven’t been together long at all, like, a few hours! But we’ve really bonded. And I know his mind is expansive. It’s not conventional. I have been constantly amazed. Why do you think we’re living together? And you? Shall I tell you what he thinks of you? He loves us both. Both of us love him. Besides, he told us to have fun this weekend. Aren’t we?’
‘Mmm. Come here. Give us a kiss. A long one, this time.’
It was long indeed. And for its duration, much research was done. Safety was established, sincerity was analyzed, and guarantees were tested. All the right chemistry seemed to produce promising results.
Rising from the revelatory connecting, Justy just had to say:
‘Girl, I don’t know how to say this, but, I’ve found out something about myself I never knew.’
‘That you’re more than just straight?’ Saskia instantly felt stupid. Such a banal thing to say to such an accomplished person. ‘Sorry love, I didn’t mean –’
‘That’s OK, that’s OK. No no, I wasn’t thinking in those terms, girl, and I don’t blame you for saying it. After all, you’re my first! No, I was thinking, I never realized there were fulfillments like I’ve felt today. I mean, you’re a goal reached, that I never knew I was seeking. You feel it too?’
‘Dear Justy. I do. And you know why I know? I seek, also. And I don’t always know what it is I seek, even though I proclaim that some progress occurs. As a writer, I must seek, question, search, until I find. I’m used to disappointment. Until now!’
‘I’m happy to hear it. Well, anyway. That’s out of the way. I had to tell you. I don’t want to gush too much.’
‘Oh, go ahead!’
‘Mmmm…!’
‘A crush gush!’
‘Oh, it’s more than a crush!’
‘It better be!’
They enjoyed cool and low laughter while Justy poured purty thimbles of Xtaché liqueur from an esoteric sapphire-colored can.
‘Tell me, Saskia (Saskia! I love your name! It’s so perfect!)… Tell me, of your home life.’
‘My previous ménage? Oh, I think it’s about run its course. It was getting a bit familial. Too familial. I was enacting too much of a ‘daughter’ role!’
Justy chuckled.
‘Besides, my couple are giddy with their new roles as successful producers. The thrill is gone. For all of us. It’s all right, really.’
‘But you’re alone now, aren’t you?’
‘Justy, pretty charity girl! I like how you pry! I will tell you everything. I’m a free cat now. First though, can you please kiss my pussy? I want to share myself with you. It’s share and share alike!’
Two weeks later, Justy and Saskia found themselves in the same position, in the same bed, in the same room. Butterbugs had similar weekend commitments.
The symmetricalness of their femme-sur-femme love was beautiful and diverse. Two sets of lips each, made for delectable, clockwork rotation. Two hands, two legs each. Two of most things, actually. Also, a further equation: one of each made two.
They settled into a favorite pose, a cat’s cradle that allowed for holding hands while languorously and leisurely pumping on a double dildo. The soft focus of their bedroom eyes could thus be lavished on mutual admiration gazes.
Their color combination made for a harlequin’s tunic: Saskia, willowy and moonlight-pale; Justy, supple and seasoned with a fine deep teak finish. There were naturally plenty of curves in significant places on both, but maturity was smiling upon them. Equality was a blessing also, in breast size, hips, thighs and asses. That was a real comfort. Any chance of self-love was cancelled out in favor of the other. Visually, each was a
polarized version of the other, as a male might observe, but an enhancement of the psyche was taken on by each, creating a third personality of unity, as their native intelligence was wont to select as fact.
Their tableaux were characterized by extremely fine taste. Benouville might’ve painted them! Brassaï should’ve gotten a secret snap, in high-contrast B&W!
The two gambolers could coat their similarly-dimensioned lips with tinted gloss and hang independently at the same party with the best of them, and nobody’d ever know. Not that they cared.
Then, as time became more timeless, business came up.
Justy moved, then shook off her petite mort.
‘Shall we make him a proposition?’ she asked after an appropriate sigh.
‘I’d like to, if you would. If you’d like to, as well.’
‘Very well, I’ll get the ball rolling, so you can always say it was me. Here goes. Will you, Saskia dear, move in with us?’
‘And just so you can say I had the right of first refusal, I answer you by saying: I will!’
A smile was all Justy could give in reply, for there was bliss all around.
They dozed for a time.
‘One thing, Justy. I wonder, why are you doing this? Past our discovery of each other, that is.’
In the kitchen, Saskia put some plates away. She knew where everything belonged now.
‘Good question. I think that, well, I know that the object of our grouped love is on the ascendant. We both know it. I’m thinking that, right now, I want someone who’s there.’
‘That’s not asking for too much,’ Saskia smiled. ‘As, uh, the person in the middle – age-wise if nothing else –’
‘I’ll remind you! We each represent three decades: two, three and four! Or is it three, four and five?’
‘That’s one of the sexiest things you’ve said to me! I love it!’
Forward to Glory Page 54