by Heidi Lowe
When the older folks were talking, I busied myself looking discreetly around the living room, marveling at Ava's quirky style. The drapes, the rug, the paintings all seemed to be African in design – at a guess, West African. Little wooden safari animals took pride of place along the mantelpiece. She sure had a thing for Africa.
But it was hard to focus on the furnishings when two horny men were firing off just about every lame line in the flirting manual, and doing so in the sleaziest, most unsubtle manner.
"Ava, no one would drive past you if you were hitchhiking."
And, "Did you say you're a teacher? Those kids are so lucky to have you as a teacher. I would never miss a day of school."
And worse still, "I liked the book. It was a love story. A lot of men my age don't like to show their sensitive side, but this really touched me. You know what I mean, Ava?"
I almost threw up in my mouth at that last line! Couldn't they hear themselves?
The night, thankfully, came to an end just before nine. The older folks said their goodbyes and promptly left.
"It's still so early, Ava. What are you doing now? Did you want to come out with us?" one of the boys said. Besides me they were the last to leave. They were lingering, and it was so blatant.
"Jesus," I mumbled to myself. It came out louder than intended, and Ava looked at me, somewhat amused.
"Thanks, guys, but I'm a little tired. Got a lot to do tomorrow, you know. Maybe some other time."
Why couldn't she just tell them she wasn't interested, that she was gay? Why did she always have to be so damn polite?
I collected my things up just as they did, and we all made our way to the door. So much for our alone time.
"Danielle, you said you'd take a look at my computer for me, remember?" she said quickly, once we were all in the hallway.
"Did I?" I frowned. I couldn't remember saying anything of the sort, and didn't think I ever would, because computers hated me.
"Yes, remember? That thing wouldn't start and you said you could fix it?"
"We can take a look at it for you," one of the boys jumped in, any excuse to stick around. I doubt they knew any more about computers than I did.
"That's okay, Danielle said she would do it. See you guys in a few weeks." She opened the door and all but shoved them out, smiling the whole time.
The penny, as they say, finally fell.
She turned to me, smiling, shaking her head. "Well, you didn't make that easy for me."
I laughed, feeling foolish. "God, I'm so sorry. Stupid. I heard computers and it completely threw me. I thought you'd gone senile."
She chuckled as we returned to the living room. "I had to think of something. They do this every week."
"How do you put up with it?"
She shrugged. "Guys have been doing that from the moment I hit puberty and grew breasts! I've learned to ignore it mostly."
She had the patience of a saint. Even I wanted to punch them. But that might have had something to do with my wholly unreasonable jealousy, the type that had been rearing its ugly head since Ava walked into my life. It wasn't an emotion I had a right to when it came to her, particularly as I could no longer muster any when it came to my own husband.
"So just to be clear, you don't have a computer you need me to take a look at?"
"No computer. Just a bottle of Burgundy we our name on it."
She went to fetch the bottle and some clean glasses while I made myself comfortable on her couch. No more annoying hangers-on, no more books, just the two of us. Alone. We'd been alone several times, but not like this. Always in public. Never unrestricted.
We chatted for an hour while we enjoyed the bottle I'd brought. It never took much to get me tipsy; and together with the natural high I was already on just being alone with her, I had reached saturation point halfway through my second glass.
We were sitting beside each other, and had been the whole time, but only now, with the alcohol running through my veins, and my senses amplified, did it really start to affect me.
"This goddamn tag has been bothering me all night. It's a new top."
"I hate when that happens. I have a pair of scissors in a drawer somewhere if you want to cut it out?"
She got up to fetch them, disappeared from the room. Screw the blouse! I thought, unbuttoning it. If I accidentally cut it, too bad. I didn't care anymore. My back was sore.
When she walked back into the room, scissors in hand, I was already shirtless. Normally I wouldn't have even considered removing my shirt like that in someone's living room. I guess I was more tipsy than I'd first thought. Not to the point that I didn't know what I was doing, simply enough to allay my inhibitions. My insecurities about my body had also been alleviated.
She handed me the scissors, almost expressionless. She didn't sit back down beside me, just stood on the other side of the room by the window, watching me cut the tag out of my shirt.
"It's pretty hot in here. Maybe I'll keep my blouse off," I said. It was a joke, and in a way my attempt at flirting. I wanted to see how she would respond, because her need to be so far away from me seemed odd.
"If you like. It's up to you." Now she was doing her best not to look at me. Something was definitely up. Did she want me to leave?
"This is my first trip to your place and I end up topless. If this is how all book clubs end, I'm sad I missed them all those years," I continued.
She didn't laugh, only offered me a little smile that faded almost as soon as it came. It was as though she was now bored with me and couldn't bear to hear my voice, or even look at me. Wow, was I really that grotesque?
"Is everything all right?" I asked, putting my blouse back on. The sight of me was obviously making her uncomfortable.
"Of course. Why do you ask?"
"Because you've gone really quiet."
"I'm just thinking, that's all."
"About what?"
She shrugged. "Stuff."
"What sort of stuff?"
"I don't know, Dani. Just stuff." She seemed agitated now. And that set me off.
"You're not being very hospitable right now, I hope you know that," I said, furiously doing up my buttons.
"What?" She looked at me, perplexed.
"You heard me. If you want me to go, you should just say so, all right."
"Why would you think I want you to leave?"
"Because of your body language. Maybe you would prefer those two boys as company instead of me." I didn't know what had come over me, or where those words had originated from. I was now too annoyed to care that I may have crossed a line.
And I was on a roll. "Why did you bother going through that whole charade of getting me to stay if you were going to ignore me?" I wasn't letting her get a word in edgeways.
I leaped up from my seat. "I think it's best I go now. I don't want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have."
She called my name but I ignored her on my way to the door. But fury still flowed through my veins and bones, and before I knew it I'd turned back into the living room.
"No, I have a few things I need to get off my chest first. And then I'll leave." I slammed my purse down on the couch. She stared at me as though I was a madwoman and she didn't know how I'd gotten into her house.
"It's not fair what you're doing, you know. Spending all this time with me, strutting around all perfect and beautiful, and sexy. So damn sexy!"
She cleared her throat, and I thought I saw the makings of a smile teasing her lips.
"And every moment that we're together I'm battling the urge to kiss you, or touch you, and it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do, keeping my hands off you when you're sitting right there."
I took a breath, and she carried on watching, silently. Yep, it was definitely a little smile, more visible now.
I continued, "And I have to come to terms with the fact that now that you've gotten to know me, you're no longer attracted to me... And what the hell is so funny?" I demanded, upon hear
ing her laugh.
"I'm sorry. Are you done?"
I couldn't believe I'd just poured my heart out and her response was to laugh at me.
"You're something, you know that, Dani? I think we'll have to keep you away from the wine in future. It makes you delusional."
"I'm not delusional," I said defiantly.
"Oh, but you are. You think that I'm not attracted to you. I'd say that's as delusional as it gets. I've done everything I could these past few weeks to spend as much time as possible with you. I call you half an hour after I've just seen you. Heck, I wanted you to come with me to Bolivia, and you still think I'm not interested in you."
She walked toward me slowly. "See, completely and utterly delusional." She brushed some strands of hair out of my face, her eyes soft, her smile tender.
I swallowed. "But what about before? You couldn't even look at me. I was sitting on your couch half-naked."
"Oh sweetie, that wasn't because I didn't want to look at you, it's because I did want to. Believe me, I know quite a bit about having difficulty keeping my hands to myself when I'm around you. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
Uncomfortable? Wasn't she aware that every moment spent in her company, as her "friend", was the real agony? I'd never experienced anything like it. It was as though my body had been pining for her, crying out for her. To convey that to her would have been impossible without sounding like some sort of pervert.
I shivered slightly from her touch. I stared into those sapphire-like eyes, losing myself in them. She looked uncertain. Whatever she saw in me made her hesitant.
"I want you to know something," I said, taking the hand that she'd used to brush my hair away. "I didn't come here for the books." I pressed my lips to the back of her hand. Without the alcohol in my system I probably wouldn't have made a move like that. It had always seemed so cheesy when others did it. But she smiled.
"I didn't set out to fall for a married woman. I don't want to break up a happy home."
"I haven't been happy in years. Truly happy, maybe never." Who knew whether or not that was true? But in that moment, the only happiness I could remember was being with her. I couldn't think of one good thing, beside Chester, that had ever come out of my marriage (and even he had been conceived before we married).
We were still holding hands, but she gripped tighter, and the next thing I knew I was being led out of the living room. I followed silently, my heartbeat speeding up.
We climbed the stairs, neither of us speaking. Words were unnecessary now; this short journey upstairs said everything.
Her bedroom was decorated the way I'd imagined it: light, airy colors, all the furniture, including the bed, foreign. African was my guess. I made a note to ask her about the African thing when this was over.
It was a huge, sturdy-looking bed made of finely carved mahogany. Upon seeing it, I started to panic.
Holy shit, this was really happening! In a moment she would expect me to perform, to do things I'd never even considered before I'd met her.
All the confidence I'd started out with had deserted me now, and I stood in the middle of the room feeling like a lamb to the slaughter. There were two conflicting positions battling inside me. The first – fear of the new experience. And the second – exhilaration at finally doing something my body had been craving for months.
When she leaned forward and kissed me, however, I immediately felt more at ease. It was a simple kiss that reassured me.
I gave as good as I got, letting my tongue loose in her mouth. Before long the kisses ceased being polite, and we attacked each other with so much force, so much beastly passion, that we fell onto the bed.
Perfect timing, because soon kisses simply weren't enough. I had no idea what I was doing, what was expected of me, but none of that mattered. Whatever my role was, I wanted to get into it pronto.
As such, I was the first to reach for her clothes, pulling at them while she was on top of me and we were still lip-locked. I kept thinking that any minute now she would stop me, because something this wonderful, with someone so amazing, couldn't possibly happen to me. But she didn't.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" she asked, once she came up for air, having detached her lips from mine.
I nodded and pulled her into another kiss, using it as an opportunity to unbutton her top.
She laughed as we kissed, but it faded shortly after when passion took over. And when we separated again, I was able to relieve her of her top altogether.
I ran my hands along her smooth body. Across her midriff, over her breasts, which were tucked away in a fancy, pale green bra. I touched her while she watched me, my first time doing something like this – admiring and desiring another woman's body.
Beth's words came to mind then, as I caressed Ava's bosom. And a smile came to my lips.
Beth, I can confirm, and with pleasure, that they are one hundred percent the real deal. And I'm going to enjoy every mouthful!
She did the honors, reaching back and undoing her bra slowly. It was like waiting for my lottery numbers to be called!
I took in a deep breath, now faced with the two mounds. They were so perfect I was almost afraid to touch them. Almost, but not quite. My mouth watered.
I ran my hands over them again, and goosebumps spread across my skin when I felt her nipples harden against my palms.
I sat up, pulling her close and into a kiss, her nipples pressing against my chest. But as nice as that felt, there was only one place I wanted them.
I ripped my mouth away from hers, and trailed kisses along her jaw, then along her neck, taking my time, sucking and licking every part of her flesh, not wanting to leave any untouched.
She breathed gently, letting out the tiniest moans each time my lips pressed against her.
And then I arrived at her mounds, kissing around one before taking it into my mouth and suckling on her teat. Now her moans were far more audible. I sucked hungrily before moving onto the next breast. I was an unstoppable machine, switching back and forth, hungrier and hungrier for the sensation against my tongue. Hungrier still for her breathless moans. These alone could have made me climax, I thought.
I wanted to go on forever, and couldn't believe how naturally something like this had come to me. It felt as though I'd been doing this sort of thing for decades, as though women were the only lovers I'd ever known.
But I felt her pulling away. At first I thought that through my enthusiasm I'd hurt her. But she kissed me, and started undoing my blouse. She wanted us to move on. It was my turn now.
Once my blouse and bra were off, she pounced on my loose breasts, skipping the build up. She abused my mounds with her mouth – her lips and tongue worked together to send me into a delirious state. My breasts had never been handled this way before, and I couldn't get enough of it.
"Oh, that's beautiful," I whined, my eyes shut tight.
"You're beautiful," she whispered while she suckled.
When she was done, she kissed her way back up and found my lips again, her blonde tresses falling over my face and curtaining us.
"Are you still with me?" she asked, stroking my face.
"Of course." Despite the lingering fear of the unknown, and of my inexperience, there was no place I would have rather been. Nothing else I wanted to do. And no one else I wanted to be with but her.
"Good," she whispered, kissed me again before descending. It was her way of preparing me for what would come next, I realized that later. Because foreplay was one thing, but she had more in store for me.
I trembled when she started working my jeans off, and trembled even more when she slipped her fingers into my panties.
"It's all right, sweetie," she said softly, our lips reuniting again. The kiss was a way to distract me while she penetrated me. I loved the feel of her nipples rubbing on my chest, of her stomach on mine, while her finger swam through my soaking canal.
She sank a couple of fingers inside me, and watched me unblinkingly as they ma
de their passage. She wanted to see the effects of her move. My eyelids fluttered, the feel of her inside and out, at the same time, incredible.
I moaned against her lips as she brushed them across mine.
"Do you like how I feel inside you?" she breathed, sex in her voice.
"Yes," I croaked, nodding. I kept nodding as she glided in and out of me. "Yes."
"And what about if I touch you here, would you like that too?" She already had, on my nub, which the penetration had made sensitive to the touch.
She was barely kissing me, teasing me with the promise of a kiss. Likewise down below, her fingers stroking only lightly, but just enough to get me writhing.
I couldn't answer with words, just a moan of consent. I felt so powerless beneath her, even though we'd started out as equals.
Then she kissed me, and at the same time commenced her strumming on my swollen bean.
I wanted to focus on kissing her, but I was too busy moaning and wailing.
"Oh, Ava, Ava." Over and over. Her name was perfect for calling out during sex. It just rolled off the tongue. I also loved screaming it. It made me proud to do so, proud to be the one privileged enough to be with her. If the dads at the school could have seen me... If Dominic could have seen me.
"I've wanted to do this to you since I walked into the classroom that first evening," she said. "I thought about this more times than I would like to admit."
"Don't stop," I said in response. She'd been going for several glorious minutes. Her fingers must have been tired, given the force and speed at which she moved. But I couldn't bear the thought of her depriving me of this wonderful sensation. Selfish, I know, but it had been a long time since I'd had sex, and even longer since I'd enjoyed it, and I didn't want this to end.
She carried on for several more minutes, per my request. Eventually she did stop. I hadn't reached my peak, and she'd built me up so much that I had real fear she was too tired to finish.
I realized I was mistaken when she started taking her pants off. Within a few seconds she was buck naked, and her attention went right back to me, back to my remaining piece of clothing: my panties, which she dragged off frantically.