by Radclyffe
Willie took a big gulp of the wine and swallowed it down. “Is that what you want to do?” She stared at the blanket and picked at a loose thread near her knee.
“No.” Lori crawled around the food and took Willie’s face in her hands. “I want to go with you, Willie.”
Willie searched her eyes and saw the truth of her declaration. “I told Papa that I don’t want to get married. I want to go to the university and get a degree and then a good job. I’ll buy a house and you can come live with me. They’ll call us old maids, but I don’t care. I just want to be with you. I love you, Lori.”
Lori’s eyes filled. “I love you, too, Willie. Only you.”
Her lips, her tongue, tasted of the wine and Willie drank her in. She gathered Lori in her arms and eased her down until they were lying side by side. She was careful, though. Lori’s tiny, delicate frame always made her feel big and clumsy. But Lori rolled onto her back and drew Willie down on top of her.
“I’ll crush you,” she murmured.
“No, you won’t,” Lori said. “I love the weight of your body on mine. I love your strength.”
Willie kissed her way down Lori’s neck and sucked at her pulse because she’d discovered that it made Lori hum with pleasure. She hummed now and Willie reflexively pressed her tingling crotch against Lori’s hip. She captured Lori’s mouth, pouring all the passion, all the feeling that was welling up in her, into a long kiss as she inched her hand up to cup Lori’s breast. They’d done this before, and Willie anticipated Lori’s whimper when she circled her thumb around the rigid bump of her nipple.
She broke their kiss and stared into Lori’s eyes as she slowly unbuttoned her dress. They hadn’t done this before. They’d only groped and pressed together fully clothed. But Lori didn’t stop her. Instead, she reached for the buttons of Willie’s shirt, too.
Lori’s chest was flushed, but her skin was cool. Willie slipped her hand under the stiff white cotton of Lori’s bra, then closed her eyes and moaned at the supple flesh that filled her palm.
“Oh, Willie.” Lori wiggled beneath her. “Let me up.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She withdrew her hand and sat up abruptly. “I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s okay.” Lori sat up, too. “I just—” She unfastened the last button on Willie’s shirt and dropped her gaze to take her in.
Willie had never needed to wear a bra under the work shirts she always wore. She was glad for that now. She shivered when Lori pushed the shirt back and trailed her fingertips lightly across her collarbone, then downward to touch her small breasts.
“So strong, but so soft,” Lori said, pushing the shirt off Willie’s shoulders. She stopped. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
“I want…I want to feel your skin on mine, Willie. Take this off and unhook my bra for me.”
Willie shucked off her shirt and leaned into Lori, kissing her again as she reached around to work the hooks loose and pull the straps from Lori’s shoulders. Lori lay back and drew Willie down with her. Their moans mingled as their breasts brushed together.
“Willie.” Lori’s hands explored her back, her arms tightening around her.
Willie kissed her again. Their tongues danced sensuously, then desperately.
Lori squirmed. “Willie, God.” Her tone went from breathless to desperate. “I want…I want—”
Willie knew what Lori wanted. “More,” she said, smoothing her fingertips along Lori’s cheek. “I want it, too. Do you trust me to show you?”
Lori trembled. “Yes. Yes, please, before I break into a million pieces from wanting you.”
No one ever came to the pond except them, so Willie didn’t hesitate as she rolled onto her back and unbuckled her belt. She could feel Lori watching as she stripped off her jeans and underpants, and when she rolled to face her again, Lori was wiggling out of her panties, too.
Clothes cast aside, no barriers between them, they both stared. Willie thought she was going to faint at the sight of Lori completely naked, then she remembered to breathe. “You are so beautiful,” she whispered.
“Show me,” Lori said softly.
She bent her head to taste Lori’s lips, then her neck and chest. She flicked her tongue against one pink nipple, and Lori arched upward.
“Harder, Willie.” Her hands were on Willie’s breasts, massaging and tweaking her sensitive nipples. “Harder like this.”
Willie gently bit the nipple in her mouth and cupped Lori’s other breast with her hand, lightly pinching. She smiled at her shy little Lori’s full-throated moan.
She slipped her leg between Lori’s thighs. Lori was slick and hot, and Willie groaned at the pleasure of knowing they were together in their desire. She kept teasing Lori’s breast with her hand, but rose to claim her mouth again. Her hips bucked and her sex slid easily against Lori’s leg as their tongues moved together. Holy Mother, that felt good. Too good. Another stroke, and she’d be beyond holding back.
She skimmed Lori’s soft belly to part her folds, and Lori whimpered as Willie found her swelling flesh. She’d had some practice now with her own body and used that knowledge to find the spot that made Lori wrench away from their kiss and gasp. She was careful to keep the pressure light, but it was difficult. Lori’s thigh pushed harder into Willie’s crotch, making it almost impossible to concentrate as her own need rode her hard, racing against her determination to bring Lori to orgasm first.
Lori sucked in an abrupt breath and her eyes widened. “Oh, God, Willie, oh.” Lori’s body bowed beneath her, and Willie gave in to her own climax.
She didn’t remember rolling onto her back and pulling Lori on top of her, but she was thankful. Her heart surely would have pounded right out of her chest if it wasn’t for Lori’s cheek pressed against it. They panted, perspiration sheening their naked bodies.
Lori shuddered, her body tensing and releasing with the residual of her climax. Her words were a breathy whisper. “I never knew.”
“Yeah. Me neither.” Willie stroked Lori’s back, still marveling at the intimacy of touching her bare skin. She chuckled. “I sort of found out by accident one night after you got me all worked up with your kisses.”
Lori lifted her head to hold her gaze. “I love you, Willie.”
“I love you, Lori, more than I thought I could love anyone. It makes me crazy to think about you being with anyone else.”
“I’ll never love anyone but you.”
Willie hugged her tightly and swore she’d never let Lori go. They’d find a way to be together.
“Lorraine?”
They both jerked up as Lori’s mother called out.
“Where are you?” Her voice came from the edge of the clearing.
“Shit.” Willie looked for their scattered clothes.
“There’s no time.” Lori’s eyes were wide with panic.
“Jump in the pond.”
They both ran to the water and dove in. When they surfaced, Mrs. Caulder was standing next to their blanket.
“Lorraine Caulder, what on earth?”
Lori bobbed in the water. “We were just swimming to cool off, Mama. Is something wrong?”
Mrs. Caulder stared down at their picnic and scattered clothes. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong.” She put her hands on her hips and gave Willie a murderous glare that made her want to duck back under the water. “Your tomboy days of traipsing around the woods and skinny-dipping are over. You are much too old, young lady.”
“But, Mama—”
“No buts, Lorraine. Get up to the house. Now.”
Lori gave Willie a beseeching look.
“Go ahead,” Willie said, her voice low. She was beyond miserable that their perfect afternoon had been shattered, but Lori’s dilemma was what mattered. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Lori swam to the shore and quickly dressed. When she turned back to Willie, Mrs. Caulder swatted her on the butt. “Git. Now. Earl Montgomery has come calling and is waiting in the parlor. You n
eed to get cleaned up before he sees you looking like a wild ragamuffin.”
Willie lifted her hand in a silent wave when Lori glanced back for one last look before disappearing down the path.
Mrs. Caulder lingered, glaring at Willie until she wondered if the woman expected her to get out of the water and dress in front of her.
“Y’all aren’t children anymore, and you need to leave my daughter alone.” She looked down at the blanket, and Willie felt suddenly exposed, as if Lori’s mother could see what they had been doing. Her eyes were hard when she looked up at Willie again. “I don’t want to talk to your parents, but I will if you come around again.”
Willie stood in the water for a long time after Mrs. Caulder left. She was scared, really scared. Could they keep her from seeing Lori? She waded out of the pond and dressed. Lori loved her. They would find a way to be together.
She waited at the pond every day for three long weeks—the worst weeks of her life. She closed her eyes against the hollow ache that slowly choked her as she sat on the dock every day, waiting, wondering, and waiting more.
Desperate, she finally went to Lori’s house, determined to talk to her. They could run away to another town and get jobs. She didn’t have to go to the university. She’d do anything as long as she didn’t lose Lori.
But when she walked into the yard, she could hear the angry voices inside. She knocked, but no one came to the door. She knocked again, and Lori finally appeared. Her eyes were red from crying, and she refused to look at Willie as she told her that she was going to marry Earl Montgomery next month.
Willie hung around until the day of the wedding and stood across the street from the church. When Lori arrived, she got out of the car and looked right at Willie, then walked into the sanctuary. Willie drove to the bus station, bought a ticket to Richmond, and joined the army.
*
She never thought she’d find herself back at this pond, waiting once again for Lori. She squinted in the bright sunlight, searching the tree line again as if she could will her to appear. Every moment without her still seemed like a millennium.
Army life had been good to her, but even sweeter was their reunion and the years they’d finally spent together. The years of waiting had been more than worth it. So there was no doubt that she would wait for Lori again…as long as it took. But then time had no relevance here in this oasis that was theirs.
The water shimmered around her and Willie closed her eyes against the glare. When she opened them, Lori stood on the bank across from her. Her smile was soft. “Somehow, I knew I’d find you here.”
Willie sprang to her feet and dove into the water, swimming across the small pond in strong, sure strokes. Lori waded in to meet her and they were in each other’s arms again. Lori’s kiss was as sweet as she remembered.
Then Lori’s hands were on Willie’s face, smoothing down her shoulders and arms to cup Willie’s hands in her smaller ones and examine them. She felt her own face, then looked up at Willie in wonderment.
“We’re young again.”
“Yes.” Willie held up her hands. “No more arthritis.”
“I never minded. I was too glad to find you after all those years apart.”
“I never expected I would go first. Was it hard after I left?”
“It was dark and confusing. Poor Leah. I don’t know what my granddaughter would have done without your great-niece to love her and help her through it.”
“Tory is stronger with Leah at her side, too.”
Lori nodded. “They’ll be fine.” She smiled. “Did you have to wait long this time, sweetheart? I couldn’t keep track of the days. The dementia stole that from me, but sometimes I thought it was actually a gift because it kept me from knowing how long I was without you.”
“It doesn’t matter how long. I would wait all of eternity for you.”
Lori looked around. “So, this is heaven? No angels or choirs? No judgment of our sins?”
“Are you disappointed?”
“Heavens, no. I’m relieved.”
They laughed together, and Willie stole another kiss.
“Apparently, we must have done something right. Our eternity will be spent in the place where we shared our happiest memory.” She gestured toward her offerings under the gnarled old oak.
Lori’s smile went from sweet to brilliant. “Oh, Willie. In all the years I’ve loved you, I’m glad you never changed.”
Willie winked at Lori. “I brought a blanket and a jar of Papa’s scuppernong wine.”
Martha Miller is a Midwestern writer and a Lambda Literary Award finalist for The Retirement Plan: a Crime Story. She is the author of four other lesbian books and winner of, among several awards, an Illinois Arts Council Artists Fellowship. Her stories, reviews, and articles are widely published. She teaches writing part-time.
This story features characters from The Retirement Plan.
Dilemma
Martha Miller
Homicide Detective Morgan Holiday and mother-of-one Chelsea Brown had been seeing each other exclusively and sleeping together for over six months when Chelsea broached the subject of living together. Although Morgan wanted to live with Chelsea, there were reasons to go slow. First, she was living in her own home, actually the one she grew up in, and she and the bank had a big investment in it. Second, Chelsea had a kid and the kid was part of the deal. Sometimes when Morgan came home after a day of family time, she shut off her cell, had a big dish of ice cream, and went straight to bed—her own bed. Dominick wasn’t a bad kid, as four-year-olds went, but Morgan found she needed some alone time now and then. How could she get that with all of them living under the same roof?
One night, Uncle Sandy was babysitting and Morgan and Chelsea were lying in Chelsea’s bed in the stunning afterglow of sex when Chelsea rolled onto her side and propped her head up with a folded pillow. Inches from Morgan’s ear, she put a finger into her mouth, getting it wet, and made soft circles around Morgan’s nipple, first one and then the other. “If you lived here, we could do this every night.”
“Mmm.” Morgan threw her arm around the woman she loved and drew her into a deep, messy kiss.
Chelsea pulled away. “That’s not an answer.”
“You wanted an answer? I thought…well, never mind.”
“Can we talk about it?”
“Now?”
“If not now, when?” Chelsea said.
Morgan felt the ice beneath her grow thin and considered her response carefully. Finally, she said, “When all my blood is in my head where it belongs. Sometime when we haven’t literally just fucked our brains out.” Untangling herself, Morgan threw her legs over her side of the bed and, with one toe, fished around for her underpants.
Chelsea was silent for a moment. “That’s not fair. We’re always fucking except when Dom is around, and we can’t really discuss it when he’s here.”
Morgan crawled back into bed and knelt over Chelsea, kissing tiny circles on her belly.
Opening her legs, Chelsea gave Morgan’s head a push. “You’re changing the subject.”
Morgan slid two fingers inside Chelsea and touched her clit with her tongue.
The subject was officially changed.
The next time they were alone, Chelsea kept her clothes on. They grilled steaks outside for just the two of them. Morgan basked in the easy intimacy. Chelsea knew just how Morgan liked her steak. Of course, a couple of restaurant cooks knew the same thing.
The late-afternoon sky was going gray as clouds, swollen with the rain that had been promised later that night, moved in. They took the meat and vegetables inside and sat dinner on the kitchen table. Chelsea lit a candle and they dished up the food.
They ate in silence. Morgan had had a tiring day at work—meeting with the county sheriff, briefing higher-ups, dealing with the media, and interviewing witnesses to another drive-by.
“You want some wine?” Chelsea asked.
Morgan shook her head. “I’m fine for now. Maybe lat
er.”
“Can we talk now?”
Morgan sighed. “I’m tired.”
“Is talking so much work? Why do you keep putting me off? I’m starting to think you don’t want to live here, that you’re only in this for the sex.”
Morgan put down her fork and knife. “You know that’s not true. I’m conflicted about this. I’d have to sell my house. I can’t make the payments there and pay my expenses here at the same time. Plus I work for the city, and they’re thinking of making a law that city workers have to live inside the city limits.”
“So you don’t want to sell your house? Why not?”
Morgan shrugged. “Right now the market isn’t great, and this is the place that you and your ex bought together. I’d have a hard time thinking of it as mine.”
“Well, what a surprise—your house and your employer. I thought you’d have some problem with Dom, helping to raise him or something. Coming into a child’s life is a big deal. Sometimes I see the relief in your eyes after an afternoon of doing his stuff.”
“I’m fond of the kid,” Morgan said. “He can be a handful, but he’s not a reason.”
Neither of them mentioned the dogs.
Chelsea’s house was in the country, and people sometimes dumped dogs in the area. She took them in. Most of the time she had over a dozen dogs of different shapes and sizes. She had large wire kennels along the side of a huge garage. When she was home, she let them run in the yard. They were a good-natured pack of mutts—all spayed and neutered, all up on their shots. Chelsea’s ex, Laura, was a veterinarian, and all of this came free of charge. Between them they found homes for many of the strays and, although the rare aggressive dog had to be put down, mostly the dogs lived good lives. Morgan loved the way they came running to greet her when she pulled in the driveway. In spite of the shared dogs, the ex made herself scarce, at least when Morgan was around.
Chelsea held up her hand. “Okay, stop. I understand and I won’t mention it again.”