Blown Away

by K'Anne Meinel

  “You just made that up,” she laughed, as she put them back down on the coffee table and slouched against his couch, forgetting the laundry.

  “Yes, but if you weren’t so smart yourself you would have bought it,” he laughed, proving he had indeed just made it up.

  She shook her head with a smile.

  “So you enjoyed it then?” he asked, referring to their earlier conversation.

  She nodded. “I thought I would be too scared to go down on her, but the scents, her reactions really excited me.” She looked down at the other sock she was holding, another missile to fire at him if necessary.

  “Then what happened?” he asked, knowing that he genuinely cared for this petite and shy redhead. She had only opened to him bit by bit and he had to piece her past together slowly. She was so careful about who she let in, he had thought Lila was a good distraction for her, it had taken so long for her to get intimate with this girl after dating a few other lesbians.

  “Nothing, I went down on her, I made her cum, twice,” she smiled triumphantly, as though she had accomplished a real feat. “I held her as she was in the throes, it was wonderful,” she reminisced. “I really enjoyed what I had done to her.”

  “What about you?” he asked astutely.

  “What about me?” she responded stupidly, as she glanced away hoping he would drop the subject.

  “Did you cum?” he raised an eyebrow at the question.

  She shook her head.

  “So it wasn’t that great for you then,” he thought he knew what the problem was now.

  “No, you don’t understand,” she answered looking back up at him. “I made her cum, it was wonderful and great!” she enthused.

  “But you didn’t cum,” he pointed out.

  “I didn’t even take off my clothes,” she admitted.

  “You didn’t take off your clothes?” he nearly scoffed.

  She shrugged as though it wasn’t any big deal. “It’s okay, I didn’t need to.”

  “Maybe that’s why she thinks you have a fear of intimacy, you think?”

  “Just because I didn’t want to get naked does not mean I have a fear of intimacy,” she objected.

  “Why didn’t you get naked with her? You know, skin against skin feels pretty damn good,” he pointed out.

  She shrugged again. “I just, didn’t want to, you know?”

  “Do you have some horrible disfigurement that you didn’t want her to see?” he asked, and then suddenly wondered how much abuse she had suffered at the hands of her father. Had he more than mentally abused her as she ascertained with an occasional slap. He really wished the guy was alive so he could beat the shit outta him for her.

  “No,” she shook her head.

  “Do you have a third nipple?” he asked with a grin to lighten the mood.

  “A third what?” she looked up startled.

  “A third nipple,” he repeated. “You know, another nipple in the form of a mole or something that you don’t want the ladies to see?”

  “No, I don’t have a third nipple,” she insisted almost angrily.

  “C’mon, let Uncle Ryan see,” he offered. “I’ll determine if this third nipple of yours is an eye-sore,” he told her seriously.

  “You want me to take off my top so you can see if I have a third nipple?” she asked incredulously.

  “Yes, if you would, please?” he asked, trying to maintain a straight face.

  “You know, for someone who purports to be gay, you are a letch,” she told him, and threw the last sock which he caught easily.

  “Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean that I cannot appreciate the female body. Maybe I’m bi-sexual and really am after your luscious self,” he said in the same serious vein.

  “Luscious?” she asked, with a slight sneer.

  “Look at you,” he said, really seriously now. “In the last couple of years you have actually grown.” He glanced meaningfully at her bust. “You’re a hottie now,” he told her.

  “Bullshit,” she replied succinctly.

  “No, really. I’m not kidding. If you weren’t a lesbian and I weren’t a possible bi-sexual…” She raised an eyebrow at his wording. “Okay, okay, if I weren’t gay. Then we would have some serious horizontal mambo to discuss.”

  “Mambo?” she grinned at his phrasing.

  “Well, I thought the word was apt, after all, it is like a dance when you are in the throes,” he continued.

  Remembering how Lila’s body had twitched, she had to agree it was like a dance. She herself hadn’t experienced it, but she had enjoyed watching Lila, she had enjoyed what she had caused. Lila’s anger out of not being allowed to return the favor though had led to their breakup.

  “What is the worst that could happen if you get intimate?” he asked, proving his lightening swift brain could run on several tracks at the same time.

  “I’da know,” she shrugged, not willing to really discuss it anymore.

  “Who knows what good could come of it eh?” he pointed out.

  She shrugged again feeling uncomfortable, but knowing he had come to the crux of the matter.

  “Have you ever given yourself an orgasm?” he asked astutely.

  She glanced up at him and nearly started to squirm. She slowly shook her head. “Then giving her an orgasm must have been enlightening,” he nodded at his own analysis of her situation.

  She smiled remembering how she had caused those sensations in Lila, how wet it had made her. She had to go change not only her own panties, but her jeans because she had leaked through. The odor had been intoxicating to her senses. She could feel herself becoming aroused again at the memories.

  “Did you, at least, get aroused, if you didn’t come?” he asked hesitantly.

  “Oh yes,” she smiled again over what she had just remembered.

  “Well, that’s progress,” he told her to let her off the hook. Then he added, “Next girlfriend you should let her touch you there,” he glanced at her crotch to emphasize what he was saying.

  “Yeah, well,” she shrugged letting the conversation go.

  * * * * *

  “Oh wow, you know how to play this?” he asked surprised. Ellen was always avoiding his video games and comics.

  “It’s one of the few that I know how to play,” she said embarrassed at being caught playing a Nintendo game.

  He watched for a moment and saw she really had some hidden skills. “How’d you know about those hidden mushrooms,” he asked as he sat down on the arm of her chair and watched amazed.

  “You aren’t the only one with mad thumbs,” she indicated as she quickly used the controller to her advantage.

  “What else you got here?” he asked her after her man on the screen got a fire ball in the face, bounced up, and the familiar music came on that told the player they lost; da da da da da dum. “You’ve got centipede?” he asked incredulous and impressed as he went through her cassettes. “Where’d you find that?”

  “I have my sources,” she hedged, blushing at being caught playing a video game after the hassling she gave him at the arcade.

  “So, I bet you really know how to play Space Invaders?” he asked knowingly.

  “No, that one isn’t one of my favorites,” she eyed him touching her centipede game. “Don’t wreck that or I may have to kill you.”

  “Aha, I bet you are a closet Pac-man player,” he scoffed.

  “Nuh uh, that’s MS. Pac-man to you,” she objected as they bickered over the relative merits of video games.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LEARNING CURVE

  Her next girlfriend wasn’t as patient as the last few, she took where the others had asked, had waited, had been disappointed. Ellen wasn’t raped, she was ready to take it to the next step, but Marsh, short for Marsha, wasn’t willing to wait, to ease into the experience, and took what she wanted from Ellen and her body. It was a frightening and enlightening experience.

  “I don’t want…” she began trying to resist but Marsha w
as stronger, bigger, and more determined.

  “Sure you do,” she insisted and continued on, ignoring Ellen’s protests.

  “I don’t think I want to see you again,” Ellen told her coldly much later.

  “Aw come on, I know you liked it,” Marsh returned hotly.

  “How do you know I liked it?” Ellen really wondered at that statement.

  “You got wet didn’t you? You moved when I fucked you didn’t you?”

  Ellen flinched at the crudity of the language and then looked at the soft-butch woman, wondering what she had ever seen in her. “You think because you got me wet, hell, I heard you spit on your fingers,” she reminded her. “That I was aroused? That I liked it?”

  “Some women just need a little help,” she insisted, feeling a little insulted.

  Ellen looked at the woman and backed away shaking her head. She’d had enough and needed to think about the series of events that led up to this awful sexual encounter.

  Later, much later, she realized that while she had been attracted to the soft-butch woman, her aggressiveness had been a major turn-off. It wasn’t a generalization as she had met plenty of soft-butch women who attracted her and weren’t as aggressive. It was just Marsh, she’d been an asshole. She had taken Ellen’s ‘No’s’ and ignored them, kissing her into silence, and taking what she wanted. She justified her behavior that femme’s said ‘no’ when they really meant ‘yes.’ There was no way Ellen ever wanted to be with such a woman again.

  * * * * *

  By the time Ellen was entering her final year of college, she’d had a couple of girlfriends. Some were sweet and nice, some a little less than that. She learned early on that she needed to stay in control to enjoy herself. Her first orgasm was eye-opening. She loved it, she didn’t however understand what exactly had caused it, the girl wasn’t particularly important in her world. It came on and surprised them both. They however, were not meant to be and broke up the following week.

  * * * * *

  “Why do we have to move to the Santa Clara Valley? Isn’t that up by San Francisco?” she asked confused.

  “It’s where all the tech firms are heading, it’s where we can get a leg up on the competition,” he explained.

  “But why…” she began again.

  Holding his finger across her lips he said, “They nicknamed it Silicon Valley.”

  She blinked, first at the touch, and then as her agile mind thought about the name. “Silicone? As in that shit they put into boobs?” she asked incredulously.

  He shook his head with a laugh. “No, as in silicon chips, it’s where they make a lot of tech gadgets for the whole country. Hell, the whole world someday,” he expounded excited. Just as quickly as his excitement rose, it fell. “How are we going to afford all this?” he cried over the lists that Ellen was forcing him to make.

  “We need plans boyo, we need to plan this out carefully,” she explained. They both knew they were young and inexperienced and could easily be taken advantage of. Between the two of them, they hoped to create a company that would make graphics that would knock peoples socks off. They just needed the computers to do it with, but the programs weren’t there yet, much less the computers themselves. “Let’s work the summer up there; with our degrees that we will have in June, we should be able to land some pretty decent jobs. Then, when my payments come in from the co-op, we can do a start up,” she told him confidently.

  “But don’t tell anyone,” his enthusiasm returned at her plans.

  “I know dummy, it’s why I limited who could see what you had already developed,” she told him. She’d been labeled his ‘bitch’ of a girlfriend and hurt many nerds feelings with her no-nonsense approach to the files that Ryan had developed. Her advice had been heeded, but only because she was right and Ryan agreed with her. His enthusiasm over his gadgets and ideas had to be reined in and he knew it, he had wanted to brag, but they had to keep it quiet. He let Ellen take the brunt of it. Her insight into marketing and development though, it was brilliant and he hoped they would be successful with what he had hidden away on the computer they had managed to purchase. They’d stayed away from Macintosh products, because they were proprietary about their stuff. IBM and compatible products offered a vast array of possibilities and he had jury rigged amazing things from it. They also had to stay off the school computers so that they couldn’t say they were proprietary to school work and get a piece of the action. Ryan and Ellen both were excited about what they could build here, if they could just keep it under wraps until the right time.

  “Be good,” he said.

  “Be careful,” she responded.

  * * * * *

  Their graduation, which they both attended, was almost anti-climactic. Ryan’s parents refused to travel all the way from Michigan and there was no one else for Ellen but she did see Blossom and thought she glimpsed Greg waving madly. They were far apart so she couldn’t quite be sure. They were there for each other though. And, Ryan’s current boy-friend, an obnoxious toad by the name of Jeremy who kept hanging on them both, made it seem it was all about him.

  “Now?” she breathed as they went out to dinner.

  “I need to do it carefully,” Ryan said under his breath.

  “You mean, you wanna get laid one more time before you kick him to the curb,” she told him succinctly.

  He grinned without remorse and nodded.

  She shook her head at him.

  The next morning as she packed the last of her things from her dorm room she realized it had been four years since she had roomed with Blossom, four years of practically being alone as kids came and left and she finally had a private room to herself. Being an upper classman had its advantages. Rarely did people stay in the dorms for six years, she had, Ryan had. In the summers they had even been allowed to stay as they both took classes so that they had masters in more than one field. They had the knowledge that their professors could impart, they had the degrees that would help them get excellent jobs, but they also had the plans of youth that just might get them ahead in this world, and the enthusiasm that might make it work.

  “You about ready?” Ryan asked from the doorway.

  She looked up from her musing and nodded.

  “You aren’t nostalgic for this old place are you?” he asked as he picked up one of the boxes of books.

  “Naw, but I’ll miss it you know,” she told him as she too grabbed a box and followed along behind.

  “It’s been a long six years,” he lamented. He was eager to start life. His adopted sister, his best friend was coming with him and he loved her for it. She accepted him without question.

  They got to the parking lot where Ryan had parked their truck, a beat up old Datsun with orange faded paint. It ran, which was the most important thing, but Ellen would miss her motorcycle which she had sold back to the owner who originally sold it to her. He had cried when he got it back two days ago. It had been in as good as, if not better, condition than when she bought it from him. He had thought it was gone forever. His baby, now six still couldn’t ride in it, but his son would have it to look at when he was older and perhaps handed down to him too.

  Ryan opened up the camper shell of the Datsun and shoved her box in with his which were neatly stacked at the front of the bed.

  “Will we have enough room for my trunks and things from storage?” Ellen asked, reminding him.

  “Sure, there’s plenty of room,” he assured her.

  Together they brought the boxes and suitcases down from her room, one by one, trip by trip. It took a good hour or so and finally the room was clean. Ellen ran the vacuum from their dorm floor over the carpet one last time before locking the door behind her and leaving the key in an envelope.

  “Did you turn yours in already?” she asked, gesturing with the envelope.

  “Yeah, but my room wasn’t nearly as clean as yours,” he grinned.

  She laughed, shaking her head. He was a neat freak about his electronics. None of the expensive gad
gets he had acquired over the years was visible in the back of the truck. All of them were neatly packed in their original containers if he still had them or carefully packed in the boxes they had purchased the other day for their move. She knew he would protect his toys.

  They put the trunks and other boxes she had stored in the storage locker in last. It made for a tight fit.

  “Do you ever look at this stuff?” he asked as they packed the last of it.

  “Yeah, actually I do. Most of this is my mother’s stuff, pictures and things that were important to her. Daddy didn’t want me to see them, but after he was gone, I went and took what I could that hadn’t already been stolen.”

  “What do you mean stolen?”

  “People loot things after a tornado like that. Not everyone does. But how would you know where to return it if it blew into your yard?”

  He looked at her strangely as they got into the pickup; she rarely talked about ‘the event’ that had changed her life, so these little tidbits were enlightening. He drove her to the admin office and she quickly ran in with her key and got a receipt. “Let’s get on the road Jack,” she said brightly.

  “Dontcha look back,” he returned quickly.

  “No more, no more, no more,” they sang together as they started out on the eight hour drive north to San Francisco.

  * * * * *

  The dump they managed to rent was barely affordable on the funds the two of them had left before their paychecks would begin to come in.

  “I can’t believe this is Silicon Valley,” Ryan said as he looked around at what their meager funds had managed to find them.

  “Well, we got to start somewhere,” Ellen told him cheerfully as he began to set up his electronics and other toys. “Hopefully it’s only temporary,” she said prophetically.

  The apartment only had the one bedroom so they flipped a coin and Ellen won. It was a good thing since the living room was taken up by most of Ryan’s things anyway, including the computers and other electronics that he assured her would make them their fortune.