by Fiona Zedde
“I brought your purse,” Rémi called softly toward the bathroom.
She sat on the bed, picked up the little sweater with its three-quarter sleeves and tiny faux pearls stitched across the material that cradled her lover’s breasts. It seemed miraculous that this tiny bit of femininity in her bedroom belonged to Claudia. It seemed miraculous, too, that right now Claudia was with her. Was loving her.
Her lover appeared at the bathroom door, her face covered in a fine foam, grinned her thanks then disappeared back into the small room. “I don’t need it, love, but thank you.”
And Rémi lost the memory of why she was in the bedroom in the first place. Instead she lost herself in the sounds that her lover made. The sounds of intimacy.
The gush of the faucet then the sounds of Claudia drying her face. A twist of the jar of face cream, Rémi guessed, and the soft patting noises of her applying the cream. The porcelain on porcelain sound of the toilet opening.
Rémi leaned back against the headboard, imagining Claudia’s curved bottom against the white toilet, her small feet perched side by side in their high heels waiting for the sound of piss to hit the water. The image made her smile.
“You know I never understood people who could read while on the toilet,” Claudia said.
“What’s there to understand?” Rémi watched the bathroom’s empty doorway, the stretch of black tile waiting for Claudia’s feet to walk over them.
“It’s distracting. I figure I’m here in the bathroom for one thing, maybe two.” Laughter bubbled up like new wine from the back of her throat. “I don’t want to be distracted from that with news of the latest goings on in Hollywood or”—papers ruffled as she apparently went through the pile of reading material on top of the small table by the toilet—“the next riveting chapter of Art and Rage in Modern-Day America.
“There are some things in there that I can only read when I’m forced to. Ergo toilet literature.”
“That’s pretty impressive. I can’t multitask in here. See. I’m having a hard time just peeing while talking to you.”
Rémi laughed. “Okay. I’ll shut up.”
“No, don’t stop. I love the sound of your voice,” Claudia hummed in pleasure. “It’s like velvet, rough and soft at the same time. I just won’t say anything back to you for the next forty seconds or so.”
“All right. Just for you, I’ll do that.”
And Rémi talked. She didn’t listen very closely to what came out of her mouth, only kept up the steady stream of one-sided conversation until Claudia emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, smiling.
“I like a woman who can do as she’s told.” She leaned over to kiss Rémi, tug her to her feet. Her eyes searched Rémi’s for a moment, the lashes flickering in a face held still with seriousness. “Thank you for being in my life,” Claudia murmured, pressing a hand to Rémi’s chest.
Rémi pulled her close until their breaths were the same and she could feel her lover’s heart beating undeniably against hers. “My pleasure.”
In the kitchen that had been barely used before Yvette arrived, the three women laughed, cooked, shared the bottle of white wine, and ate the meal that Claudia and Yvette prepared. Tender slices of duck, fragrantly spiced with coriander, cumin, and the fiery bite of whole peppercorns. Grilled tofu marinated in orange juice, garlic, and red pepper flakes. Earth black olives, steamed carrots, and perfect spoonfuls of red rice. Rémi couldn’t remember the last time she had a meal this delicious at home. She went back to the stove for seconds, batting Yvette’s hand away when her sister pinched her waist and told her to leave some for lunch tomorrow.
“I can make another batch,” Claudia offered, but Yvette pouted, saying it wouldn’t be the same. Rémi made a show of leaving two large pieces of tofu behind just for her.
After dinner, Rémi washed the dishes while the other two women watched most of a reality show before falling into a conversation about the nature of reality. Rémi joined them on the couch but only laid her head in Claudia’s lap while the conversation flowed above her head, lulling her into a light doze. Yvette sat curled on the sofa, her body leaned slightly toward Claudia, her thin hand gesturing, occasionally plucking at the neckline of her shirt as she spoke.
“These people don’t even know what reality is.”
“But we, the voyeurs, don’t care. As long as we don’t have to deal with our own realities in the meantime.”
Still talking, Claudia lightly raked her nails through Rémi’s hair, and her hand, fragrant with the remnants of spices from cooking dinner, teased Rémi’s nose with scent. Much later, the night ended where it should, with Claudia tucked into the crook of her arm, snoring softly while the darkness in Rémi’s bedroom gently cradled them into the next day. Together.
Chapter 24
The crowd was like nothing Rémi had experienced before. Buttoned down, academic. Men in tweed jackets, oxford shirts, some smoking pipes. Women in flowing dresses and sensible shoes. A few gray-haired hippies in Birkenstocks.
Rémi stood back as yet another university colleague greeted Claudia with kisses and smiles. This time, a tall Asian woman in a brightly colored sarong and bangles clinking up both arms.
“I’m glad you could come to the party, Claudia. You look great.” Her voice dipped low in surprise.
And that’s what Claudia had confessed to Rémi as they lay in bed together nearly a week ago.
“Most of them see cancer as a death sentence,” she said in the quiet hush of her bedroom, fingers light against Rémi’s belly, head cradled on her chest. “Even though the cancer is gone, they probably expect me to show up looking skeletal and pathetic. They’ll pity me. I don’t want that.”
So Rémi had agreed to be her date to the pre-spring break faculty party, although both Dez and Derrick had offered Claudia their company and support for the evening. With only a few exceptions, everyone seemed genuinely glad to see her, hugging the slight woman, laughing at her wry jokes. And their eyes lit up with speculation when she introduced Rémi.
“Thank you, Leah. I feel great,” Claudia said to her colleague. She reached back for Rémi’s hand. “I’d like you to meet a very good friend of mine, Rémi Bouchard.”
Claudia smiled as Rémi leaned in to take Leah’s hand. But Leah shook her head. “I only believe in hugs.”
The other woman stood a foot taller than Claudia. Her lips brushed Rémi’s ear as she squeezed enthusiastically before slowly letting go. “A pleasure to meet you,” Leah said.
Rémi practiced her manners. “Same here.”
Leah turned back to Claudia. “Everyone is so glad to see you. We all missed your presence last year.”
“I wish I had been able to come.” With another smile, Claudia squeezed Leah’s hand. “And thank you for the flowers and the cards that you and Dennis sent. They meant a lot.”
“You’re absolutely welcome.” Leah kissed her cheek again, said something to Claudia that Rémi didn’t catch, then floated away to greet another guest.
From Leah they went to Melissa then Shanice then Ingrid, until Rémi’s head spun with all the names and faces and facts of their positions at the university. While her lover talked at length with the lumbering but gentle professor of Russian language, she took herself off to find the snacks, weaving past eyes that latched onto her with obvious curiosity.
At the food table, she bit into a slice of the Havarti with caraway seeds, surprised by the creamy texture of the cheese and the burst of flavor the seeds left on her tongue. She made a mental note to look for it next time she went to the market.
“—and did you see that butch dyke she walked in here with?”
The voice hissing low from behind the big potted palm brought Rémi up short. She stopped chewing.
“I don’t think anyone missed that entrance.” The masculine voice was thick with scorn.
“Do you think that they’re . . . you know?”
“It sure would be a waste if they weren’t. That stud is hot. D
id you check out her ass in those pants?”
“You whore. Sometimes I think you’d screw anything with a pulse.”
“Is that why she never fucked you?”
Feminine laughter trickled from behind the plant. Rémi chewed, swallowed, stepped from her inadvertent hiding place behind the palm.
The man spoke up again. “I just never thought of Claudia as the type to go that way.”
“Your jealousy is showing, Preston. She doesn’t want you. Move on.”
“I’m sure that stud is a much better bargain than you anyway, Pres. When was the last time you even went down on a woman?”
A chorus of laughter answered the obviously rhetorical question.
“Pardon me.”
The group of four, some she’d met earlier in the evening, stared at her with startled eyes. Rémi nodded at them in cold-eyed acknowledgment as she walked past, barely holding back her smile at their obvious discomfort at being caught gossiping.
She found Claudia not far from where she left her, this time laughing with two men who stood much too close to her for Rémi’s liking. The younger one, blond and closer to forty than his gray-haired friend, kept sneaking glances at Claudia’s body. Rémi imagined him getting hard at the way the mint green dress outlined her taut shape, at the sight of the firm nipples pressed against her gathered neckline.
His type was probably more in line with what Claudia wanted—academic, male, and into tweed. A surge of jealousy squeezed her throat tight, making impossible for her to finish the small plate of cheese and crackers. In the kitchen, she tossed the food in the trash and poured herself a glass of white wine.
“Are you having a good time?” Leah appeared at her side, reaching with a tinkling of gold bangles for the merlot.
“Yes, thanks. This crowd is not quite what I’m used to. But it’s all right.”
Leah squeezed her elbow and leaned in with a smile. “Good. I’m sure Claudia appreciates you coming to the party with her even more.”
No more than she appreciated her lover inviting her here into her world. It would have been very easy for Claudia to keep their relationship separate from everything else in her life, but she didn’t. And as boring as this party was, Rémi was glad to be there.
“I hope so,” she said in response to Leah’s comment.
Wine in hand, Rémi left the kitchen to wander through the rest of the house. It was typical of places she’d seen only in the movies: bookshelves built into nearly every wall, some held books but others had knickknacks from other countries—Japanese fans, African statues, Venetian masks. Native American dream catchers in lulling shades of blue hung on the walls. The chairs in each room were thick and cozy, made for curling up during long conversations or for making love. She sank into one, feeling the leather conform to her ass and thighs. Very nice.
“I’ve been looking for you.” Claudia stood in the doorway, a glass of something clear and sparkling in her hand. A woman in a brightly colored dressed walked past in the hall behind her.
“And now you’ve found me.”
Claudia stepped into the study and closed the door behind her. “Lucky me.” Her smile lay loose and relaxed across her red mouth.
Rémi chuckled. “And how lucky do you want to get?”
Claudia’s low laughter joined hers and she allowed the door to take her weight. “I won’t answer that right now on the grounds that my response will incriminate me.”
“It’s only me, baby. Anything you say to me will be kept in the strictest confidence.”
Claudia licked her lips. “Really?”
A pulse leapt in Rémi’s lap. She was trying to be good. But her lover was making it very hard. The way she leaned against the door, one foot flat against the wood, pushing her hips forward, the graceful curve of her belly, the nipples like batting eyelashes. How easy would it be to convince Claudia to let her fuck her in this house? Tonight? Right now?
“You look gorgeous in that dress.”
Rémi imagined tearing it off Claudia, pushing her against the wall and fucking her from behind. The base of the dick she’d packed earlier—just in case—pressed against her clit. She sucked her bottom lip. Oh, the noises Claudia would make.
“Thank you.”
Lured by the look in Rémi’s eyes, Claudia pushed herself from the door. Came closer. “When I put it on, I thought of you taking it off me.”
“Really?”
“No. But I like the sound of it.” Her thigh pressed into the chair near Rémi’s hand. The smell of green apples seduced Rémi’s nose as she leaned closer.
They both looked up at the sound of the door opening. A couple, framed in the light from the hallway, stood in the threshold.
“Oh! Excuse us.” The woman backed out and closed the door before her companion could say anything.
Rémi looked back at Claudia, smiling despite the fierce ache low in her belly. “I guess this room isn’t the most private.”
“I don’t care.” Claudia walked behind the chair and slid her hands down Rémi’s shoulders. Her fingers grazed the already hard nipples. Rémi hissed. Claudia bent low and she could smell her perfume, the champagne on her breath.
“Yes, you do. Especially when you have to face most of them at school after break.”
Claudia said nothing, only nibbled lightly on Rémi’s ear. Flicked her tongue along the sensitive whorl until a flood of wetness pooled between Rémi’s legs and she was near the point of not caring either. But that couldn’t happen. She stood up.
“Come. I know a place.”
It was a closet down the hall and away from most of the party. A walk-in with the scent of perfume and cologne and cedar hangers and their lust.
“I don’t know why this feels like the kinkiest thing I’ve ever done,” she said.
Claudia chuckled as their mouths came together with a hot, wet sound. Her breasts pressed against Rémi’s chest and she forgot everything else. Claudia might have said, “It doesn’t matter,” but that might have been Rémi too. Hands clawed Rémi’s shirt open and pressed against her chest, pinching the bare nipples until the fire flared all over her and she wanted nothing more than to sink into Claudia. Rémi gasped into her mouth. She was going crazy. But she felt like she’d waited all day for this, for Claudia’s fingers raking down to her belly. They gentled, but only a little, when they found her thick clit, her wet lips, her heart beating heavily in Claudia’s hands.
They panted into each other’s mouths. Even in the dark, she wanted to experience all of Claudia. She pulled the dress down, baring the small breasts. Rémi growled with frustration at not being able to see them, but oh they felt good. The hard nipples, the satin skin, Claudia’s breath trembling under her hands.
She turned quickly around, baring herself to Rémi, and the smell of pussy almost buckled Rémi’s knees. The panties pulled aside and her pussy naked to Rémi’s touch and imagination in the dark of the closet because she didn’t dare turn on the light. To say her lover was wet was an understatement. Rémi could have drowned in her. Could have died in her heaven with no regrets.
It was a small closet, smaller than she expected to find in this big house. But it was deep. Deep enough for them to push past the hanging clothes and find a space big enough for them both, and sitting low like a bench, a shelf with what felt like pairs of shoes. There were coats and shoes, a cashmere sweater that smelled like the sea. Claudia held onto the bar that held the hangers; she gasped and her breath was like champagne. Rémi freed her dick and pushed into her, gasping too, drowning in her clinging wet pussy. She felt cotton and silk brush against her naked ass as she pumped her hips. Sensation tumbling inside of her, prickling heat all over her skin, under her clothes. Rémi wanted to be naked with her. She wanted to feel Claudia fully under her. But she would take what she could get now.
Claudia reached back, squeezing Rémi’s ass; her hands slid in the sweat over her skin. Love you. Claudia’s nipples scored her palm with their hardness, tempted her fingers to
squeeze and pinch then move down the heaving belly, the tangled pussy hair around the clit that seemed to pulse to Rémi’s heartbeat. Love this. They grunted together, quietly, the drowning pleasure of their sex filling the closet with heat and musk from their bodies. Need this. Rémi twisted her hips. Kept pressure on Claudia’s clit until every thrust from her brought a grunt from Claudia, brought lightning behind her eyes, a saturating wetness under the dildo slamming into her clit. Need you.
Their bodies shimmered together. Slammed together and she felt the noise building inside Claudia, the sound roiling up from her clit, up into her belly, heaving with her chest, and bubbling up her throat. Rémi clamped a hand over her lover’s mouth. But she couldn’t slow herself, the push of her hips, the prickles of hot and cold over her skin as the cum rose up like a flattening wave. The muscles of her ass bunched and released. Fuck quick. Jackhammer heavy. The smells hidden in the clothes, in Claudia’s hair pressed into her face. The smell of their sex pushed into her throat. Rémi’s low shout caught her by surprise.
Too late, she tried to suppress it in the damp flesh of Claudia’s back. But she couldn’t retrieve the sound. Her heart thudded in her chest. A pulse pounded, thick and heavy, in her groin. Oh god. She shuddered, hips still moving in shallow thrusts inside Claudia. Her hand fell away from her lover’s mouth and Claudia shivered too, carried in the hollow cup of Rémi’s body. She laughed breathlessly and turned on Rémi with kisses.
“I love it when you fuck me,” she whispered. And the scrape of her breasts, incredibly, stirred Rémi again. She felt ridiculous and wanting, her body already shrugging off its recent orgasm to stand in hungry attention, salivating for Claudia again.
“How much do you love it?” Her voice didn’t rise above the press of breath against Claudia’s ear.
Her lover’s quiet laughter died. “Enough to let you do it again. Anytime. Anywhere.”
“Here?”
“Yes. Anywhere.”
That’s all Rémi wanted to hear. “Turn around,” she hissed. “Grab the rod again.” She prayed it was sturdy enough to hold Claudia again.