Defiled Seduce Night

by Marie Cisneros

  Cynthia's eyes did not waver. They pierced deeper.

  "We were lovers. It was a hard breakup. She liked to hit me," Anne said.

  "I don't like abusive people, Anne. Especially to a kind person such as you." Cynthia moved her gaze away, and Anne blinked her eyes, trying to shake off the stupor. "I thank you again for the ride, Anne. Perhaps I'll see you tomorrow night. I'm sure my van will be in the shop for a few days, I can take my other car."

  Anne nodded as Cynthia left.

  The gate opened as Cynthia approached it, and closed afterward, responding to the remote control on her keychain. It looked very impressive to Anne.

  The next night, about ten in the evening, a solid black Stingray pulled up outside the Spot Tavern. Cynthia slipped out. The pale white full moon mirrored her milky skin. She wore a black short leather skirt with black boots, a red silk top and a thin black leather jacket. Her keys and the remote control to her gate she hung off a belt loop. Slowly she walked in, making very little noise.

  The Spot Tavern smelled of old, rich wood, cigarette smoke and stale beer. The lights were dim, mostly because the cheap fluorescent tubing. The bartender was a thick, beefy man, bald who was cleaning a glass with a rag while watching the replay of a baseball game on one of the many wall-mounted televisions.

  Tables and chairs were to her immediate right and to her left, was an open room containing four billiard tables. Anne waved at her and called out, "Cynthia, over here."

  Cynthia turned her head, and slipped off her Ray-Ban, folding them neatly and putting them on the interior of her coat. She moved with an unearthly quietness. Most of the crowd wore blue jeans and t-shirts. The men and a few of the women stared. It had been a long time since anyone had wore that kind of an outfit in The Spot.

  "Glad you could make it, let me introduce you to the crowd. This here is Brian, and that is Will. Over there is Henry and James, and on that other table are Marilyn and Penny," Anne said, introducing her one by one.

  Cynthia smiled and wondered if perhaps she had been a bit too hard on herself, isolating the way she did.

  "Got to warn you about something, though. Someone said that Marie might come by tonight, and that will mean trouble. They had to toss her ass out last time when she took a swing at me," Anne said.

  "These things happen, I'm sure. Perhaps just some basic reasoning might convince her to stay away, or at least be less abusive." Cynthia noted.

  "I don't want anything to do with that bitch. She's hurt me a couple of times, and that's two too many."

  "I agree with you, but as a general rule, I don't like violence. It has been my experience that when you promote violence, it only increases. That doesn't mean you should be trod upon, by any means, but violence serves no one but those who make the weapons."

  "You sound like a pacifist," Brian said.

  "Not entirely. I believe that people should be aware of the power of weapons, the finality of shooting someone with a gun, or slashing at them with a knife. I have a concealed carry permit, and on occasion, I have used it. If you're prepared to take a life, that is the only time that you raise the barrel. You must first exhaust all of the other possibilities first," Cynthia said.

  Brian merely grunted. "Well I'm not going to let anything happen to Anne."

  Cynthia nodded. She truly did not like confrontation and was happy to leave it to others.

  Anne poured beer as they began to talk about the job of nursing, and Cynthia asked her if she knew how to play pool.

  "Well a while back I was over in England, and they played a game like pool, called snooker. I was okay at that, but never got to play much. There were some excellent players there and they really killed us newbies pretty badly." She said smiling.

  "We play 9-ball around here. It's a very simple game, you just have to shoot the balls in order," Anne explained, racking the balls.

  "I'll watch this one, okay? Give me a feel for the game. Let me get us a round of beers." Cynthia said, slipping back up to the bar. She came back with two pitchers of dark, rich Obsidian Stout.

  "You drink the good stuff, huh?" Brian said.

  "I acquired a taste for darker beers and lagers in Britain. They are more commonplace there than here. Some pubs even brew their own beer, which can make life very interesting as you move about the country." Cynthia replied. She poured the immediate group of four a round.

  Will broke and shot two balls in. Anne managed to drop two more balls and they alternated back and forth until Will dropped the eight ball in and left with good position to drop the nine ball.

  Cynthia spied a deep tanned woman come in through the front and the bartender beckoned her over as she entered. It looked as if he was giving her a stern lecture. Her response was to smile and nod and put up her hands in a palm-up gesture, an indication of submission. She gestured to the pool cue she had in a case. The bartender glared at her and then nodded. Cynthia heard Anne gasp and watched Brian and Will's body language become a bit more protective.

  Cynthia turned and whispered directly into Anne's ear. "Marie, I presume."

  Anne nodded.

  Marie went to the table opposite the quartet and began to shoot pool with another group of people. She said nothing to Anne, but once, when she thought no one was looking took a long, hard stare at Cynthia. Cynthia felt this look and stared back with her cool glance. Marie responded to this with a sneer.

  In four short hours most of the patrons had gone, leaving only Cynthia, Anne, Marie, Brian and the bartender. At two o'clock in the morning, the bartender called for a last round and informed everyone the tavern closed at two thirty. Marie left.

  Brian looked at Anne.

  "See? No problem. She just needed to be told that no meant no," he said. He was mildly drunk, and put a friendly arm around Anne.

  Cynthia watched the two of them, and concluded that Brian had a serious soft spot for Anne, and was hoping to get lucky that night for all his hard work.

  Anne stopped that quickly by giving him a friendly hug saying, "Thanks Brian. I think I'll be okay now. I appreciate it. You're going to make someone a good husband some day."

  Cynthia had to bite her lip to prevent from chuckling.

  Brian's inebriation allowed him to take it well, and he wished them both goodnight and left. They watched him get on his motorcycle and drive away, as the bartender locked the doors. The two walked out to their cars, chatting idly.

  "Bitch!" Maria roared, leaping out from beside Anne's car. "I'll tear you and your little cunt friend apart!" Anne didn't have a chance to respond, when a fist struck her upside the face, she slammed into the pavement, crying and bleating like a stuck pig. Maria turned toward Cynthia, pulling the heavy end of her billiards cue out of its case. "You I'm going to mess up good."

  Cynthia replied coolly. "You don't want to do this."

  "Like hell I don't!" Maria sneered. "I'm going to mess your pretty face up so bad, she can see you when she goes to work."

  Maria swung the pool cue. Cynthia merely stepped back a few inches.

  "Anger is a weapon only to one's opponent." Cynthia stated.

  Maria roared like a wild anima, swinging madly, striking and missing, the pool cue making a loud swooshing noise. Cynthia did not move, but waited, softly wagging a finger at her, baiting her toward the darker parts of the parking lot. She backed away from Maria as she swung again, and again, each strike getting closer and closer. Only when Cynthia felt her back against the bar did she side step one of the blows.

  The pool cue struck the side of the building with a loud thunk; the vibration of it against a solid surface bounced it out of her hand. Cynthia caught it as it flew past, and balanced it in her fingertips, rolling it like a baton twirler, and then cast it away into the night. "One last chance, Maria. Anne and I are only friends. I do not get out very much, and she was trying to be kind to me, inviting me out. I'm a nurse, and if you just walk away now, I can get Anne patched up and we can forget this ever
happened."

  "Fuck you!" Maria said, alcohol fueling her courage. She threw a punch straight toward Cynthia's head.

  Cynthia caught the punch at Maria's wrist, in a fluid, twisting motion, used her inertia against her, sending Maria sailing toward the side of the building where she crashed headlong into some garbage cans. Maria was stunned, and Cynthia did not allow her any quarter, following her into the deeper darkness, her eyes having no trouble finding her target even in the stygian night. A few, short, powerful punches and Maria acquired two broken ribs and two black eyes.

  Cynthia crouched down and spoke, holding her head by her hair, shaking it for effect. "Ever come after her, or come around here again and I'll personally hunt you down. I will enjoy hurting you, I will call a few of my friends to help, and we will all take turns on you. You will beg for death, and we will not give it to you. Do you understand me? Do not even think of calling the police, because I have people there too. Go home, lick your wounds, and stay away."

  Cynthia turned on a heel, gracefully, without waiting for an answer. Anne had managed to right herself up and was crying softly.

  "Come with me." Cynthia said.

  Anne merely nodded, getting into the Stingray.

  Once past the gate, Anne could see that the house was large, easily six or seven bedrooms, a mini-mansion of sorts. Cynthia eased her to a large, plush couch and gently applied ice wrapped in a towel. She gave Anne a half smile, "don't you worry, I'll vouch for you at work. We were out at the tavern and you hit a doorstop. Real nasty mess, too."

  "What about Maria?" She gasped.

  "I don't think she'll be around much. I saw her take a header into some garbage cans. Looked painful. I was more concerned about getting you to safety." Cynthia said.

  "I saw her swing at you, with her pool cue," Anne replied.

  "She was a lousy shot," Cynthia replied. "It never connected with me. I guess she was too drunk."

  Anne started to sob softly, "I really loved her, you know? It's just she was so dominant. She wanted to control my life. I don't need that."

  Cynthia swallowed softly and gently sat next to her, wrapping an arm around her. While her hands were cold to the touch, there was the touch of humanity in them, of simple kindness from one person to another. Anne nearly fell into her arms and felt safe in them.

  "It's going to be okay, Anne. Really, it is. I'm here, and Maria won't be back, okay?" Cynthia said, her icy composure weakening.

  Anne nodded softly and took the pack off. The side of her face had a stunning purple bruise on it. She set it on the floor and used both hands to hold Cynthia tight. Anne responded by holding her as if she were a child and the two women merely cuddled each other in the darkness, letting silence bind wounds and heal maimed spirits. Cynthia reached down with her face to say something, and on impulse, Anne reached up. By coincidence, their lips grazed each other.

  Anne pulled back as if scalded, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

  "I'm not offended, Anne," Cynthia replied, stroking her hair.

  Anne licked her lips, and Cynthia could see them glisten in the starlight streaming through the open windows. Softly their lips met like two pairs of a scissor, closing. Their lips parted and met again, with soft tenderness. Cynthia's mouth and lips were cool, a sharp contrast to Anne's warm, bubbly nature. Their kisses became passionate. When they broke again, Anne softly nuzzled into Cynthia's neck, nipping.

  Anne's brilliant white teeth glinted in the night as she felt the hot breath against her throat. From somewhere, deep inside her a guttural moan let loose, a vocal expression of emotions and feelings long dormant, longing to be free. Anne chewed softly. She was slow, and teasing. Cynthia's voice became ragged as her normally calm pulse quickened. Her head lowered down and softly nipped at Anne's forehead, away from the bruise.

  Anne's hands softly unfastened the top part of Cynthia's blouse, her warm fingers softly trailing along her breastbone, gently rubbing against the satin fabric of the top of her bra. Cynthia looked down to watch, and nodded gently. With a flip of her wrist, Anne's dexterous fingers undid the center clasp of Cynthia's bra, and her beautiful ivory breasts fell free. She had bright pink puffy nipples which pointed out and looked like chocolate kisses. Anne's mouth found one of them and suckled gently, her tongue flickering softly at the teat, teasing it into erection.

  Cynthia's strong hands gently rubbed at the back of Anne's neck, encouraging her to suckle more. Anne did so, and was paid with a soft, moaning, "yes..."

  Anne smiled and kept her mouth on the breast while softly unbuttoning the rest of Cynthia's blouse, peeling her open like an onion. Her other hand massaged Cynthia's free breast. Cynthia squirmed gently in the couch, and softly Anne's lips traveled lower, trailing tender kisses to her navel, her nose eventually ending at the front button of Cynthia's skirt. Her eyes looked up, asking.

  Cynthia could only nod. It had been many, many years since anyone had ever wanted to pleasure her.

  Softly Anne slipped off the couch, her hands gently reaching up the skirt to run the backs of her fingers along the dampness of her black satin panties. Cynthia's hips moved with a life of their own, her feet kicking off the heels, thighs spreading wider. She could feel Anne's warm breath trail up her inner thigh, and felt the first traces of Anne's tongue as it worked its way nearer the cloth barrier.

  Anne smiled to herself, feeling good that she was able to make someone else feel good, knowing somewhere deep inside Cynthia would never abuse her, never hurt her. With only her lips, she pulled at the thong underwear, tugging hard. She manually moved Anne's legs in order to slip the underwear down, and was rewarded by the sight of a neatly trimmed bush. Anne's mouth softly moved forward and her tongue tenderly rolled up Cynthia's outer labia, tasting her tender, succulent juice.

  Cynthia moaned louder this time, egging Anne on, her hips softly rocking into Anne's mouth. Anne licked deeper, with a flicking motion, working up and down the inner labia, then gently nosed up softly to her clit, tenderly rolling its hood with her lips. Anne's tongue found the tender bundle of nerves and with great care gently started to tease Cynthia's blood engorged nub.

  Anne slipped three fingers into Cynthia's tight dampness, her lips and tongue still teasing her womanhood. Gently she rocked her face in time with her hands, pushing deeper into Cynthia's pubic region, sucking hungrily as if she were a child at a mother's breast. Cynthia's body convulsed, as if shocked by a bold of lightening. She quivered, moaned and outright screamed in ecstasy, having her first orgasm by another person in well over twenty years. Her juices splashed Anne's face, causing her lips to shine. She pulled her face back and smiled at Cynthia, with a look on her face not unlike a puppy dog that had just pleased its mistress.

  Cynthia panted for just a moment, then looked down, and licked her lips.

  "I'd like you to spend the night. It's been a very long time since I've had the pleasure of sucking on another woman's pussy."

  Anne grinned.

  "I have only one rule. Don't open the blinds or curtains during the day. My skin is so sensitive, it will literally burn."

  "I understand its okay. I work night shift because I like the darkness. My eyes are a bit photosensitive," Anne said.

  "The curtains and blinds are all set to timers. They will close about a half hour before dawn, and open after dusk. We can go get your car tomorrow night." Cynthia said, her eyes meeting Anne's.

  "I understand. I won't touch them," Anne said, sincerely. In the pitch-blackness, Cynthia led the way to a bedroom where a huge canopy bed awaited them.

  In a few months time, Anne moved in. Cynthia relied on Anne to take care of things for her during the day, and Anne helped Cynthia repair her damaged self-esteem. Together, they formed a friendship and intimate relationship based upon trust, and love.

  Until the drunk driver hit their car, five years later.

  ***

  "Anne," Cynthia whispered, looking down at her love. "I've come to my dec
ision. I have decided I would rather be judged by you, and your morals and values, than loose you. I hope you understand. I am not going to give you new life, but a curse. It will bring you back to me, because I don't want to spend eternity without you. I hope you understand."

  The only response in the hospital room was the cold beeping noise of the pulse monitor.

  "You've always suspected what I'm going to show you was the truth, but we never needed to talk about it. We always had our understanding. My past was that, my past. You accepted me, loved me, and desired me for the person I am. I cannot give that up. I'm truly sorry if what I'm going to do now offends you, but please, understand; it's only out of love that I do this thing."

  Cynthia stepped back into the room. She slowly closed the blinds to the interior and exterior windows, and turned off the lights.