by Lyn Gardner
Robin’s eyes creased at the corner as she reached down for the hem of Judy’s sweater. “No,” she said, pausing as if waiting for permission. “Saying lots of prayers.”
Judy’s gaze met Robin’s, and with an infinitesimal nod, she lifted her arms and a moment later, her burgundy V-neck was tossed aside. Still wearing a flannel shirt and long-sleeved tee, the coolness of the room hadn’t yet found its way to Judy, but by the look in Robin’s eyes, Judy knew it wouldn’t be long.
A few hours earlier, Robin had changed into her lounge-around-the-house clothes. The drawstring sweatpants and long-sleeved thermal top hidden under a gray hoodie made sense at the time. The old house was sometimes drafty and cold, but Robin was anything but cold. She reached for the zipper on her sweatshirt, but before she could find the tab, Judy pushed her hand away and then ever so casually drew the zip downward. The fleece found the floor a second later, and a second after that, Robin began unbuttoning Judy’s flannel.
Riveted by the need she saw on Robin’s face, Judy stood motionless as yet another layer of her clothing was removed. Robin knelt at her feet for as long it took to untie her hiking boots, and after Judy kicked them off, while her height shrunk by an inch, her boldness grew by a mile. No longer wanting anything between them, Judy stripped off her long-sleeved T and threw it aside.
With the only light in the room coming from the candles, Robin couldn’t tell if Judy’s bra was pale blue or pale green, but edged in lace and thin in material, nipples pebbled and hard could be seen through the fabric. Robin’s body tingled with awareness, and wasting no time, she rid herself of her own thermal. She pulled Judy back into her arms, and swooping down, Robin captured Judy’s lips in a kiss, ravenous and wet, laying claim to what was hers...if only for one night.
Judy relinquished all control of her body to Robin, melting against her and relishing the feel of her fingers as they danced over her skin. Goosebumps would appear and then fade in an instant as Robin’s hands roamed over her arms, her back, and her shoulders, and when they returned to a clasp, Judy craved for its release. Their lips parted, and through heavy-lidded eyes, she looked up at Robin. Her bra loosened, and Judy unconsciously held her breath as Robin drew the straps down her arms.
She expected to feel exposed, to feel somewhat bashful, somewhat disconcerted standing half naked in front of Robin, but instead, Judy felt emancipated. Freed from the burden of obligations and secrets, autonomy had finally found her, and it felt wonderful. For this moment in time, she could be who she was. For this moment in time, she could love who she wanted, and for this moment in time...she would.
Age is just a number for in the throes of passion, ageless minds and timeless instincts take over. Hands lightly speckled with spots are forgotten, wrinkles everlasting go unseen, and breasts no longer as perky as they once were remain breathtaking in the eye of the beholder.
Robin lowered her eyes and swallowed the moisture building in her mouth. Creamy and round, with peaks aroused and dark, Judy’s breasts were faultless. They rose and fell with her breathing, Judy’s gasps as shallow as Robin’s were becoming, and as Robin locked eyes with Judy, she reached out and cupped a breast in each hand. In unison, they sighed, Judy’s eyes closing and Robin’s opening wider as she became entranced by the orbs in her hands. Velvety and warm, they fit perfectly against her palms, and she held them for a moment before running her thumbs over the tips. In an instant, the centers grew rigid, and Robin licked her lips. Sliding her hands to Judy’s waist, Robin spun them around so she could sit on the edge of the bed, and pulling Judy close, Robin tasted the fruit no longer forbidden.
“Oh, God,” Judy said in a breath, her head falling back as she buried her hands in Robin’s hair.
Robin captured a nipple between her lips, gently tugging on the tip before sweeping her tongue around it, teasing it, tempting it, and making it grow even harder in her mouth while she tended to Judy’s other breast with her fingers. Massaging and then tweaking the tip of one while she suckled hard against the other, Robin kept one hand firmly on Judy’s back, holding her close while the woman arched and squirmed...but Judy wasn’t the only one squirming.
With Judy standing between her knees, Robin couldn’t close her legs to temporarily squelch her libido. Her inner walls were pulsing almost in time with the beat of her heart and with each throb, her titillation flowed. Glistening and thick, it had already soaked through her panties, and she knew without looking the light-gray material of her sweatpants had darkened to the color of charcoal. While the position afforded her a banquet of decadent delights, the raw ache in her core, although pleasurable, was rapidly becoming punishing.
Robin lifted her eyes and waited until Judy’s fluttered open. The coolness of the room no match for the fever building between them, Judy’s face was flushed, and her brow gleamed with perspiration, and Robin licked her lips again. One beat of her heart later, her fingers found the fasteners on Judy’s jeans.
As Robin drew the denim down over her hips, Judy stepped away long enough to rid herself of something no longer wanted, but her eyes remained on Robin. Her bra was black, underwired and sculpted to present, and the fullness of hidden treasure rose above the spandex. Entranced, Judy watched as Robin stood up for a moment, and as she stepped out of her sweatpants, a wealth of the woman’s cleavage came into view. When Robin straightened a second later, Judy swallowed hard at the magnificence before her.
Robin’s skin appeared like that of a porcelain doll, flawless and ivory, and although the contrast was stark against the ebony of her underwear, it was nonetheless, stunning. Judy had seen Robin wear skinny jeans enough to know she was slender, but without clothes, new dimensions were now added.
Years of long-distance running could be seen in thighs defined by muscles, and a stomach thought toned became far more than that. Robin’s waist was indeed narrow, and her hips, curvaceous and deliciously feminine, and Judy drew in a deep breath. She wanted to see more...and she wanted to touch.
Judy took a step, raising her mouth at the same time Robin’s descended toward her and when their lips met, Judy found the clasp of Robin’s bra and freed it. The sound of Robin’s moan was all it took for Judy to deepen the kiss, and their bodies separated only long enough to allow the bra to slip away. They came back together, bare breasts pressing against bare breasts and feeding on the sweetness of Robin’s mouth, Judy’s urges grew wanton.
Robin succumbed to Judy’s tongue, to her taste, and to her hunger until the aroma of their arousal was thick in the air. It rose from between them, a musky fragrance born from lustful fervor, and when she felt Judy’s hands on her breasts, a lazy stream of sensual wetness began making its way down Robin’s thigh.
Breaking out of the kiss, Robin’s mouth dropped open as she sucked in air. “Oh, Jesus,” she murmured, and grabbing the quilt covering her bed, she yanked it down. Lowering Judy to the sheets, Robin moved on top of her, and slipping her leg between Judy’s, Robin slowly began to rock.
Judy arched instantly, reveling in the pressure of Robin’s knee against the junction of her thighs, and a thin layer of cotton did nothing to dampen the sensation. She opened her eyes for a moment as Robin hovered over her. Her eyes had turned dark, and in the inkiness was lust and possession. At that moment, Judy knew she had become clay, and as she closed her eyes, Robin became her sculptor.
Robin blazed her way across Judy’s neck and shoulder with a trail of kisses while never losing the rhythm she had set. Over the years, when Robin’s fantasies had brought her to this point, her imagination had conjured up a utopian intimacy beyond compare. A world of make-believe where feelings and fluids were copious. A world where erotic wants were answered in kind, and a world where animal impulses went untamed. At the time, Robin had no idea the world her mind had created could possibly exist, but she did now.
With each slide of her body, Judy was moving against her knee, and with each kiss bestowed on skin dampened by sweat, Judy would writhe under her, rubbing her breasts ag
ainst Robin’s in a bawdy show of need. Gulping for air, Robin rolled to her side long enough to strip off her panties, and getting to her knees, she looked down at Judy, swallowing hard when Judy raised her hips.
Cotton now darker in areas than the blue purchased was drawn down Judy’s legs, and Robin breathed in a scent that made her mouth water. The triangle of tight curls shimmered in the candlelight, Judy’s ambrosia coating all that was near, and when Robin’s knee found its home again, there was no fabric in the way.
Adrift in a sea of shameless and unbridled impulses, Judy wrapped one leg over Robin’s bottom, meeting each of Robin’s thrusts with one of her own. Never before had she been possessed by another, not like this. Not like this. Nights shared with Scott had been more giving than ever receiving, and the only possession was based on a license and matching bands. As hard as she tried to be what she wasn’t, in bed, she could not deny the truth, and ecstasy had never been hers. He never knew. Just another lie to cover up another lie, her moans and movements had been false, but not any longer. Not any longer.
One devouring kiss was followed by another until Robin shifted and knelt between Judy’s legs. Their eyes met, their needs matched, and opening her legs, Judy watched as Robin slithered up her body. On arms now locked at the elbows, Robin floated over Judy, and arching her back, she rubbed her sex against Judy’s.
The feeling was overwhelming. Potent in power, like a surge of electricity it rushed from Judy’s center like lightning. Her scalp tingled. Her fingers prickled. Her legs began to shake, and raking her nails down Robin’s back, she grabbed Robin’s bottom, silently begging her for more.
Robin was losing a battle, and she was losing it quickly. Her core was pulsating. Her juices were flowing freely, and a need, molten and animal was demanding release. Her arms began to tremble, and as she stiffened, knowing she was powerless to prevent the crescendo, she heard Judy cry out, the moans guttural and the meaning...crystal clear.
“Yes,” Robin said in a breath, her pleasure erupting and sending shudders through her body. Her groans matched Judy’s, and husky and unchecked, they rose in her throat again and again as she rode wave after glorious wave of release.
Chapter Forty-Two
It had been a night of love and lust, and a night of moans and uneven breaths, where skin gleamed with sweat and the words spoken were involuntary. Spontaneous utterances had slipped from their lips as the fury of their passion took them to heights unimaginable, but other dialogue wasn’t allowed.
More than once, Robin tried to speak, tried to whisper what she longed to say, but each time Judy placed her finger on Robin’s lips, quieting her with the slightest shake of her head. There was no tomorrow, and there was nothing to say.
Consumed by a dream that was no longer a dream, Robin would forget what the morning would bring until she’d look into Judy’s eyes. At times, they held only rapture. Brimming with yearning or arousal, her pupils were dilated to the extreme, but at others, the pale blue had turned dull, subdued by a cloud, looming and steadfast.
Sleep had escaped them for hours, their needs taking precedence over all else, but just before the gray dawn streaked the sky, Robin closed her eyes. She told herself it was only for a minute, and she kept her fingers intertwined with Judy’s ensuring any movement would wake her, but in sleep, bodies relax, and Robin’s did. In a tangle of sheets and blankets, and in a room thick with the scent of sex, slumber took hold and pulled Robin into its darkness.
Exhausted from a night like no other, dreams played no part. Her mind was quiet and blank. There was nothing to rouse, nothing to startle, nothing to alert her to awaken, so for almost two hours Robin didn’t move an inch, but bodies have clocks. Internal or warning they can bring consciousness in an instant. A distant sound unusual and sudden, a forgotten task remembered, or a decision dreaded, and the densest fog can dissipate in a fraction of a second...and it did.
Robin hid behind hooded eyes, not daring to view the morning. She listened to the room. The purrs of a cat no doubt snuggled at the foot of the bed. The occasional ting of the baseboard heating. The sound of her own breathing, and outside the windows she could hear the wind. The aroma in the air held in its bouquet the remainder of a scent, and Robin swallowed.
An anvil sat on her chest, pressing down with the weight of the inescapable, each inhalation was fought for, and each exhalation solidified in her throat before finally escaping. Robin swallowed again...and opened her eyes.
The sun had found its way through the gaps in the shutters, and the slashes of light streaking across the ceiling brought with it all the visibility Robin needed. She took a shuddering breath and rolled her head to the side. It was the side Judy had claimed, the side where she should have been sleeping with her hair ruffled and her face possibly puffy from slumber, and anguish rose in Robin’s throat. Tomorrow had arrived.
Robin squinted, the rays of sunlight like lasers in her eyes, and blinking away the spots, she ran her hand over the void in the bed. The hint of the indentation no longer held any warmth, and Robin’s chin began to quiver. Glaring at the emptiness, she willed it to be replaced by life again, demanding that time reverse itself and bring back the woman she forever wanted to hold in her arms, but it wasn’t to be. That side of the bed was now barren and cold…and it would be for the rest of Robin’s life.
Robin’s chest grew tight, and as she choked back a sob, she saw something on the nightstand. She forced herself to draw in a breath as she picked it up, and tears began to stream down her face when she read the label on the key fob. Spare Front.
As if she wanted to annihilate the meaning of its existence, Robin clutched it in her hand as she pulled herself into a ball. Unchecked, sobs erupted from her lips, her strangled wails masking all other sounds in the house.
***
Like acts in a play, Pam had an order to her disorder, a finite set of steps she followed to win the game of domination. First was to assault character, to smear by words or photos the virtues of another, and as friends began to drift, she’d use her victim’s weakness to her advantage, devaluing their existence and tainting their self-worth. If they wavered, if they stood stronger against the tide Pam was creating, she’d attack their lifestyle, her devaluation of their work and their personal life yet another scene in her theatrical production. Her pièce de résistance was the closing act, an act she had planned several times over her life, but there had never been a need for it to come to fruition. Up until now, no one had ever dared push Pam to that point. Up until now, no one had ever had the audacity to withstand her onslaught and dare shove her over the line. Up until now, Pam had never needed to unveil her final act for behind the drapes was only one thing. Revenge.
Pam was not a stranger to the feeling. Behind everything she did, reprisal played a part. Those rich were made poorer. Those successful were set up to fail, and those intelligent would eventually doubt their own abilities, but recovery was possible. More money could be earned. Successes could again be attained, and uncertainties could be eased over time, but there was one thing that once taken could never be replaced…and that one thing was life.
In movies and in books, when revenge is planned, often it is done in the gloom and shadows of night, yet Pam always thought that was odd. Actually, she thought it was stupid. One misstep and a motion light could illuminate even the darkest of yards, and a lone stranger ambling down a road lit by streetlamps is noticed by neighbors peeking through blinds or a pet owner, giving their dog one last sniff at a bush. But in the morning, awake and ready for their day, people exit their homes and those not toddling off to work can be found jogging, walking, or bicycling. So, if invisibility is of the utmost importance, how better to arrive at it than to blend in with your surroundings…and Pam had blended perfectly.
She stood on the porch with her head bowed, the hood of her jacket concealing her face as it had all morning, and reaching into her back pocket, Pam pulled out her wallet. The edges of the leather were worn, and the once slim bi
llfold bulged to over an inch in thickness. Its contents were a mishmash of old pawn tickets for items she had never owned, vouchers and coupons for discounts at local stores and restaurants, and a healthy wad of credit cards. All but her lowly debit card had been canceled, their limits reached and never repaid, but Pam was not a fool. She knew looks can be deceiving and how easily it was to deceive when she could prove her wealth by flashing a stack of shiny, plastic rectangles…before deciding to pay in cash.
But Pam had long ago found another use for credit cards, and freeing one from her wallet, she slipped it between the door and the jamb, scoffing under her breath when the old latch released almost immediately. Entering, she closed the door behind her and paused. A smirk pulled at her lips. There was no smell of coffee or aroma of bacon, eggs, or pancakes with syrup hanging in the air, but nevertheless, Pam didn’t move. She cocked her head to the side, concentrating on hearing even the slightest clink of silverware against breakfast dishes, and when none were returned to her, Pam’s smirk grew wider.
She pushed the hood from her head and began to creep through the house, cautious of even the noise of her jacket rustling as she moved. As she approached the bedroom door, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her weapon of choice. Pam never cared for guns. She found them too bulky and noisy to bother with, but knives were different. Knives were like snakes...silent and just as deadly.
Pam pressed the button on the side of the knife, and like a viper thrusting to attack, the bayonet blade sprang to life. The sheen of the steel of the double-sided shank sparkled back at her, its surface unblemished and its edges honed to match that of a scalpel.
She moved closer to the bedroom, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the knife, and when Pam noticed the door wasn’t closed all the way, she smirked again. This was going to be easy. Standing inches away from the opening, she listened for a moment. There was no sound. There was no movement, and placing the tip of her finger on the door, she pushed it open ever so slowly.
