by Jaime Maddox
Warned by some that a house built so close to the river was sure to flood, her grandfather’s grandfather had consulted a team of engineers about the construction of his home. They had recommended a thick foundation of stone built so high that the first floor of the house actually sat nearly a story above ground. Periodic spaces in the stone, which appeared at a distance to be windows, were actually left open to allow the Susquehanna to flow through and relieve some pressure on the structure. Though enclosed, this cellar was left empty. It had often taken in water when the river came up, but the Parkers had rarely suffered anything more than an inconvenience due to flooding.
With a Greek Revival element at its heart, the great front porch with columns supporting the roof afforded a magnificent view of the river rolling just a hundred yards away. A magnificent front staircase of stone stretched across the entire porch, and whether it was intended or not, it served as the perfect seating for guests at the many Parker spring and summer social events. The boxy design sported a long central hallway with a grand staircase of wood to the right, and the seven rooms on the lower level all opened off this corridor. Of the five grand bedrooms on the second floor, Sandy’s room in the rear of the house opened to a corner balcony facing woods and river, and her grandparents’ suite at the front opened over the porch onto their own private balcony. The unique style was functional and beautiful, perfect for this setting beside the Susquehanna.
Yes, she’d miss this house. It would always be her home. She couldn’t imagine calling another room her own, or having a Christmas without the tree in the center of the window in the parlor where her grandmother played carols on the piano. She had never eaten a Thanksgiving turkey that wasn’t served on her grandmother’s “good” china from the dining-room table that overlooked the river, where an original Norman Rockwell painting hung on the wall.
She looked back at the beautiful girl beginning to stir beside her on the bed. It was the desire to share her bed and her life with this girl that would force them both to flee this town and all that was so comfortable and familiar.
Jeannie’s curvaceous body was naked, and as she rolled away Sandy admired the shapely calves, the round bottom, and the long back draped with chestnut hair that fell in curls across the pillow. She couldn’t see the large breasts with the nipples that sprang up under her tongue, breasts that fit perfectly in her hands and her mouth. She couldn’t see the speckled green eyes with the long dark lashes, the cute nose, the full lips, or the round face of the girl she loved, but she had spent so much time of late studying them that she could probably have sketched them from memory.
Although only two inches taller than Jeannie, Sandy was all angles and hard muscle, the product of the sports she played and the work she chose to do, whereas Jeannie was soft, every inch of her feminine. Sandy was blond and fair, with blue eyes the color of the depth of the ocean. Jeannie was dark, both skin and hair, and occasionally her temper, too.
The two of them had just celebrated their seventeenth birthdays. Sandy and Jeannie Bennett were destined to be together, she mused, since they had first met in the nursery at the Nanticoke State Hospital on the day they both came kicking and screaming into this world. Sandy didn’t know if she fell in love with Jeanie that day, but she certainly did three years later when she saw her again, playing in her mother’s flower garden and wearing her Easter dress. Sandy promptly joined her there, and they successfully rid the garden of most of its tulips before they were discovered and dragged away in opposite directions, both of them screaming. In her mind’s eye she could still see Jeannie in that muddy pink dress. Sandy could still see the tears that she understood were not cried over the trouble she was in but over the separation from her new friend.
That was Sandy’s first memory. Of course she had no memory of the father who died in a car accident before she was born. Nor were there any of the mother who buckled under the weight of raising a little girl alone and unceremoniously dropped her off with her late husband’s parents one Easter Sunday and left, never to be seen again. She had a million happy memories after that first one, for she had lived a blessed life with her grandparents, growing up in the hamlet of West Nanticoke, along the west bank of the Susquehanna River, in the house next door to Jeannie Bennett.
Sandy treasured these mornings when Jeannie was with her, knowing how precious they were. They’d been best friends since the age of three, lovers for two years now. Though their personalities were opposite—Jeannie outgoing and adventurous, Sandy reserved and cautious—they liked all the same things. They possessed that rare chemistry that allowed them to understand each other’s unspoken feelings and finish each other’s sentences. They could do anything together, but could do nothing just as well. They could talk or enjoy the quiet where not a word was spoken and the only sounds were the turning of pages or the whistling of the wind.
Since that first play date in the flowerbed, they spent every moment they could together, only ever wanting to be with each other, never questioning the forces that pulled them together. Riding bikes, swinging on swings, fishing, hiking, playing, working, studying, exploring the amazing little world they shared, they were always together.
The norm was nightly sleepovers during the warm summer months, almost exclusively at the Parkers’. Once school started in September, though, their nights together were limited to weekends and holidays. Precise planning and cunning were required from September to May, when they had to squeeze in alone time according to opportunity. They welcomed June like rain after a drought! June, with the warm weather that allowed them to hike in the mountains and make love beside streams. June, with the long days that allowed them more time together to play tennis or basketball at the park. June, with the relaxation of the rules that allowed Jeannie to spend every night in Sandy’s bed.
As their final year of high school approached, Sandy’s growing sense of excitement was ever harder to contain. So soon, it would all be in motion, like a Radio Flyer speeding down the mountain path at top speed, gliding atop the snow. Right now she was climbing the mountain, with Jeannie beside her, pulling the sled behind them, but they were fast approaching the summit and the ride of their life.
Enjoying June, and July, and August—that was Sandy’s goal for the summer. She wanted to savor each moment, taste each morsel of time, allowing them to spread across her tongue like a bite of chocolate. After she left for college in a year, Sandy would never be able to call this place home again. This house she loved and the friends she’d known all her life would no longer be her sustenance, only a sweet dessert enjoyed on rare occasions. She wanted to make memories of her home and friends, and especially her grandmother, enough to last her a lifetime.
She and Jeannie were both applying to colleges, and while the Bennetts planned for their daughter to enroll at College Misericordia in nearby Dallas, she and Jeannie had secretly written to colleges in New York City so they could study there. There had to be other girls like them, other lesbians, but she and Jeannie weren’t likely to find them in their small town. If they went to college in the big city, they hoped they could find them and a place where they would fit in.
Jeannie wanted to study medicine and Sandy wanted to study money. That Sandy’s grandfather had been a physician and Jeannie’s dad was an accountant only reinforced for both of them the belief that they were destined to spend their lives together. Having grown up in a family doctor’s house, with the office occupying two rooms on the first floor, Sandy understood medicine. Jeannie understood finances. They were a perfect match.
Since both of them were at the top of their class, and Sandy was the best basketball player in school history, they were hoping for scholarships to pay the way through college. Both families could afford the tuition, but neither girl anticipated a favorable reaction when they announced their decision to head to New York. They might be on their own. However, as long as they were together, they would never be alone, or lonely. They would make it.
The sun continued its advanc
e across the room and finally reached the pillow where Jeannie rested her head. When it reached her left eye, she rolled out of its path toward Sandy. Smiling, Sandy opened her arms and pulled Jeannie closer. It was still hard for her to believe that Jeannie loved her and that they could find so much pleasure in each other’s bodies and such joy in the love they shared.
Sandy had waited long enough for Jeannie to awake. Gently, she kissed each of Jeannie’s closed eyelids. “Open,” she said to each of them in turn.
Like their owner—spirited, independent, defiant—they refused. “It’s too early,” Jeannie complained.
“It is early,” Sandy whispered as she kissed Jeannie’s temple and then her ear, slowly winding her way to that very sensitive place just behind it. In response, Jeannie moaned softly, tilting her head back, and Sandy took advantage by kissing the newly exposed flesh.
“Awakening before the rest of the world does give one certain benefits,” Sandy suggested.
“Such as?” Jeannie liked to tease Sandy. In spite of her earlier protest, Jeannie was now fully awake and anxiously anticipating the benefits Sandy had mentioned.
“It would be best if I demonstrate.” Gently, Sandy pushed her onto her back and continued to place soft kisses around her ear, venturing over to her lips for a moment before jumping back to Jeannie’s neck. Just this teasing had Jeannie so excited she had to fight to keep still, but she tried, wanting to prolong the pleasure and savor the wonderful sensations Sandy’s mouth was bringing her.
The intensity of their passion was still as strong as it had been on their first night together. Jeannie hadn’t grown tired, or bored, and still wanted Sandy so badly she could hardly concentrate on such matters as algebra and history or washing dishes and waxing furniture.
By the irregular pattern of Sandy’s breathing, Jeannie knew Sandy was equally excited, yet she maintained her slow and deliberate pace. She eagerly welcomed Sandy’s tongue in her mouth, and she delighted in the soft caress of her breasts. Sandy’s knowing fingers expertly tweaked Jeannie’s perky nipples, stimulating the hardened tissue to grow even more erect. Jeannie moaned in response and opened her eyes as Sandy’s mouth left hers and found her breasts. She watched through eyelids heavy with desire as Sandy licked them, teasing with her tongue before trying to take one entire voluminous breast into her mouth. Sandy alternated from one breast to the other as Jeannie held her head, caressing it at times and at others holding it fast where she wished it to stay.
With her head held firmly against Jeannie’s breasts, Sandy’s hand began its own venture—along her ribs, the side of her breast, across her stomach, and to the mound of curls at the bottom of her abdomen. As this movement continued, Jeannie could no longer keep still. She released Sandy’s head and she lifted her hips in welcoming anticipation of Sandy’s hand.
A knowledgeable finger parted the hair and found its way to the outer folds of Jeannie’s sex, where it softly circled the perimeter, edging ever closer to her core with each revolution. By the time Sandy plunged that finger inside, Jeannie’s hips were dancing to the rhythm of her rapid breathing and pounding pulse. Moaning, thrusting, she wrapped both arms around her lover, attempting to draw in the entire hand that was giving her such pleasure.
Sandy lifted her head to look at Jeannie and was, as always, overcome with emotion. Jeannie was absolutely gorgeous, but never more so than when they were making love. Her head thrown back, her hair in disarray, and the burning desire in her eyes all filled Sandy with love and longing beyond words. The ache between her own legs was growing with each movement of their bodies, and Sandy ground her hips against Jeannie’s, relishing the pleasure that contact gave her, driving her more wild, giving her more determination to bring them both to the place they needed to go.
Thrusting her finger in and out, Sandy matched the rhythm of Jeannie’s hips and they moved together, taking Jeannie higher and higher and Sandy right along with her. Sandy turned slightly, moving just enough to find Jeannie’s mouth with her own, and their tongues clashed. Jeannie’s arms wrapped even tighter around her, pulling her closer, closer as she thrust against Sandy and moaned. The pressure in Sandy’s clit was exquisite, her wetness creating a puddle on Jeannie’s leg. Jeannie pulled her face back to look at Sandy. Sandy thought for the millionth time how beautiful Jeannie Bennett was, how lucky she was to be her lover.
Jeannie’s eyes were only half-open and unfocused and her mouth was half-open as well, and Sandy could feel heavy breaths against her face. Hazy eyes met Sandy’s. “I need your mouth on me.” It was both request and a demand, whispered with so ragged a breath that had Sandy not known her partner so well she might not have understood her.
Pushing up with only one arm she was between Jeannie’s legs in the span of a heartbeat and plunged into her wetness. She thrust her finger wildly, adding another as she sucked Jeannie’s swollen, throbbing clit into her mouth and licked it with her lips and her tongue. Burying her fingers in Sandy’s hair, Jeannie pulled her closer, tighter. Instantly Jeannie began to moan, and then she groaned loudly. Sandy continued the movements of her tongue and her fingers, pushing Jeannie further until Jeannie’s spasms began to subside. Still Jeannie gripped Sandy’s head, not releasing her hold until the final shudder ceased. A moment later Sandy felt her lover collapse onto the pillow, her body still except for the heaving chest expanding and falling with each quick breath.
Sandy didn’t move from the place between Jeannie’s legs, but she stilled her hand and tongue. She simply rested her head upon Jeannie’s thigh, inches from her swollen, dripping labia, drinking in her intoxicating smell as she tried to regain control of her own breath.
“Holy shit,” Jeannie murmured. “That. Was. Amazing.”
“Yes, it was.” She didn’t enjoy anything as much as giving Jeannie such pleasure. And even though she hadn’t climaxed yet, Sandy was calm, enjoying this incredible connection they shared, knowing her time would come, and when it did, it would be well worth the wait.
They were quiet and still for a minute. Then, just as Sandy anticipated, she felt the gentle squeezing against her fingers as Jeannie began to tighten around her, still not quite satisfied. The rocking of Jeannie’s hips soon followed as she again initiated the motions that would help her find the release she craved. Sandy shifted just slightly and kissed Jeannie’s inner thigh, at the spot just where it joined her groin. Shifting further, Sandy kissed all of Jeannie’s sex, her clit and labia, sucking and licking, and as she did, Jeannie nearly broke her fingers with the strength of the contractions in her vagina as she orgasmed for the second time, laughing softly after the groaning.
This time, Sandy didn’t hold her position and rest. Understanding that Jeannie could continue to orgasm indefinitely if Sandy encouraged her with further attention, she pulled back, anxious now for her own pleasure. At that moment, after bringing Jeannie to two orgasms, the throbbing between her own legs was becoming unbearable and she needed some attention herself. Rising, she kneeled and positioned herself above Jeannie’s mouth, and holding the headboard for balance she began a gentle rocking of her hips against her lover. Jeannie wrapped her arms around Sandy’s thighs, pulling her closer, and allowed the hot, wet tip of her tongue to meet Sandy’s clit. As she felt the heat Sandy began to shudder, coming almost instantly, and her legs collapsed so that only her arms clinging to the heavy cherry headboard supported her.
Collapsing back into Jeannie’s arms, Sandy shared teasing laughter with Jeannie. “You’re so easy,” Jeannie complained. “I don’t get to have any fun!”
“No fun?” Sandy tickled her.
“Well, maybe a little,” Jeannie conceded, and her response resulted in an even more vigorous assault.
Afterward, they lay side by side, studying each other. “I love you,” Sandy said, brushing a lock of the unruly hair that had fallen across Jeannie’s forehead and covered a sparkling green eye. She pulled her closer and kissed Jeannie’s forehead, a gentle kiss that spoke of all the love she felt for
her.
Jeannie smiled, and a sigh of contentment escaped her lips. “I love you, too.”
Loving Sandy from their first moments together in the garden all those years ago, Jeannie could have lived happily without another friend or playmate for all of her life. Her needs were few, her tastes simple. She had been fortunate in her life and had never been hungry or had to do without. The only thing she’d ever really craved was Sandy Parker. For most of her life she didn’t question it. As a child she didn’t understand there was something unusual about her feelings for Sandy. She only knew that her moments with Sandy were her happiest and that she spent her moments without Sandy thinking about nothing but Sandy.
At the advent of adolescence, as the other girls she knew began the tireless pursuit of the opposite sex, Jeannie first understood there was something different about her. While her friends spoke endlessly about the wonders of boys and their desires to kiss said boys, the only one Jeannie had any desire to kiss was Sandy. Intuitively she understood that this information was something to hold private, that she could share it with no one, even Sandy. She didn’t believe Sandy would share those feelings. She kept them to herself, certain that no one would understand her attraction to her best friend.
Uncertainty caused her to pull away from Sandy. Or, at least, to try to pull away. She really couldn’t stay away from Sandy for more than a little while. Sandy was the one Jeannie wanted to talk to, to laugh with, to look at, to be with.
By occupying her mind with school and sports, helping her dad prepare taxes in his office, and running the student council, Jeannie was able to keep these feelings in check, only having to worry about them when her mind was still, like when she tried to sleep at night. Or on those magnificent occasions she was alone with Sandy and would have liked more than anything to kiss her.
