I brought my hands up slowly and explored their fullness. They were perkier than mine and beautiful.
“You’re so beautiful!” I exclaimed.
She wriggled down lower on the bed, slipped my skirt off over my feet and then my pink panties with little black frills on the sides disappeared too. Her kiss fell on my even more receptive skin and my pelvis arched up towards the delight. Her tongue flicked over my usually hidden little mound, which was peeking out proudly by then. She circled around, rubbed hard to and fro and then went down to the entrance where she added to the moisture as she penetrated and pleased me with her dexterous tongue.
I squealed as she replaced her tongue with a finger and brought her lips back up to the swollen node. She pushed inside me and rubbed over a spot which made my body quiver. I frowned.
“Wha-”
“You didn’t know about that spot?” she asked, taking a breath.
“N - No!” I stammered between ever deepening breaths.
She smiled and dived back in. My body twitched again as her fingers rubbed over the same spot. Every time it became harder to control the mounting wave of pleasure building inside me. She was taking me to breaking point very quickly. It took me much longer.
“Oh, that’s good!” I exclaimed.
Her tongue twirled and fingers pounded just right.
“Oh God. Yes!” I cried.
She looked up at me, framed by the V-shape of my legs and smiled. Though I was far from sober at that point, I would never forget the mischief in her eyes.
She increased her pace and my breathing followed suit. I gripped the pale lavender sheets in my hands as my pelvic muscles began to contract acutely. My back arched off the bed as the pulsing pleasure reached its peak. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. My body tensed up in anticipation.
“Argh!” I cried out as my body trembled and toes curled tightly.
The intense satisfaction pounded through my body and rang out in waves.
“Oh my God!” I declared as my heaving breath slowly ebbed.
She jumped back on the bed, looked down at me and giggled. How could I live without this in my life? This green-eyed demoness and the transcendental power of the music we both loved.
Well, that was it, I realized in the weeks that passed - I couldn’t live without it. So I didn’t. Every second weekend my car pointed in the direction of Charleston, South Carolina and sped happily towards my destiny.
Chapter 7
I took an Uber home from work, even though it was only a ten minute walk. I couldn’t wait to flop down on my sofa after my thirteen hour day. I reached my front door, put the key in the lock and then stopped. I looked down. Had someone left that there by mistake? Had it fallen out of someone’s grocery bag? I picked it up. Why would someone leave a pineapple outside my door? I put it back down and left it.
The following day was Sunday and my parents promised they would take me out for lunch, instead of the traditional meal at their house. I was looking forward to a different setting. When I heard them honk I ran downstairs. As I approached their car, I noticed someone walking towards me. I drew my breath in sharply as I recognized the figure. What was she going here? My parents would see her. Oh God!
Cale waved and walked towards me from the left. I glanced at her briefly and then back at my parent’s car. Had they seen her? Then my dad got out to open the door for me. Oh God! I hurried faster towards the car, but Cale was getting closer.
“Daisy!” she called.
I pretended I hadn’t heard her, but saw my dad glance Cale’s way. I dived into the back seat.
“But – who-?” my dad began, getting into the passenger seat.
“Let’s go mom!”
Thankfully my mother put her foot flat. I wanted to look back at Cale as badly as Orpheus in the underworld, but couldn’t bear to. What had I done? I suddenly exhaled and drew in a long, slow breath.
As soon as I was home again I tried to call her. Again and again and again. No reply. Her phone was off. I tried to message her. No response. And to make matters worse, my father had asked me who she was when we entered the restaurant. “Oh nobody,” I’d replied. What a Judas.
I had to go back to Charleston and find her. As soon as the weekend arrived I hopped onto the I-20. As I drove I thought back to my cruelty the previous weekend. I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t forgive me. But I had to see her again. I had to. The pineapple popped into my head suddenly as I glanced in the rearview mirror. Wait. You idiot! That was her. She must have put it there as a silly way to say she was in town. Oh God! Why hadn’t I figured it out? I bashed the steering wheel with the palms of my hands. Please let her be there. Please!
***
I could barely restrain myself from running the last block as I approached the bar on the beach. She had to be here. She had to!
I swooped inside. Not on the stage. No familiar faces. Not at the bar. I sighed and headed outside. Maybe she was upstairs. I forced myself to take one step at a time. From the second last step, I scanned the deck from left to right. No sugar skull tattoo. No green eyes. No dimpled smile.
Where could she be?
I drove to her boarding house and wrapped on the front door. No one answered. I knocked again, louder. Eventually, the door creaked open a crack and a bleary-eyed guy told me he didn’t think she was in. He hadn’t seen her for a few days. How would I find her? Where could she be? I hurried over to the shack where the beach party had been, but there were no lights on there and no bonfires.
I walked back down the deck and sank onto the sand. The eerie glow of the moon shimmered above the horizon and grew until it popped free of the water. I didn’t know anywhere else to look for her. The moon didn’t seem to know either and granted no solace to my rivers of tears. The next day my car drove slowly back to my empty, farcical life.
Every week I tried to call her, message her, email her. Nothing. Not even the busyness of work could keep my thoughts from straying to her. Eventually, my parents noticed something was wrong. They insisted on taking me out for dinner. I barely managed to change out of my work clothes and hurried out to meet them. We drove east for twenty minutes.
“Where are we going?” I asked my mother.
“Somewhere new!” she replied.
I looked up at the sign as we pulled up outside. It was a jazz restaurant.
“We know you like music and thought this would be a treat, hun!” my father said as he closed the car door behind me.
I smiled weakly, trying to cover the real emotions bustling beneath the surface.
“Open mic night,” the board outside said in curly chalk lettering.
“Oh dear,” mother said reading the sign, “I hope they’re not all useless!”
I couldn’t help laughing and laced my arm through hers. At least I still had my good ‘ol parents.
I studied the menu and opted for the shrimp and grits. Wouldn’t be the same without the fresh Charleston sea air, I thought and sighed quietly. I looked up at the stage as the musicians started playing. There was an African American man playing the double bass next to the piano.
I took a large sip of my wine.
“I’m surprised to see you drinking, missy,” my mother said as I put the glass down on the table.
Many things had changed that she didn’t know about. As the musicians settled into another song, I relaxed my tense shoulders and allowed the jazz lilt to carry me off. They were good. I wondered if they’d jammed together before. I took a deep breath and wished I was on stage singing. It was open mic night, I joked with myself. Yeah right.
I tucked into my seafood, but it didn’t impress me. Something was missing. I dipped my fork into the grits and stirred it around on the plate. The soothing sounds of the jazz stopped for a minute and I felt completely hollow again in the brief silence. Only the music could reanimate me. The music and Cale. My life was otherwise a bland cycle of monotony. I blinked away the moisture coming to my eyes as I stared down at my plate. T
hen a familiar voice came over the mic. I shook my head and continued to stare at my grits. I must have been imagining it. Then I looked up.
And there she was at the front of the stage, Cale.
“This next song is about following your dreams. Don’t let anyone or anything stand in your way to happiness!”
She put the mic back in the stand and went over to the double bass. I stared. As the familiar tune began on the piano, I sighed. I wish I knew how it would feel to be free. And the singer was just as good as Nina Simone.
Fate was forcing my hand. There would be no better time.
“Mom, dad, there’s something I have to tell you,” I began.
By the end of the song and my disclosure, the crowd stood up and applauded. There were even some whistles. But no one at my table stood up. They were both silent. Very silent. I knew they wouldn’t understand. I was just waiting for the yelling to begin.
“Are you serious, Daisy?” my mother replied after a long interlude.
Her voice was slow and steady, which concerned me even more.
“You’re really willing to give up everything?” my father asked.
His eyes looked sad.
“I need some air Pat,” my mother said suddenly and took hold of my father’s arm.
They got up and left the table.
There was only one way to explain what it meant to me. I had to show them. I got up from my chair and walked towards the stage. Another guitarist joined the musos and I took hold of the mic.
“Birds flyin' high, you know how I feel – ”
I was glad I’d decided to put on a dress in the end instead of my pants. I felt proud of my hips as they swayed to the magical, bluesy rhythm. I didn’t even look at Cale but heard the strings of the bass join in with the second verse of the Nina Simone classic.
“Fish in the sea, you know how I feel-”
I looked up and my parents were frozen at the top of the stairs, staring at me.
“River runnin' free, you know how I feel-”
After a minute my father ushered my mother off the staircase and to the side of the stage. I carried on singing. I couldn’t stop. There on that stage my body, my mind, and my soul were free.
“Yeah, freedom is mine, and I know how I feel-”
“It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me-”
I looked back at Cale. She was grinning like a Cheshire cat. I sang the last line to her.
“And I'm feelin'... good-”
Chapter 8
My mother reached out her open arms to me. I smiled, stepped down from the stage and walked over to her and my dad. I wrapped my arms around her. She didn’t say anything, but it was a different silence.
“I couldn’t believe that was you up there!” my dad said. “I was so proud!”
“Nina Simone doesn’t hold a candle to your beautiful voice,” my mom said. “Why have you kept it a secret for so long?”
I shrugged. “I guess I thought it didn’t matter,” I said, “that there was only one path laid out for me!”
We walked back to the table together.
“I’ve been unhappy for a while,” I added. “But I didn’t want to disappoint you guys!”
My mother wiped away a tear from her cheek.
“I know we’ve pushed you, love,” she said, “But we thought it was something you wanted too!”
My father nodded. “We just want you to be happy Daisy!”
“It doesn’t mean I’m not worried about your decision. How will you support yourself?” my mother asked.
I smiled at her.
“Oh mom, this is me. I have a plan!”
She shook her head and laughed. “Of course!”
I took a spoonful of New York cheesecake, savored the taste and told them about my plan.
“I’ve applied for a job at Legal Aid!” I said. “At least that way I won’t have twelve hour days and on weekends and some evenings, I’ll pursue my singing career!”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea!” my father said.
Just then Cale came over to the table. Oh well, I may as well get it all out, I thought.
“Mom, dad, this is Cale. She’s-”
“I’m her friend. Great to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Emerson.”
We shared a quick glance as she leaned over and shook their hands.
“We’re starting up in a few minutes again. I hope you don’t mind if we steal Daisy?”
My parents smiled. “Please do,” my mother said, “I haven’t seen her this happy for a long time!”
***
I took hold of the microphone and looked out at the small audience, the candle bulb chandeliers, with the taste of pineapple lingering in my mouth.
“Southern trees bear strange fruit-”
“Blood on the leaves and blood at the root-”
I did feel at home there in Charleston, like nowhere else. I glanced back at Cale. She may have had something to do with it.
“Here is a strange and bitter crop.”
I took a small bow as the local crowd roared and whistled. I would never get tired of that little bar and would never feel comfortable in large, fancy joints.
“We’ll see you next month again, Daisy?”
“Of course,” I replied, “Nowhere better to be!”
A bonfire burned on the beach as we went for a walk after the set. I took hold of her hand and held it firmly. Cale really had become the most important person in my life. She truly was a friend, a lover, and a muse. When we were on stage jamming together, I felt our soul’s rise up and dance together.
I had finally introduced her officially to my parents a month ago. They hadn’t seemed particularly shocked. She had even been invited for Sunday lunch thereafter which I had teased her about.
“Go and sit there a second,” Cale said, pointing at the dune, as we came up to the bonfire.
I shrugged, walked up the sandy slope and sat down. I saw her approach the fire and grab a stick from the massive flames. Then she was scratching around in the sand for a minute.
“Okay,” she shouted up to me. “You can come down now.”
As I stood up, I could already see what she’d created. She’d removed a few pieces of burning coal from the fire and formed them into a shape. I laughed and felt myself bursting with love.
There in the sand it stood; a glowing red heart.
“I love it!” I said as I ran down and kissed her. “I love you,” I added.
She giggled. “I know!”
Back at her digs, we crashed down onto her bed. Jazz music resonated through the thin walls. I stripped off all her clothes and reached down beside the bed. I opened a bottle, reached up and dribbled some of its sticky liquid over her bare breasts and down her stomach.
“What-?” she began.
“Shush!” I said.
I brought my lips down onto her soft skin and licked the sweet drops from her neck. The familiar pineapple tang filled my mouth. My tongue sucked the drops thoroughly from the peaked caps of her breasts, from the curve of her belly. I watched it run down her inner thigh and followed the trail down, licking the stickiness off her tanned skin.
Then I kissed either side of her neatly shaved runway strip. She giggled and gasped when I slipped my tongue into the warm, moist crevice. I liked the taste of her. It mingled with the tang of the liqueur. I pushed my tongue deep inside her, drew slowly out and licked all the way up to the swollen protrusion she had been rubbing with her finger.
She groaned. “You’re getting really good at that!”
“I’m a quick learner!” I joked and returned my mouth to its delicious hold.
I ran my tongue over it softly and then harder.
“Yes, like that,” she cried.
I pressed down harder again. Then I put two fingers inside her and her hot muscles clenched around them. I loved the feeling. I pushed them in deeper and found the spot she had taught me about. I always did like to learn new things. Judging by her subsequent groans
and the shuddering of her slender body, I wasn’t doing too badly.
“Jesus, Daisy!” she shouted as her creaminess exploded onto my fingers.
“Which is it?” I asked.
She panted and asked between breaths, “What?”
“Jesus or Daisy?” I asked, “Are you thanking the divine or Miss Daisy?” I continued.
She picked up a pillow and threw it at me.
Double Grades Page 21
