by Alexi Venice
“I know what you’re thinking,” Victoria said. “I like to keep the air temp cool inside, so I can enjoy my gas fireplace for ambience.”
Jen couldn’t argue with romantic ambience. Natural gas must be cheap in Wisconsin.
They situated themselves on a velveteen sofa that reminded Jen of the deep blueish grey of a stormy ocean. Victoria picked up a remote and pointed it at the fireplace. A small flame sprang to life, running horizontally for four or five feet. It was built into a granite wall that separated the living and dining rooms. Music played in the background, but Jen couldn’t make out the artist or tune.
They shared an awkward silence, as Jen took in her surroundings. Her tummy tightened, and she found herself clenching her jaw, as she mentally searched for the right words, no topic coming to mind.
Victoria placed the fire remote on the coffee table, settled her legs on the sofa in front of her, and turned her attention to Jen. “So, how was your day at the clinic? Did you like what you saw?”
I really don’t want to talk about this. “You were right. Very nice clinic. Nice people. Neal Olson is a class act…” Jen trailed off, incapable of analysis at the moment.
“But?” Victoria asked. “I feel a ‘but’ coming.”
Jen smiled and shook her head. She so didn’t want to get into this with Victoria. She hadn’t accessed her own observations and inferences yet, so had no idea what to describe to someone else. There was one area where Victoria might be helpful, though. “Not much diversity at Summerfield Clinic, is there? I felt like I was dropped onto a movie set of an Aryan society of straight people who are very paternalistic—with a begrudging respect for female intelligence—but nothing more.”
Victoria laugh-growled. “A stinging indictment. So, you didn’t like it after all?”
Jen drank her wine and let her eyes wander over the expensive furnishings and large pieces of art adorning the walls. She couldn’t decide if Victoria’s house was meant to impress or intimidate, or both. It definitely wasn’t designed or decorated to create cozy warmth, which is what Jen thought the purpose of a house was.
Even Amanda’s expensive, powerful world incorporated a feminine softness and sweetness that enveloped them in familial warmth. Jen returned her attention to the conversation. “I…I didn’t know what to think. It’s too soon to deconstruct the day. I have to sleep on these things.”
Victoria thoughtfully nodded and sipped her wine. “In terms of diversity, I know Summerfield has plenty of doctors from other countries. My gynecologist is from Nigeria, so I think they’re trying. Are you asking whether there are any lesbians?”
“I suppose so,” Jen said, running her hand through her hair. “I don’t want to be a novelty, as in ‘the new lesbian doctor.’”
Victoria laughed. “I’m sure you’re not the only gay doctor on staff. In fact, I worked with a gay couple from gastroenterology, one of whom was a doctor, I think. I’m not sure, now that you mention it. Anyway, it’s not like they can advertise that. What are they going to say? ‘Hey Jen, we have a lot of gays and lesbians on staff. Dot, dot, dot.’”
Jen shook her head. “I know. I didn’t expect that. It would’ve been nice to include some socially, though. I don’t even know what I’m saying. This is what happens when you try to dissect an interview too soon. I have to sleep on it.”
Victoria rested her hand on Jen’s thigh and squeezed lightly. “Let’s see if we can take your mind off the busy day, okay?”
Jen looked at Victoria’s broad hand, now massaging her quad, dipping into her inner thigh. She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, not quite owning the moment herself.
This is foreplay. Get into it. She continued staring like an alien as Victoria’s hand expertly caressed Jen’s skin, her thumb working the cord of inner thigh muscle, disappearing under the hem of her shorts, then sliding down her leg to her knee.
Jen took Victoria’s glass from her and shifted, so she could set both glasses on the coffee table in front of them. Victoria had been right, the fire created a romantic atmosphere in the open space, helping Jen shed the feeling that she was in a hotel lobby. She warmed to the idea of intimacy. That’s why I came here, right? For a night of carefree, guilt-free sex with someone who seems like she knows what she’s doing.
Victoria leaned into Jen then stopped, waiting for Jen to meet her halfway, her hand still exploring while she focused on Jen’s mouth.
Jen raised her finger to Victoria’s chin and coaxed her the last few inches until their lips met. As soon as they collided, Jen remembered the deliberate style of Victoria’s kiss. First, a brush of the lips, then a light kiss with more pressure and a light dragging back and forth. When Jen opened for Victoria, Victoria wasted no time in entering Jen’s mouth.
Victoria had all the right moves, that was for sure, but Jen still couldn’t embrace the moment. She hovered in the air, watching herself, observing the dance instead of immersing herself. Suddenly, she felt a warm tongue at the back of her neck and a furry body pressed up against her back.
“Whaaaaa!” she screamed, jumping off the sofa.
It was Reggie, the large, black, standard poodle.
“Holy shit! You scared me!” Jen said before she could stop herself. Breathing hard, she felt her heart pound in her chest.
“Oh geez, Jen. I’m so sorry.” Victoria clapped her hands. “Reggie, get down.”
The regal poodle sulked off the sofa, looking dejected. Jen patted the wiry tuft of hair on the top of his head, as he passed by her.
“I swear,” Victoria said, hand to her chest, “he’s never done that before.”
“He licked the back of my neck!” Jen wiped her hand across her neck, removing the slick residue. “I mean, I love dogs, but to have a hot, wet tongue lick my neck out of the blue while making out with someone in a foreign environment scared the crap out of me.” Jen placed her hand over her heart.
Victoria stood, arms open, and invited Jen in for a hug with a tip of her chin.
Jen accepted, finding herself in a strong embrace, her cheek pressed against Victoria’s long hair.
“I’m so sorry. Want to go upstairs where Reggie and Augie won’t bug us?”
“Could I possibly get a glass of water first?”
“Absolutely. I’d like one too.” Victoria released her grip and took Jen’s arms in her hands. “Am I pushing too hard too fast?”
Jen straightened, throwing her shoulders back. “Not at all. I was just thrown off course by Reggie’s faux paw.” She paused and looked at Victoria for a few beats.
“Oh. I get it now. ‘Faux paw.’ Funny.”
Jen smiled, proud of herself for adding levity. “I just need to relax for a while. I’ve had a strange day.”
“Maybe sit in the jacuzzi together?” Victoria asked as she turned off the fire with the remote and collected their half-full wine glasses. “I could soap up the back of your neck where Reggie licked you?”
Jen laughed self-consciously. “Yeah. That sounds nice.” She followed Victoria to the kitchen, taking note that Reggie and Augie trailed behind them. She glanced over her shoulder a few times to confirm that Reggie was respecting her personal space, his royal air and confident bearing unnerving.
As they walked into the kitchen, a wall of doubt hit Jen. Am I being unfaithful? Is this what I really want? She thought for a second. Unfaithful? To Amanda of all people! She fooled around on me first. I deserve this. I’ve earned this. She dug down deep for courage, but it was hiding behind dancing Nancy’s in the pit of her stomach.
Twenty-One
In the kitchen, Jen drained half of her glass, the ice-cold water refreshing. She held her empty glass to Victoria with a questioning look.
Victoria refilled it then turned to Jen. “Are you nervous?”
“No, but yes,” Jen admitted, pretending to take another sip, so she wouldn’t have to elaborate.
“Trust me, I get it,” Victoria said with a diminutive smile. “I’m nervous too, and I have the added
job of being the perfect hostess.” She made a sweeping gesture around her kitchen.
Jen thawed, grateful for Victoria’s understanding. “You’re a natural hostess, and you know it.”
“ Au contraire . You should’ve seen me 10 years ago. I was super awkward, but I like to think I’m pretty good at identifying my weaknesses, admitting them, then asking for help.”
“Who on earth helped you become a better hostess?” Jen asked.
“Believe it or not, there are seminars—in really fun places with good food and wine—for hostessing,” Victoria said.
“For restaurant hosting or at-home hosting?”
“Both, but I attended the sessions for residential hosting.”
“Fascinating.” Jen didn’t know what to make of that.
“I wrote it off as a business expense since I bring a lot of clients, and prospective clients, to my home and lake cabin.”
“Productive use of your time, I’d say.” Jen was gaining some insight into the methodical, analytical side of Victoria, which she apparently applied to her social skills as well as professional skills.
“So, as your hostess, I acknowledge the nerves that go along with being with someone for the first time.”
Oh God, we’re going to talk about this first? Too much talking leads to…ah…cold feet. Jen didn’t know what to say, so she wrapped her hands around her glass of water.
Victoria’s sage-colored eyes focused on Jen. “There’s no escaping it. Hopefully, the excitement and pleasure outweigh the nerves, right?”
Jen nodded as she held eye contact with Victoria, feeling more, not less, nervous. Did they teach transparency at hostess school?
Victoria closed the gap between them and gently, but firmly, placed her hand at Jen’s elbow. “Would you like to follow me upstairs?”
Jen swallowed, paused, and considered. Her conservative morals wrestled with her adventurous spirit. Don’t think. Just do. “I would.”
Victoria nodded, broke contact and led the way, wisps of her black hair floating as she parted the air through the expansive living space.
Curiosity overtook Jen, as though Victoria were a curator leading Jen to an exhibit in the upper level wing of a museum. In fact, on their way through the living area and up the open staircase, Jen noticed several pieces of art for which she did not care or appreciate. What was the word for this style? She searched her brain, trying to recall, simultaneously wondering why she was trying to remember a term of art while following a potential lover to her lair. “Neoplasticism” floated through her mind. That’s it. Can’t stand it. Don’t get it. Mondrian. Ugh.
With terrified excitement, Jen stayed one step behind Victoria and one step ahead of the dogs. As soon as they entered Victoria’s bedroom, Victoria closed the door before the dogs could join them.
Victoria sailed through her bedroom into the spacious bathroom, and Jen heard the turn of a faucet and water filling the tub. She looked around at the well-appointed, immaculate room and suddenly didn’t know what to do with herself. At least the dogs weren’t staring at her. Should I recline on the bed? Clothes on or off?
Victoria returned and didn’t give Jen the chance to ponder any longer, so determined was she to move their relationship down the runway.
“Hey, sexy,” Victoria said before she claimed Jen’s mouth.
Jen surrendered to the moment, lost in a passionate, if not well-choreographed, kiss. Victoria’s lips brushed Jen’s. They kissed with closed lips. Victoria swiped Jen’s lips with her tongue, asking for more. When Jen parted, Victoria took a deep dive while unbuttoning Jen’s checkered shirt.
Chills raced through Jen, sprinkling her arms and legs with goosebumps. Not bad.
“Beautiful,” Victoria said against Jen’s lips, as she pushed Jen’s camp shirt to the floor.
Jen raised her hands overhead as Victoria slowly peeled Jen’s tank toward the ceiling. She quickly unbuttoned and unzipped Jen’s shorts and slid them down to her ankles then picked up the clothes and tossed them on the bed. That act of politeness—so unhurried in the middle of passion—caught Jen off guard, making her wonder if picking up newly shed clothes during the antipasto to sex was the product of hostess school or some other charm school. Why am I thinking? Stop thinking!
“You’re stunning,” Victoria whispered, skating her hands the length of Jen’s body as she straightened to meet Jen eye-to-eye.
“Thank you.” Jen noticed Victoria was more into eye contact than most people. She dismissed the odd feeling, reminding herself that she was overthinking everything. Standing in her satin boy-shorts and bralette, Jen was too inhibited to remove Victoria’s wrap, tank and skirt, so she continued to allow Victoria to lead. Reciprocal nudity didn’t seem to matter to Victoria anyway. She kissed a trail down Jen’s chest, swirled her tongue around Jen’s belly button, blew hot breath over the front of her satin shorts, then worked her way back up to Jen’s mouth.
Nice technique.
Victoria’s efforts had the desired effect, stirring Jen’s libido, as her thoughts about the day, her family, and Amanda—her flawed, cheating lover—faded into the background.
Jen finally pushed Victoria’s indigenous shawl over her shoulders and kissed her exposed right shoulder. Fumbling somewhat, next came the black tank overhead with some shimmying. Finally, Jen pushed Victoria’s short skirt down, bending low as she did so, so close to Victoria’s legs that she could have kissed them. Victoria stepped out of her skirt, and Jen ignored it. She wasn’t picking up Victoria’s clothes, queen of the castle or not.
On her knees, Jen lay her cheek against Victoria’s tummy before she kissed her way to Victoria’s mouth. She thought Victoria’s body seemed a bit harder—but not in a buff, muscled way—than she remembered from their last date when making out on the sofa at the lake cabin.
“The jacuze,” Victoria slurred against Jen’s mouth. She took Jen by the hand and led her into the bathroom, where the jacuzzi was properly full. Victoria turned off the faucet and, without warning, undid Jen’s bra and slid off her shorts, then did the same for herself. “Let me get in first, so I can sit behind you and give you a back massage.”
Everything was happening so fast that Jen didn’t have time to do or say anything. More importantly, she didn’t have time to think. To read her emotional meter and set boundaries, if there were to be any. To weigh the pros and cons of intimacy. She wasn’t sure what she would do differently, if anything, but she felt like a character in Victoria’s play, being whisked across the stage at a frenetic pace. All she had to do was say her scant lines and follow Victoria’s lead. “Choreographed,” was the word that kept nagging at her. How many women have taken a jacuzzi with Victoria?
Victoria climbed in and gestured to Jen to follow, which Jen dutifully did, the hot water calming her nerves and soothing her. She eased back into Victoria’s embrace and lay suspended in her arms, half-afloat in the oversized tub, allowing her discomfort to dissipate with the steam. A hint of rosemary filled the room, calming her while creating a romantic and relaxing ambiance. A small sigh escaped Jen.
“I know, right?” Victoria said over the top of Jen’s head. “Relax. I’ve gotchu.”
Following instructions, Jen sank into Victoria’s torso and lay her arms over Victoria’s legs, which were resting alongside her. Being in someone other than Amanda’s arms felt a bit foreign and stilted, but the hot liquid medium blended their bodies and softened Victoria’s touch, allaying Jen’s fears and misgivings.
Victoria slid her hands along Jen’s biceps, then massaged Jen’s shoulders and neck.
Jen closed her eyes and coached herself to go with it.
Victoria had skilled hands, applying just the right amount of pressure, but there was no mistaking her touch for that of a massage therapist. Hers was a sexual touch, her fingers caressing and tickling while working Jen’s tight muscles.
Jen moaned and sank deeper into Victoria, rolling with the sensation. “You’re very good at massage.”
<
br /> “I’m glad you like it. I’m a student of touch.”
Jen smiled at the seriousness with which Victoria laid down her line, “a student of touch,” then immediately chastised herself for being so cynical. She let the thought go, focusing on being in the moment and embracing the experience instead of analyzing it to death. The hot steam hit her face, helping to strip away her defenses.
Soon, Victoria’s hands massaged their way around to Jen’s breasts, cupping them, kneading them, covering her nipples until they hardened. Victoria gently toyed with them until a whoosh of desire filled Jen’s core. “Oh God, you’re making me crazy.”
Victoria moved Jen’s hair aside and lowered her mouth to Jen’s neck, where she devoured it with languid French kisses.
“I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you at Fireside,” Victoria said against Jen’s skin.
“Mmm,” Jen murmured, soaking up the attention. She angled her head to give Victoria more access to her exposed neck.
Victoria sucked on Jen’s collarbone as her fingers moved lower, splaying over Jen’s taught tummy. “Do you like this?”
“You know I do.”
Jen felt Victoria smile against her neck, as she massaged Jen’s left breast and moved her right hand lower to Jen’s strawberry blonde curls. Victoria skated her fingers across Jen’s pussy, getting a feel for all of her. Tantalizing her.
Jen involuntarily arched into Victoria’s hand, urging her to do more.
“I want you,” Victoria said.
“Uh-huh,” Jen replied.
“Tell me you want me too.”
Jen tried to speak, but her voice cracked
“Tell me,” Victoria said, pulling on a tuft of curls.
Jen squirmed then rasped, “I want this. You.”
As soon as Jen said the words, Victoria’s fingers dove lower, flirting with Jen’s sensitive skin, the very essence of her, and circling her vagina but not entering. Victoria’s smooth, practiced action provoked a shiver through Jen. She arched her back and turned her face to Victoria for a kiss.
Victoria captured Jen’s mouth in a devastating kiss, stirring her desire.
