by Rizer, Bibi
Oh my god, he writes, at last.
Oh.
My.
GOD.
It’s you.
That makes me smile. I can picture his dumbstruck, pretty face so clearly, it’s like he’s right next to me.
Yep. It’s me, I write.
Favetrne?
What does that mean?
Faswtine/
FUCK!
F.A.C.E.T.I.M.E.?
Then he gives me his email. And his cell phone number. I punch the letters in with shaking hands. The screen pops up and hangs for a few seconds, telling me it’s “connecting”.
And then, there he is.
Chapter Thirteen – Levi
“Wow,” is the only word that comes to me. She looks just the way I remember her – dark hair falling into her smudgy eyes, beautiful creamy skin, lovely inviting smile. “You…you are a sight for sore eyes.”
She laughs, putting her hand on her cheek. “You, too. You let your hair grow.”
I run my fingers through the mop of curls on my head. “Yeah, that’s…laziness mostly.”
We smile at each other for a couple of seconds.
“How are you anyway?” she says. “How’s your hand?”
I flex it in front of the web cam lens. “Good as new. Better, in fact, because I set off metal detectors now.”
“Nice.” She brushes her hair off her shoulders and I see that she’s wearing her kimono, the one with the lilies. “You know, I tried to find out about you from the hospital and everything, but they wouldn’t give me any information.”
“Really?” I asked about fifty nurses if they’d seen her before Mom finally dragged me onto the medivac flight. None of them would tell me anything. “That’s funny because I called Objections a couple of days later and got pretty much the same answer.”
“Oh, yeah. They never give out girls’ names. It makes sense, I guess. I kind of wish they had, though.”
“Yeah. Me too.” And then I’m grinning again and probably looking really stupid. I run my hands over my face to try to hide it. “What about you? How have you been?”
She looks away from the screen, in the direction of a light shining on her face. “Not that good,” she says before turning back to face me. “My dad died a month ago.”
“Oh, no. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
She shrugs, looking down. I actually reach for the screen, as though I could touch her, give her a hug.
“What happened?” I ask. “I mean if you don’t want to talk about it…”
“No. It’s fine. He…someone left his window open at the home and he climbed out at night. We didn’t know where he was for two days. I guess he was on a bender. Then he…” She takes a deep breath. “He got hit by a car.”
“Oh, Charlotte.” Anything I say will be insufficient, but I try anyway. “That’s awful. That must have been awful.”
She changes position, moving back from her camera, and I see that she is lying on her bed. Her kimono falls open a bit, revealing the top of a lacy bra. How can I avert my eyes when it takes up a quarter of my screen? I focus on looking into the camera lens.
“It was pretty awful,” she says. “But one of my regulars at the club is a real ambulance chaser, so he drew up a kind of lawsuit thing against the care home. And they didn’t want any trouble, so they settled.”
“Friends in low places, huh?”
That makes her laugh. “Right? It didn’t end up being much after he took his cut, but I paid off my car, and my student loan. So, you know, silver lining.”
“Are you still working at the club?” I don’t know why I asked that. I guess I figured with her money problems solved, she wouldn’t need to. And of course I really don’t want her having to do that. I know she doesn’t like it. “Never mind. That’s not my business.”
“It’s okay. I’m not working there anymore. In fact, I quit tonight.” In a voice barely above a whisper, she tells me about her creepy new boss and how he basically tried to coerce her into having sex with him. I’m suppressing the urge to punch something by the time she finishes.
“Good riddance,” she says. “I don’t need that shit in my life. Are you still in school?”
I wonder how much detail to give her. Probably the bare minimum at this stage. “Well, spring semester was a total write-off because of my hand and all the time I missed. And it’s summer now and I didn’t want to take any courses, so I’m just working, and thinking.”
“Thinking? What are you thinking about?”
“Life. The future.” I decide to dive in with both feet. It’s unlike me, but I think that’s what Charlotte inspires. “You. I’ve been thinking about you.”
Her blue eyes light up. I thought she might think that was weird, but she seems to approve. “I’ve been thinking about you, too. I didn’t know how to find you. Then tonight, for some reason, I remembered your last name.”
“Why tonight, do you think?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the universe just wanted to give me a small break.”
She changes position again, and this time I can see that she opens the kimono a bit more on purpose. She lowers her head and looks into the camera through her long eyelashes. “So when you think of me, Levi Borovski, what do you do?”
That makes me get hard so fast I actually get a shooting pain in my balls. I can’t answer her question. I just laugh nervously.
“Tell the truth now, boy. Do you take a little nap? Or a shower?”
“Oh my god, you’re terrible.”
“You love it, though.”
I move my laptop out of my lap and onto the bed beside me. Then I lie down on my side, facing the screen like she is. It’s almost as though we’re lying next to each other.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Levi?” she asks, as I get comfortable.
“No. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.” She pulls one shoulder of the kimono off, revealing a black lace bra underneath.
“Charlotte, I…”
“Oh, stop being so damn uptight, Levi. I quit my job before my shift today, so I’ve got four hours of exhibitionism all pent up inside. Do you want a show, or not?”
“Jesus. Yes. Okay.” I’m glad I got into the habit of locking my bedroom door when I come home for the weekend. The last thing I need is Mom to walk in on me fapping to a live web show, even if it is a girl I know.
Charlotte adjusts her screen so the camera is pointing upwards a bit. Then she turns a lamp to light her up as she stands by the bed. I can only watch in rapt adoration as she slowly lets the kimono slip to the floor.
Holy living fuck. She’s beautiful. Unlike the outfit she had on that night at the club, which was more cute than sexy, what she’s wearing now is so sexy, it’s almost nasty. In a good way. A flimsy black bra that lets her plump round breasts move and wiggle with all their natural gravity. A very low-cut, black garter thingy that is so sheer, I can see the tiny panties underneath. She lets me feast my eyes on this for a few seconds before turning, teasingly slow.
“Oh, sweet, holy…”
The panties are a skimpy thong. Her glorious ass sways in front of me, the line of the black stockings presenting it like a trophy. Then she looks back at me with a cheeky smile and bends over until her face appears between her knees. She winks at me.
While I’m processing that, she turns and comes closer to the camera, so close that I can see the line of her pussy through the sheer panties. Then she kneels so just her face and tits are above the edge of the bed.
“How you doin?” she says.
“I’m doing great. How you doin?”
This girl is a revelation. Somehow, just because she told me to, I’ve let all my inhibitions fade into nothing. And I’m not thinking of all the bad stuff that’s been obsessing me since I started researching that article. I’m not connecting Charlotte to the sex business, which is weird because up until earlier today, she actually was in the sex business. But all of that disappears in the presence of
her lovely smile, her sparkling eyes.
“I’m just fine and dandy, honey,” she says. “Are you touching yourself?”
I laugh nervously. “I’m not, but I will if you want me to.”
“Oh, I want it.” She tugs one side of her bra down and swirls her finger around her perky pink nipple.
I don’t waste any more time. My hand is down my boxers and around my cock in a second. I could probably blow in another twelve seconds, but I really don’t want to, so I start slow, just gently stroking the skin. “Do you want to see?” I say.
“I want to see your face.” She pulls the other side of her bra down and pinches the nipple there. “I want to see your face when you come just from looking at me.”
God. She’s not going to have to wait long. “What about you?” I ask. “What’s going to make you come?”
She slides one finger into her pouty mouth, closing her lips around it and sucking. Then she pulls it out all glistening and wet and reaches down out of sight. “Wanna see?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I want to see your face, too.”
We stop talking, relying on the sounds of our breathing and the hunger in our eyes to speak for us. I grip my cock with more force, sending jolts of pleasure across my skin. I want to close my eyes and bliss out, but I don’t want to miss a second of the growing ecstasy on Charlotte’s face. Her mouth opens, and I imagine sliding in there, her soft lips clamped around me.
That thought is enough to send me over the edge. I manage to keep the noise down to a soft moan, but I’m sure I’m making the most obvious come-face ever. Charlotte keeps her eyes on me as it subsides. And I watch her, watch it build in her as her head falls backwards, her eyes close, and she whimpers like a kitten.
“Ah, yes…” Her shoulders convulse, and she lays her head on the bed, gasping.
I just watch. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Levi?” she says after a moment. “I wish you didn’t live so far away.”
“Yeah? Why?”
“Cause I’m tired and lonely, and I wish you could sleep curled up around me.”
God. This girl. This girl is everything.
“What time is it there?” I ask. It’s just past eight PM here.
“Just after ten. I’m not usually tired at this time of day. I guess you wore me out.”
She stands, slipping her kimono on and wrapping herself in it. Pushing her laptop back, she lies down beside it and rests her head on the pile of pillows. She does look tired, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to watch her fall asleep, but if I don’t clean myself up, my boxers will be permanently glued to my balls.
“Levi?” she says sleepily. “Do you remember what you said just before that Russian dude busted in and nearly killed you?”
Do I remember? Since I thought they might be my last words on Earth I chose them pretty carefully. Of course I remember.
“I really like you, Charlotte.”
“I really like you, too, Levi.”
“I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
Then we both laugh, maybe at the thought that we’ve just acted out a porn movie and a cheesy romance in the space of five minutes.
“I have to go…uh…clean up.”
She makes a face and closes her eyes. “Okay. I’m just going to stay here.” She says it as though her coming and taking a bath with me was an option.
I get up and move out of sight before I strip off my track pants and boxers. I wrap myself in a crumpled towel and head out to the bathroom for a little tidy up. When I get back to my room, I lock the door, pull on some clean boxers, and climb back into the bed. Charlotte is still on the screen, breathing deeply. Fast asleep. She looks just precious. And I get that weird feeling again, like I’ve known her forever, like a future with her is as familiar to me as my past without her. I look at her sleeping face and sigh to the cold empty room around me, wishing I could sleep curled into her back. I’d like to sleep against her back every day for a year and see how that goes. But maybe watching her sleep is a little creepy. I close the Facetime window and type a note into Messenger.
Sleep tight. Let’s talk tomorrow.
And then, because I figure I have nothing to lose…
Love, Levi.
Chapter Fourteen – Charlotte.
I wake up to a blank computer screen and someone on an obnoxiously loud motorbike careening past my house. I press a key and the computer comes to life. The clock reads nine-thirty AM. I slept for nearly twelve hours! That’s incredible. Maybe all the sleep I’ve lost over the past month finally caught up with me.
For a second, as my finger hovers over the Facebook icon, I worry that talking to Levi last night might have been a dream. But my poor, overtired mind wouldn’t do that to me, would it?
I click. Facebook pops up, the message window open.
Sleep tight. Let’s talk tomorrow.
Love, Levi.
That’s about the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.
Okay, I type. I slept like a baby.
I don’t expect him to answer. He’s probably gone to work, or the gym, or something responsible people do in the morning. I look down on my body. Responsible people don’t sleep in a garter and stockings, for example. I’m up and on my way to the bathroom to shower and begin my new life when my laptop beeps.
I have a surprise for you.
You do? I type. :-) What is it?
If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise. I need your address though.
Aw, he’s going to send me something? Like a letter or a card? That’s so old-fashioned and cute. I type in my address. Maybe that’s a bit reckless, but what can I say? It’s early. I need coffee. Coffee first. Then shower.
I head down to the kitchen, thankful that coffee is one of the groceries I have managed to keep in the house. The milk situation is less promising, but after a thorough search, I find some chocolate-flavored, powdered creamer that I must have bought when I was premenstrual. It does the trick. I sit at my little painted table, and the caffeine works its magic.
The way I figure it, I’ve got some decisions to make, some plans to lay out. After paying off my student loans and car, I have a few thousand dollars left, enough to last me a month or two if I’m frugal. So I need a job, obviously, and I need to decide if I want to go ahead and get more into debt to finish school, or if I should work until I have enough to pay for it upfront.
I could find another club to dance at – there are a couple in town that I hear are still decent – and probably earn enough money to go back to school part time. Now that I don’t have all dad’s expenses, it won’t be so tough to make ends meet. Heck, if I find the right club, I could live like a queen. I add up a few numbers in my head. Let’s say eight hundred a week, times four…that’s over three thousand a month. A thousand for rent. Another five hundred for bills and food. Still need to keep myself groomed if I’m going to dance, so about fifty for nails and waxing. Maybe a hundred for clothes and lingerie. That still leaves nearly fifteen hundred a month. Enough to pay for one course. I could save enough to graduate in a year.
Okay, maybe not like a queen exactly. Maybe more like a hardworking girl with ambition.
I slurp back the last of my coffee and look out at the neighbor’s cat skulking along their roof.
Do I really want to dance for another year? Do I really want to go looking for another club that is busy enough to make the dollars, but not so creepy that I catch some disease? I look at my fingernails – French manicure with sparkly pink tips. It doesn’t seem like that long ago I was scraping wood glue out of my nails with a screwdriver in shop class. Not sure how I got from there to here. I never thought I’d turn out to be such a girl.
I’m pondering all the steps it took to go from tomboy to boy toy when the doorbell rings. And stupidly, I get all excited. Maybe Levi sent me flowers! How cute would that be? No one has ever sent me flowers before.
I run down the hall, not
worrying that I’m still wearing my kimono over stockings and lingerie. Let’s give the delivery boy a thrill – no one has to know.
I unlock the bolt, the deadbolts and the mainly decorative hook, and throw the door open.
Then I scream. And after that I start to cry.
Because Levi is standing there.
“Okay, wow. I’m sorry…” he says through the screen door. “I didn’t mean to…maybe I’ll just…”
“Oh my God, shut up. Shut up and get in here!”
I shove the screen door so hard I nearly knock him off the porch. Then I grab him by his shirt and drag him inside, slamming the door behind him.
He drops a small bag and we stare at each other for half a second before a kind of frenzy takes over and he’s carrying me suddenly down the hall, pushing through the door into Dusty’s room, which is completely empty.
He takes his mouth off mine long enough to ask, “Don’t you have a bed?”
“Next room,” I say into his mouth. I breathe him in, my fingers tightly wound into this wonderful new head of thick curls he has.
He backs out into the hallway and turns into my room where we fall onto the bed, narrowly avoiding crushing my laptop in the process.
“What are you doing here?”
He just kisses me, letting his lips and hands do the talking. My legs wrap around him, pressing our bodies together. His erection digs into me.
“I thought you didn’t like guns,” I say, shoving him beside me so I can undo his belt and pants.
“I’m just happy to see you.”
He pulls my kimono open and tears down my triangle bra, cupping my breasts in his hot hands. “God, why are you still wearing this? I’ve had a boner for twelve hours just thinking about it.”
“You need to seek medical assistance.”
He slides his hand into my panties. “You’re my medical assistance.” One finger slips down and glides into me and back out to rub my wetness over my clit.
I bite down on his lower lip and tear at his buttons and zipper. Finally, my hand finds its way around his cock. I grip it firmly, not sure I’ll ever actually let go.
Somehow, being connected like this—fingers to sex—calms the frenzy a bit. Our kisses become tender and searching as our fingers move possessively.
