by Donna Jay
The smile fell from Sarah’s face. “Shit, you’re not kidding?” Her voice exuded sympathy.
Yvonne shook her head. “I wish I was.”
Sarah reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “How about you start at the beginning?”
“I…” Cheeks on fire, she looked away. “Lately, I’ve had a low sex drive.”
“Well, that’s to be expected, you’re going through the change.”
“My period showed up Friday.”
“So you’ve probably got perimenopause.”
“I’ve got less than an hour, can we stay focused?”
“No need to be bitchy, anyone would think you’ve got your period.”
Laughing, Yvonne slapped Sarah’s shoulder. “Would you stop?”
She zipped her lips. “Sorry.”
“I figured Julie must masturbate from time to time, but walking in on her chatting up some woman while she was at it was like a stab to the chest. No matter how I try to colour it, I feel cheated.”
“Is she emotionally invested in this person or was it innocent, like, ‘yeah, baby, do it to me?’”
Heat shot up Yvonne’s neck, she glanced around feeling like everyone in the restaurant had heard. “Would you keep your voice down?”
“Oops.” Sarah lowered her voice. “You need to talk to her. All this guess work isn’t going to help.”
“I can’t, just saying it out loud sounds ridiculous; whiny, and needy. ‘Oh, honey. Are you having an affair with a woman online? Mutual masturbation marathons?’”
Sarah snorted again. She held up her hands. “I’m laughing with you, not at you. You have such a way with words. No wonder she fell in love with you.”
“You know, the one thing Rebecca and I never fought about was sex.”
Sarah screwed up her face. She’d never kept it a secret she didn’t like Yvonne’s first serious girlfriend.
“In fact,” Yvonne continued, “it was pretty much a non-issue. We were either having it or we weren’t. But with Julie it’s such an integral part of her. According to her, sex’s what bonds a couple, keeps them close.” Her stomach twisted. “I’m afraid if I can’t kick start my libido, I’m going to lose her.”
Eyeing her with compassion, Sarah spoke in hushed tones. “Why don’t you feel like sex? Is it hormones like I suspect, or, um, do you not enjoy it?”
Yvonne blushed from the tips of her ears all the way to her toes. Until that moment, she’d never had an in-depth conversation about sex with Sarah. Probably because they were on opposite sides of the fence. She didn’t want to hear about straight sex any more than Sarah wanted to hear about lesbian sex.
All that supple flesh, soft against soft, warm, wet, inviting. Her clit pulsed and hope flared, then died. She was sitting in a café for God’s sake, with her best friend, of all people, and now her body decided to wake up.
“It’s not that I don’t like it. But work can be so stressful, by the time I get home, I just want to decompress. Sex is the last thing on my mind.” She sighed, her heart heavy just from uttering the words. “Julie never gets up me about it.”
“Apparently not.” Sarah grinned.
“Would you stop it?” Yvonne couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice. “As I was saying, she never pressures me into having sex. I assumed she was just being thoughtful, but I guess she’s been taking care of her own needs…with someone else.” And there went her fragile heart again.
Sarah pinned her with a no nonsense look. “You two are good together. You need to talk to her and stop jumping to conclusions. I’m happy to listen, but I can’t tell you what to do. Not without all the facts.”
“I know.” Yvonne nodded. The problem was, she didn’t know how to raise the topic.
Chapter 3
Julie punched the last meter read in and headed for home. All day her mind had been on Yvonne. Or more specifically, what the hell had crawled up her arse. Over the years, Julie had learned when Yvonne needed time to unwind, and she was willing to give her the space she needed.
But this was different. She was distant and sullen.
Five days of brooding were enough to push the limits of a saint, and Julie had never professed to be a saint. If she didn’t broach the subject, whatever was troubling Yvonne could go on for days on end. It already had.
After having a quick shower, she pulled out the big guns.
Macaroni and cheese made from scratch wasn’t the quickest meal to prepare, but it was one of Yvonne’s favourite indulgences, and right then Julie would do anything to see her wife smiling again.
Before long, the aroma of bacon, onions, and mushrooms filled the kitchen. Once the macaroni was cooked, and the cheese sauce thickened, Julie tossed all the ingredients together, poured them into a deep casserole dish and tossed it in the oven.
She’d just finished drying the last pot when she heard the familiar rumble of Yvonne’s car. She glanced out the kitchen window. Dark grey clouds hung in the sky, but the rain had finally let up.
As soon as Yvonne stepped out of the garage, Ginger came bounding out of the bushes. Julie’s heart warmed, watching her bend down to pet him. Her business suit, navy jacket and matching skirt, accentuated her curves.
Curves Yvonne complained about but Julie couldn’t get enough of. Full breasts, curvy hips, supple thighs.
She straightened and Ginger escorted her to the door.
“Hi.” Julie cupped Yvonne’s face and pecked her on the lips. “Let me take your jacket. Dinner will be served when you’re ready.”
Suspicion swam in Yvonne’s eyes. “What’s with all the fuss? Are you leaving me?”
What a ridiculous thing to say. Laughing, Julie shook her head. “Babe, the day I leave you will be in a wooden box, and I doubt I’ll be cooking your favourite dinner right before I exit this world.”
“Oh,” Yvonne said absently as she headed for the fridge and grabbed out a tin of cat food. Ginger wove between her feet, purring loudly. “How’s my boy? You catch any birds today?” Yvonne spoke to her beloved cat in a sing-song voice.
Yeah, my day was fine, thanks for asking. Julie tried not to let her hackles go up. She would not be jealous of a cat.
Whatever bug had crawled up Yvonne’s arse had apparently refused to budge. Determined to help her dislodge it, Julie kept her smile in place.
“I made macaroni and cheese. Would you like a glass of wine to go with it?”
“Sure.” With that, Yvonne disappeared up the hallway.
“So, how was your day, Ginger?” Julie mumbled under her breath.
The cat gave her the silent treatment, and although she hadn’t expected an answer, she suddenly felt like an unwanted guest in her own home.
Five minutes later, Yvonne reappeared. She’d changed out of her work clothes into comfy slacks and a long-sleeved T-Shirt. Her face was devoid of makeup, and her wavy, auburn hair hung around her shoulders.
“You look gorgeous.” Julie wrapped her arms around Yvonne’s waist. She was stiff and cold as a board. Not physically cold, but her demeanour left a lot to be desired for.
“I look like shit. My cheeks are blotchy, and I found some grey hairs.”
“You’ll always be beautiful to me.” Julie released Yvonne from the one-sided hug and ushered her to the dining room table.
Perhaps a wine would help relax her. It didn’t.
“How was your day?” Julie asked.
“Good.”
“Anything exciting happen?”
“Secured the contract to build the new birthing centre in Heretaunga Street.”
An entire centre dedicated to new mums. Not that Julie knew what it was like to be a mother, but her friend had been sent home way too early when the hospital was short of beds, only to end up back in there with mum exhausted and baby dehydrated from not feeding properly.
“Wow, that’s cool. Don’t you think?”
“Sure, if you want to squeeze a watermelon out of your twat.”
Although it
was no secret Yvonne didn’t want children, her attitude was uncalled for.
“Wanna tell me what’s bothering you?”
“It’s nothing, and I realise that wasn’t a very nice thing to say. I just can’t imagine giving birth, let alone being puked on and raising an ungrateful brat.”
“Hey, who said our kids would’ve been ungrateful,” Julie asked.
“Do you regret we didn’t have kids?”
Frustrated, Julie lost her cool. “No, and you know that. We talked about it in length when we first met. Now cut the crap and tell me where the hell my loving, caring wife has gone. You’ve been cold toward me for over a week. Frankly, I’ve had enough.”
When Yvonne lowered her gaze, staring at the table, alarm shot through Julie. What was so bad that she couldn’t meet her eyes? Julie rounded the table and took Yvonne’s hands in her own.
“You’re scaring me. Please, look at me.” She grabbed her by the chin and forced her head up.
Ginger chose that moment to jump onto Yvonne’s lap, and Yvonne patted him absently.
Bloody great timing, big boy.
The oven timer went off, further halting their conversation. Julie’s footfalls on the linoleum floor sounded like a herd of elephants in the deafening silence.
She pulled the casserole dish out of the oven and sat it on the ceramic stove top. Dinner could wait until they’d sorted out whatever was going on.
Back at the table, she held Yvonne’s hand and tried again. “Please tell me why you’ve been so distant. I miss you.”
“I’m here,” Yvonne said softly.
“In body, yes, but not in mind.” She tapped her temple. “I’m not a mind reader, tell me what’s going on in there.”
“You honestly don’t know?” Yvonne glanced up, looking like she genuinely believed Julie should know exactly what she was talking about.
“Help me out here.”
“A week ago…”
Julie waited for her to continue.
“Friday.”
She thought back to that day. It had been pouring down, she’d gone to Ohakune to get one read and told Yvonne…
The penny dropped. “Were you offended by the story I told you about that couple? Shit, please don’t tell me you think I joined them.”
Julie had never kept it a secret she’d dated a married woman long before she met Yvonne.
“You missed a bit.”
“What?” Julie frowned, trying to keep up. “What are you talking about.”
“I came home at lunchtime.” Yvonne’s voice rose in pitch and Ginger jumped off her lap.
What a pussy.
“Yes, you did. If I recall it was a flying visit to get your pills. Is that what this is about? Are you having tummy troubles and don’t want to worry me?”
Yvonne nailed her with an accusing gaze. “Are you having an affair?”
The emotional blow rocked Julie to her core. She recoiled in her chair as surely as if she’d been slapped. “How can you even think that?”
“I saw you.”
Anger made her lash out. “How the fuck can you see me doing something I’ve never done? You’ve been walking around with a bug up your arse because of something you think you saw?”
Remaining calm, at least when it came to the tone of her voice—who knew what was going on in her head—Yvonne held Julie’s gaze. “On the bed, with your iPad.”
Even though she looked close to tears, Julie was so relieved she burst out laughing. She had been seen. She’d wondered, but not for a minute did she imagine that was what had got her wife all bent out of shape.
“You saw me masturbating. So what? You barely want sex, I need it three to four times a week. If I can’t have it with you, I’ll have it with my toys.”
“I heard you.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice.” She hated arguing with Yvonne, and the sooner they cleared the air the better.
“That’s not what I meant. You were talking to someone.”
“How could I be, I was alone.”
“On your iPad.” Tears pooled in Yvonne’s eyes, tugging at Julie’s heart. She hated seeing her wife hurting.
“Are you having an on-line affair? Please don’t lie to me.”
The penny finally dropped, and remorse flooded every fibre of Julie’s being.
Yvonne must’ve heard her talking to the mistress in the video clip. She’d always fantasised about being told what to do, so she pretended she was while watching a kinky D/s scene.
“Oh, Vonn. I’m so sorry.”
Yvonne stiffened in her arms.
“Relax. I’m not apologising for having an affair, I’d never cheat on you.”
“But you were talking to someone.” Her voice was muffled by Julie’s shirt. “You called her Mistress.”
Julie continued to stroke her hair. “I was watching a video. The woman couldn’t hear a word I was saying. She’s no one to me. I couldn’t even tell you her name.”
Tiny tremors vibrated against Julie as Yvonne finally let go, gut-wrenching sobs racking her body.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t talk to me sooner.” But she wasn’t entirely surprised, either. Yvonne was the last person to talk about sex, whereas Julie could talk about it until the cows came home.
Still, the accusation stung. “And I’m sorry you ever doubted me.”
Sniffling, Yvonne pulled out of her arms. “I’m sorry for doubting you. I guess I’m projecting my own fears.”
Unsure what she meant, Julie waited for her to continue.
“My sex drive has been nearly non-existent. I’m terrified if I don’t find it, I’ll lose you.”
Never!
“We’ve been together twenty years, and they have been the happiest years of my life. When I put a ring on your finger, five years ago, I meant every word I said. I promise to be true to you and to support you for the rest of my days.” She nudged her shoulder. “You’re stuck with me, my toys, and my self-love.”
A snort huffed out of Yvonne.
“Better.” Julie cupped her cheek. “Feel like eating?”
“It’s probably cold by now.”
“That’s why microwaves were invented.”
“Okay, sure, I could eat.”
After dishing up dinner, they sat opposite each other, playing footsie. Ginger made a miraculous reappearance having smelled food.
The combination of pasta, cheese, bacon, mushrooms, and onion was heavenly.
Yvonne finished her mouthful and moaned her appreciation. Her moan sounded orgasmic but Julie figured it wasn’t a good time to say as much. Perhaps she could introduce food play.
Down girl!
“Do you need any more reassurance?” Julie asked, hating that her wife felt insecure.
“I suppose I don’t get it.”
“Get what?” Julie took a sip of wine, letting some of the tension drain from her shoulders.
“Why you like watching porn. It’s not even realistic.”
The answer came without thought. “Of course it’s not. It’s a movie. It’s no more realistic than the shoot ‘em up I can dodge bullets movies you can’t get enough of.”
Yvonne rested her elbows on the table. “That’s different.”
“How so? They are both made to titillate.”
“I disagree. Action movies can be discussed with friends. You can’t go around asking them if they watched Debbie does Dallas.”
Unable to suppress a laugh, wine fizzed up the back of Julie’s nose.
Yvonne huffed. “Fine, laugh at me.”
“I’m not laughing at you. But wow, if that’s the last porn movie you watched…”
“I didn’t watch it, my father had it.”
“Ah-ha. And your mother never watched it?”
“No!” She sounded appalled by the idea. “That’s something guys do.”
Amused, Julie cocked an eyebrow.
Yvonne’s lips twitched. “And you.”
“And plenty of other peo
ple. I’m just not in the closet about it.”
Understanding flashed in Yvonne’s eyes. “And they’re in the closet because of fear of judgement.”
“That, and because you’re quite right. You can’t exactly go around discussing what porn you’re watching with your friends.” A thought slammed into Julie. Always taking the path of being straight up, she went for it. “But we could discuss them.”
Julie counted to three and Yvonne didn’t disappoint.
“You want me to watch porn with you?”
“Why not? It might ignite something inside you. Lesbian porn’s not what it used to be.”
“And what’s that?” Yvonne asked.
The fact that she had her wife’s attention was encouraging. “Made to titillate men. Totally unrealistic scissoring scenes.”
“Oh, so scissoring doesn’t turn you on?”
“Only when you’re on the other end of a double-ended dildo.”
Yvonne’s cheeks turned pink. She pushed her empty plate away and took a sip of wine.
“What I’m saying is talking about it, imagining different scenarios, gets the juices flowing. If we were to do that together, imagine the possibilities?”
“I’ll think about it.”
That was more than Julie could hope for, so she let the topic drop.
Chapter 4
Feeling immensely relieved, and a little chagrined for thinking for even a minute that Julie might be cheating, albeit emotionally, Yvonne climbed into bed and snuggled up to her wife. “I’ve missed this.” She burrowed into her side, absorbing her heat and inhaling her shower fresh scent.
“Me too.” Julie massaged Yvonne’s scalp, just how she liked it.
Sighing with contentment, Yvonne drew circles around Julie’s bellybutton with her finger. “I don’t know how you can sleep with no clothes on.” Even with all the doors and windows locked, being naked made Yvonne feel vulnerable.
“I like the feel of your body against mine.”
“And what about when you’re doing housework?” Yvonne nudged her in the side.
On more than one occasion she’d arrived home to the sight of Julie vacuuming in the buff. Music blaring, hips swaying.
“What if someone came to the door…like a meter reader?”
