“I’m not going to wait around forever. I’m getting really lonely here.”
We rarely drove in together because of scheduling differences and that night I knew she’d get home before me. The temperature in the house was cold and unwelcoming. I lit the fireplace in the living room. It didn’t help. I turned on the TV and plopped myself on the couch, not watching anything in particular.
When Lizette spotted me in front of the TV for the millionth time, she sighed loudly and announced, “I’m going out.”
“I’ll go with you,” I said.
“Don’t bother. You need your strength.” Her sarcasm cut through my heart. I wanted to gather her up and beg for forgiveness. I longed to show her that I missed her more each day. I missed us. We were becoming more like co-habitants than lovers. She slid further from my reach. But instead of stating my fears, apologizing for mistrusting her, and clearing the air, I acted like a bigger pig-headed fool. “Fine. Go.”
I heard the door slam. It sent a slight tremor through the house and packed a punch that landed in my stomach. I went over to the fireplace and smothered the flames. One hour became two and still no sign of Lizette.
I called her cell several times, but didn’t leave messages. My number would show up anyway. I took a hot shower and still shivered. While the hot water ran over my chilled skin, I made a resolve to get out of my pity pool and do something to win my sweetheart back.
I made my way over to a sex shop. What better way out of our slump then to buy a new toy? We had never needed toys before, but maybe this would help. My Honelia’s luster had all but gone out and I was going to do anything to restore her glow.
I arrived home before Lizette did. There was no time to waste and I busied myself setting the perfect environment. I converted the bedroom into a brothel, replaced the yellow lights with red bulbs, lit sensuous candles all around, tuned into love songs on the TV, and set her favorite chocolate truffles on her pillow. I rested an ice bucket of wine and two glasses on the nightstand. As a final touch, I changed the flannel to our finest silk-like sheets, turned down the comforter, stripped, and lie in wait, naked. I had no idea when she’d be back and all the preparations had sparked my own fire, so I jumped up, cleaned what I hoped would be our savior, unwrapped the fancy new lube, and with brand new batteries, I couldn’t help but try it out. Why not? I had to make sure it worked.
The sleek black wand with the diamond studs at the top was fucking unbelievable. I held my pussy open with one hand and inserted the toy slowly in and out. My clit hardened. There was only so long that I could hold off and as I was about to place the vibrator on the long-neglected nerve endings that screamed out for release, the bedroom door handle banged into the wall and a shout broke my concentration.
“What are you doing?” Lizette was angrier than I’d ever seen her. Or maybe she was masking her hurt behind being pissed off. “How dare you do this without me?”
“Huh?” I was dumfounded. Didn’t she threaten to come without me all the time?
“And with a fucking vibrator!”
“I bought it for us.”
“If you keep using that thing, then we’re through.” She huffed out of the room and I ran after her.
“Lizette, honey, wait, please.” I was beyond desperate. Skip bravado. I had everything to lose here.
“You haven’t touched me in weeks and I come home to find you fucking a toy? How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way. I was just trying to get us back on track. I’m sorry, baby, believe me. I love you more than any old dildo—”
“Great! That’s reassuring!”
“You know what I mean. I want to make love to you. I love you more than anything or anyone in the world.”
I took her trembling body in my arms and smoothed the waves of her hair. “I was so afraid of losing you, of not being studly enough for you, of falling asleep because I was so damn tired worrying that you’d leave me for a younger model…and now I’ve fucked us up anyway.” I kissed her lips, now salty with her tears.
“How could you think that I’d ever leave my Studly? Or trade her in? I love you – you numbskull. How many times and ways do I have to show and tell you?”
This time it was my turn to get choked up. Lizette was my life. Until that moment, I had no idea how very precious she was to me in a way that went far beyond sex. Not that I was knocking sex, but she was the one I wanted to grow old with, the first person I saw when I awoke and the last person I kissed goodnight. It was a cliché, but we were both ready for our happily ever after.
“Love me, Studly.”
“With pleasure.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, I made wild and passionate love to my very best girl. We laughed over how jealous she got over a stupid vibrating dildo and decided to give it a whirl.
I doused the tip with lube and handed it to her to try first. I wasn’t going to press my luck.
She went straight for her clit and moaned the moment it made contact. “Oh my God, but this is amazing.” Her shine came back better than ever. Her pussy glistened and brightened under the hum. I wanted to touch her, but she elbowed me away. I watched as she taunted and teased her shrine until I was sure her clit was about ready to burst.
“Let me have that thing,” I demanded, never good at waiting.
Her breathing became shallow. All her energy centered on her clit making her pussy redder and wetter than I’d seen it in a long time. “I’ll buy it from you,” she said.
“It’s mine,” I replied.
“Fuck off,” she said, and l cracked up. Hornelia was always full of surprises.
“I thought you didn’t like toys.”
“Shhh, ohhh, Studly, ohhhhhh, God yeah, fuck me…” My girl sang her sexy song, her hips bucked in time to her screams as she got closer. She was going to come with a dildo and I’d be damned if I didn’t get there first. I took the fucking thing out of her hand, no easy feat I swear, but I knew what had to be done even better than she knew what to do.
“It’s my turn.” I fucked her with the wand while sucking on her clit. When I eased it out of her cunt, I was met with more cries, more begging, more pleading, and my clit begged as well. As gently as I could, I placed the tip on the underside of her clit and slowly, I moved it to her need.
Lizette soaked the sheets clear through to the mattress.
We didn’t sleep a wink that night nor the following day, and I wasn’t the least bit tired. I didn’t say a word as my girl pocketed the toy when she didn’t think I was looking. It turns out that keeping up with Hornelia was my greatest challenge and my profoundest joy. Even after all these years.
Me, Too
Trixie Wells is a bright graduate student with a chip on her shoulder. She speaks her mind, often butting heads with authority, but she’s not as honest in matters of the heart. Although she tries not to let Lisa get under her skin, she can’t deny her intense feelings for the woman who melts her hardened heart.
Patricia ‘Trixie’ Wells was doomed. How could a free-spirited, commitment-phobic, playgirl succumb to falling deeply, passionately, and madly in love with her roommate? She barely had time for a date, let alone a love affair, At least that’s what the graduate student told herself, but that didn’t stop her from fantasizing about Lisa until she thought she’d go insane. When reasoning didn’t work, she took the edge off with her impressive assortment of vibrators and dildos. In spite of her reputation as a woman’s erotic dream come true, Trixie was anything but a slut. Sure, she was promiscuous at times, but according to Trixie Wells’ first law of relationships; safe, consensual sex was for fun, not for future. She had no trouble satisfying a woman, but she was saving her true self for “the one.” However, she had an image to uphold, and she’d sooner kiss the department head’s ass than give up her MO by disclosing her little secret or admitting that she feared Lisa wouldn’t be interested in a cocky butch who spoke tough, who rode her bike with wild abandon, and who drank
like a damn fish.
Between class and teaching the recitation before chemistry lab, Trixie joined her housemates who vegged out on the second-hand couch in their communal living room. They grabbed a quick snack while they heatedly debated departmental politics, amidst bargain basement furniture. By the time the others left, Lisa looked like she was about to pop an artery.
“You really need to put a leash around your temper, Trixie,” Lisa said. “We might let you slide, but one of these days your defiance and colorful language are going to get you kicked out of the program.”
“And you’re going to wear out the rug if you don’t quit pacing,” Trixie retorted.
“Never mind the rug. I don’t know how why your mother didn’t wash your mouth out with soap.”
“Slapping was more her speed. Besides, most of the time she was too wasted to give a shit, that is, before she took off for good.”
Lisa’s face crumbled. Trixie wanted to kick herself for bringing it up. She felt bad enough because Lisa and a few other students had witnessed her outburst the day she had totally lost it with the chairman of the chemistry department. And it hadn’t been pretty, nor had it been a smart move. Visions of his slimy face made Trixie want to ram her fist through the nearest wall, wishing she could slam his head instead.
“He’s a fucking asshole, and you goddamn know it!” Trixie shouted, louder than she intended.
“There you go again! Geeze, can’t you even try not to swear so much? You can’t go showing the department head up regardless. Especially when you already have two strikes against you. It’s no secret that he’s a certified male chauvinist homophobic pig.”
“He’s a prick,” Trixie muttered under her breath.
“Then don’t stoop to his level,” Lisa continued, “Beat him at his own game. Now, march over there and apologize before it’s too late. You know he’s a softie when it comes to brown noses and bimbos.”
Trixie’s eyes burned.
“You look positively ferocious—”
Trixie grunted.
“And showing some leg wouldn’t hurt.”
There was no fucking way Trixie would don a skirt for anyone, ever. She started to protest, but Lisa beat her to the punch.
“Imagine Patricia Charlotte Wells in a skirt! A person could just die laughing.” Lisa was minimally successful at trying to catch her breath. Tears streaked her cheeks.
“I never should have told you my full name.” Trixie combed her fingers roughly through her short hair and hit a snag, pulling out a chestnut strand that caught in her ring. She knew Lisa was right, but hated like hell to give in. She needed to complete the graduate program with aspirations of a doctorate, and this asshole could make life difficult for her.
Lisa glanced at her watch. “Oops, I have a meeting with my advisor, and her office is clear across campus. Catch you later, Trixie.” She slung her computer bag over her shoulder and called out, “Do the right thing,” before she was gone.
Trixie’s anger subsided slightly as she watched her roommate leave. It was hard to stay mad at Lisa. The woman just melted her heart, but her idea about wearing a skirt, even in jest, was intolerable. Remembering Lisa in a fit of giggles sent shivers down her spine, but that didn’t excuse what Lisa wanted her to do, namely apologize to the bastard.
She couldn’t believe Lisa was sticking up for him. Not only was he insufferable, but he had this big-boobed, huge-haired bimbo assistant, who walked around the Grad Chem building in stilettos, for chrissake.
Almost forgetting about the professor, Trixie thought about how the curvaceous blonde had men and quite a few women chomping at the bit. She’d be damned if she’d drool in her wake. Not that there was evidence, but Trix would wager her meager funds that the woman got the assistant position by sleeping with the creep. Trixie found it easier to think of her as a slut then to let hot, wicked fantasies run wild. It was hard enough to ignore how heels made the assistant’s long shapely legs look more appetizing, but when they drove admirers to distraction it was a miracle there weren’t more casualties as people walked into brick walls.
Inexplicably, the attractive woman grated on Trixie’s nerves, more than she cared to admit. Was it because the assistant was sexy or because Trixie couldn’t concentrate on her work when she was around? Whatever it was, Trixie had enough on her mind trying to ignore her lust for Lisa to be thinking about this bimbo too. Maybe she just needed to get laid.
At the beginning of the semester, Trixie had almost broken her nose the first time she’d seen the nearly six-foot blonde in a teeny-tight red sweater with a scoop neck collar and a leather mini skirt that had left little to the imagination. She had turned to look and rammed her face into the corner of a wall, catching her nose in the process. It had smarted like a son-of-a-bitch, but even with tears in her eyes, she could not miss the assistant’s killer ass at the top of the stark white version of Tina Turner legs. Didn’t the girl have any shame? What, was she too poor to own a pair of pantyhose?
Trixie had wiped her tears with her leather sleeve, making a mess of her face and getting blood on her jacket. Fuck! She had headed to the nearest ladies room with her head tilted up to avoid splattering blood all over the floor. She’d pinched her nose with one hand and angrily pushed the door open with her other palm, causing the door to slam into the wall. Muttering obscenities under her breath, she had grabbed some paper towels to put under the faucet, which only ran when the lever was held down. Despite the inconvenience, she’d managed to clean up the mess—leather was great that way. The moment she had spotted the bimbette assistant out of the corner of her eye, the bold blonde had walked right up to the row of sinks where she stood. Pretending not to notice she had company, Trixie examined her face in the mirror and felt lucky her nose didn’t appear to be broken, although it was beginning to swell and a shiner or two would surely follow. She could still feel her heated face as she doused it with cold water, hoping to bring down the puffiness already evident beneath her eyes.
“Do you need some help?” the assistant asked with a voice that had purred sweeter than a kitten dipped in powdered sugar.
“Huh?” Trixie had whipped her head around, but just as quickly turned away, trying to hide the blush that had worked its way up from her chest, not to mention eyes that had watered beyond her control. When she looked back toward the mirror, wishing this femme with the big tits would worry somewhere else, she couldn’t help thinking that after all, it was her fault that Trixie was dripping red clots mixed with snot into the once pristine ceramic sink. On second thought, a broken nose would make Trixie look tough, and she was sure to get some extra TLC from Lisa when she got home. So, maybe she owed the woman a debt of gratitude instead.
“You walked into a wall, remember?”
“Oh, yeah, that,” she shrugged. A swollen nose, even if it resulted in two black eyes, was nothing compared to having the shit beat out of her on numerous occasions during her street urchin days. “No big deal.”
“It might be broken. Let me see.”
The woman had tried to turn Trixie to face her, but Trixie had roughly blocked the caring arm and snapped, “I’m fine. Leave it.”
With a faintly wounded pride, the blonde had retreated out of the restroom. Trixie watched the wiggle of the miffed woman’s ass as she left, and groaned.
Why was she always so blunt? Hadn’t she gotten her high school equivalency diploma, and even managed to procure a full scholarship for undergrad and grad school, proving that she had brains beneath the brawn? Even so, Trixie had a hard time with tact and accepting help of any kind. Yeah, Patricia Charlotte Wells did everything on her own, for herself, and by herself. Period. Still, she begrudgingly made an appointment with the dumbass chairman.
Several days later, Trixie arrived early for her dreaded appointment. She sat on a couch facing the assistant’s desk. The blonde was still a bimbo. Trixie was anxious to get the meeting over with, and it didn’t help that she felt like she was under the watchful gaze of the
bodacious blonde. She admonished herself for the stirring in her pants and shifted in her seat to relieve some of the pressure. She hadn’t forgotten about her attraction to Lisa…it was just that a woman needed a release sometimes, and it had been far too long. She could have fucked the table lamp at that moment.
“I remember you. You hurt your nose,” the assistant said. “Was it broken?” She searched Trixie’s face for battle wounds, and smiled warmly. “It doesn’t look like you had any lasting effects, except for a slight bump, which gives you character.”
Trixie mumbled, “No, just bruised,” and reflexively ran her hand over the still tender spot on the bridge of her nose. Not expecting anything remotely resembling a compliment, and totally caught off guard, as she had difficulty accepting niceties, Trixie blatantly noticed the skin-tight excuse for a dress the nubile woman wore.
Soft blonde tresses framed the woman’s face, accentuating high cheekbones, ruby red lips, and deep blue eyes with eyelashes a blind man could see. She must have used an entire tube of Maybelline. Trixie swallowed, trying hard not to drool as those eyelashes fluttered innocently.
“I give you credit for going in there,” the assistant said, in a hushed tone. “If I were you, I’d keep it short, sweet and to the point. And whatever you do, just nod and agree with everything he says.”
Trixie nodded thanks. It was goddamned torture, and she was about ready to get up and leave when the chairman walked out and brusquely waved her into his office.
The blonde mouthed, “Good luck,” and crossed her fingers where her boss was unlikely to see. Trixie was stunned and truly sorry for her malicious thoughts regarding the woman and wished she had caught her name.
After the humiliating apology, Trixie was infuriated for backing down, especially when she knew she was right.
Attractions of the Heart Page 16
