From Whence The Lily Blooms

Elizabeth and Lily were what they called 'school chums.' They had become fast friends in a year when most of their classes were together and they stayed reasonably close through the rest of their university years. Post graduation meant a different life, as it usually does, and they saw less of each other but stayed close. If one noticed a couple of months had gone by without contact she would send an email. They would try to arrange to get together and sometimes they would or sometimes the scheduling would be too complicated and this minor social matter would fall by the wayside. Still, they considered each other 'best friends' in a non exclusive way wherein they each had three or four other best friends.

They were good enough friends that Elizabeth knew she had better have a damn good excuse if she wasn't going to show up for Lily's first real paying gig. Lily's email to her said that the manager had told her she was required to bring at least eight audience members herself. This seemed cheap and petty to Elizabeth, but what did she know about the music industry and the trials and tribulations of the struggling singer-songwriter? Elizabeth was an administrative assistant at a public relations agency. She made a nice salary and there was room for upward mobility. What else could she want from life?

A boyfriend perhaps. Boyfriends were something Lily liked to talk about. Her current one, her ex one, her lack of one, no matter her relationship status there was always something to bitch about. In these conversations Elizabeth made sympathetic comments that she hoped came across as empathetic.

Not that Elizabeth didn't date. She dated. She just didn't date the same way Lily did. Lily met a man through one means or another—mutual friends, the music circuit, Lavalife, the grocery store—and went on a series of dates with him, at some point sleeping with him, at some point making him her boyfriend, sometimes moving in with him, and on and on until the whole thing fell apart. Elizabeth chose not to do it that way.

Elizabeth also met men a variety of ways. When she met a man she wanted to date she asked him for his phone number. She did not give him hers. She called him and they went out on a date. They fucked, she went home, tore up his number and forgot about him. She liked it better this way.

Even thought she didn't think Lily would understand didn't mean she didn't feel theirs was a real friendship. They had a connection and had other things in common. Elizabeth had nothing but support and good will towards Lily. So she dutifully showed up at Rocco's House of Rock on that early April Saturday night with her wallet filled with enough cash for cover and quite a bit of libation.

"Eliza-liza-liza-beth!" She heard the loud squeal with relief as she walked through the door. At least she wasn't going to have to wander through the too close for comfort crowd looking for the one person she knew. Lily came rushing towards her, bursting from the depth of a group of people who seemed to be her entourage. One of them, a lanky faux hawked alpha male type, seemed a likely suspect to be Lily's newest romantic interest. If Elizabeth recalled their last email exchange correctly his name was Marcus and he was a visual artist—which she supposed meant 'painter'—and he worked at the deli counter of a fine foods store in the northern—which meant 'wealthy'—part of the city.

"Lily, hi!" She couldn't think of what else to say. It was OK she didn't need to say anything else. Lily was obviously on a nervous high.

"Elizabeth, I'm so glad you're here! We're going to have so much fun, we need to get you a drink! Oh no, where are my manners—wait, did I ever have any?—you need to meet everyone. Or rather, everyone needs to meet you, as you're the important one." Faux Hawk gave a look of mock look of hurt. "Ok, Ok, you're not that important Lizabeth. I am! Tonight at least, I am!" Faux Hawk laughed and put his arm around her and told her she was indeed important. Or he said something like that. Elizabeth wasn't really listening.

She surveyed the rest the rest of Lily's friends. Hot young artfully Value Village chick. Skeezy guy, the kind who gives dreads a bad name. Her eye was caught by an older man, a man in belted jeans, a man with a short trimmed greying beard. Older suddenly seemed synonymous with better. Skeezy dreaded guy grabbed her hand suddenly and she realized with an inward start that Lily was introducing her around. To late to catch the dreaded guy's name, Lily was moving on already.

"Laurel is a first rate porn writer and good friend." "It's called erotica when it's not videotaped, Lily" said the Value Village girl who was apparently named after a cheap flower. "Whatever, its all porn to me," laughed Lily—another flower name Elizabeth belatedly realized as Faux Hawk burst in with "Are you saving the best for last or what, babe?" "Indeed I am. Elizabeth this is Marcus," but as Marcus graciously extended his hand Lily drove home her little joke by sweeping Elizabeth past him to the silver fox of her interest. "This is my father, Luke." Luke smiled and his dark blue eyes penetrated deep into Elizabeth's brain. Her jaw almost dropped, and she was glad she hadn't yet drunk anything: a shot of booze in her and her mandible would surely have betrayed her.

The opening act was on the tolerable side of awful. A girl with a guitar and a guy with bongo drums who sang achingly saccharine love songs to each other. It was unclear what the purpose of the audience was in this little foreplay ritual but the affection was sincere enough to be heart warming in this almost too intimate space. Lily couldn't pay the attention that due respect required. She kept whispering to hr various friends, but it was quite obvious that this was nerves at work.

Elizabeth had quite adeptly manoeuvred herself into a seat beside Luke. It wasn't that hard really—Lily's friends didn't seem to be falling all over themselves for familial interaction. Whenever Lily spoke to either Elizabeth or Luke she was quite encouraging of their conversing together. Elizabeth was quite sure Lily didn't think she would 'get' her artsy friends. The versa as well.

Drinks drinks drinks. Never had social lubrication seemed quite so... lubricating. The air itself was moist with humidity but Elizabeth was sure it couldn't compare with the moisture occurring in her panties. She was drinking Jack Daniels with Lucas. It was a fitting drink for him, and she wanted to fit. Or rather, she wanted him to fit into her. She knew her mouth tasted like whiskey; she wondered if the rest of her did as well.

She wanted Luke to find out.

Her friend's father. Father. So much not right with this. So much right with another drink though. "Excuse me, off to the bar."

She grinned brazenly at the bartender. "Make it a double. Make it two doubles!" "A little thing like you couldn't handle two on two," he said. She was sure he meant it the way she heard it. "A big thing like you couldn't handle one of me," she retorted. She grabbed her glasses and walked away, swinging her hips so her ass wiggled for the bartender's viewing pleasure. She would have to come back to this bar sometime and ask him for his phone number.

"Double Luke, Jack,' she said and giggled, instantly recognizing her mistake and equally as instantly recognizing that she didn't give a damn. She could never be as unorthodox as Lily's friends thought they were, so who care how drunk she got? Who cared whose father she fucked?

Ooops, had she thought that out loud?

Of course not, one doesn't think out loud.

When Luke spoke Elizabeth listened. "How could I have not met you before Elizabeth? God knows I haven't met all of Lily's friends over the years, but a charming girl like you she could have done me the pleasure of introducing to." Dangling participle thought Elizabeth. Show me how it dangles.

"I've been to open mike nights she's played before, but you were never there." The minute it was out of her mouth it seemed accusatory. But it was true.

"I can only come when she invites me," he said and Elizabeth thought, that's not true. You can come when I make you. "I guess she never thought the open mike nights were important enough. I'm always supportive of my little girl."

Lily mounted the stage just as Luke's last fatherly statement pushed thoughts of mounting him from Elizabeth's brain. Or rather, Elizabeth tried to push them from her brain. They didn't seem to leave her brain. They just sank lower and lower into her.

Lily was good. Elizabeth was sure enough of her own objective critical faculties that she felt Lily deserved the rapt attention she got from her friends and one family member. She was very good. Her voice was infinitely malleable, moving from high childish lilt to growling sexy rumble without conflict, making each noise issued from her formidable diaphragm sound perfectly suited to follow the last. And her lyrics.... Well, her lyrics almost inevitably contained phrases Elizabeth had said in conversation with her. This wasn't the first time this had occurred to Elizabeth, but it had extra weight this time. Perhaps because many of those phrases were of the innuendo sort, perhaps because of the figure in the neighbouring seat. Perhaps because there were two brand new songs she had never heard before, the title and chorus of one of which was the subject line of Elizabeth's last email to Lily. It was "Watching the neighbours through my windows, wishing I wasn't alone."

When Elizabeth wrote that subject she knew it sounded sad. That was the joke. The body of the email explained how she was watching her neighbours have sex and was horny. It was a joke. "Wishing I wasn't alone" sounds like a wistful statement, but Elizabeth meant it lasciviously. Lily's song certainly was wistful. It was still about watching the neighbours have sex. Parts of it were rather racy. But if this song was a joke it was a very sad joke. It managed to meld wistfulness with lasciviousness. Elizabeth liked the song very much, almost despite herself. The naughty bits of it turned her on. The sound, the sadness of it, gave her turned-on-ness a yearning quality. Elizabeth was not used to yearning. She was used to getting.

A hot breath in her ear. A whisper. He hadn't spoken to her since Lily went on stage, paying due attention to the musical brilliance of his progeny. But now he was leaning in to pay attention to her, precious attention for it being from him, all the more precious for it being stolen from the fruit of his loins. Elizabeth was sure no fruit would taste better than his loins.

"Is this the song Lily says you inspired?" He said. The sudden consilience between his words and her thoughts startled her into a drunken giggle. She turned to whisper back. "So that was her peeking in my window last night," she breathed into his ear. His head shook as he chuckled and her head shook as she giggled again. She stayed close, close enough that their vibrations of hilarity allowed her nose to brush his earlobe. She felt an electric shock run from the tip of her nose to her groin. What's more, she felt an electric shock run from his earlobe down to his groin. She knew what he felt. She knew she could have what she wanted. She knew she could have whatever she wanted from him. If she wanted she could have him right now, on the little bar table, in front of his daughter and all her friends. And none of them could stop them. And she did kinda want that.

Why would she want to hurt her friend? That would certainly hurt Lily yet the thought of it was soaking her panties. Perhaps she was a bad person. Time for another drink. She stood up.

As if on cue, Lily's faded out with a last tremulous heart-wrenching whisper and the bar erupted into applause. Break time. Elizabeth applauded furiously, trying to make up in support what she had been lacking in inner discretion. Lily bounded toward her and enveloped her in an expansive hug. Her breasts fit with Elizabeth's like a jigsaw puzzle. Elizabeth felt sexual energy pouring out of her body and wondered what exactly it was that ran in this family.

Of course Luke stood up to hug her too, but Lily didn't both to let go of Elizabeth, she just flung one arm around her father and pulled them both in tight to her, which was, of course, also tight to each other. With one breast up nuzzling up to Lily's and one pressed against Luke's flat chest she felt terrible urges to do obscene things to them both. At once. Words of flattery were exchanged. Elizabeth needed to break free before she acted on her impulses. "I need to go to the bathroom," she said.

"I do too, can you show me where they are?" said Luke. And Elizabeth thought, uh oh.

"Go on and bring me a drink when you come back," Lily laughed, as if this was a joke. Then she slapped both of their asses, one hand to each, then turned to go get praise from her other friends. Elizabeth managed to hold Luke's eye for about 3 seconds, trying to decipher what his intentions were in that aged and icy blue. She thought she could read nothing good in there. Nothing good was good for her. She turned and led their way to the back of the bar, being sure to swing her hips from side to side as she took each step. His eyes on her ass were as palpable as if his hands were there, caressing the same spot his daughter just slapped.

Down the stairs. The door. A small vestibule, door to the men's on the right, door to the women's on the left. One deep deep breath and she turned, locked eyes, and slowly backed into the women's. She knew it. Along with anticipation there was the glorious thrill of being right. He was hers. He had made no move to enter the men's. He followed her as surely as if her gaze were a leash.

She slammed her body up against his, slammed his body up against the closing bathroom door. They devoured each other's tongues. Jack Daniels on Jack Daniels. His tongue was slightly textured, like a cat's. She loved the roughness of it. This situation called for rough. There was nothing gentle about fucking your best friend's father.

With his thought in mind, she went straight for the goods. As her left hand crept up his shirt at the back her right hand grabbed his belt, pulling his hips to hers, but also checking for give, the room for movement allowable within the confines of his belt. There was room. His abs were hard. Of course they were. You only look this good at that age if you take care of yourself.

And looking this good at that age was rare enough that he looked even better. Incomparable she could even say. She couldn't compare him to the other men she had had. There was always a little bit of pretence with them. Always a bit of chatting up, of pretending this was a date, of pretending to care about more than just sex. Elizabeth never bothered to disabuse her men of the notion that she needed kind words and potential future encounters to get her underwear off. She was there to get laid, not to effect change in gender roles. Truth be told, she didn't think they could be changed, and why should they? The game was fun.

But with Luke, right here, right now, this was more than fun. And this wasn't a game. They both knew where they stood.

Elizabeth vaguely recalled Lily telling her once that her parents had a loveless marriage. She didn't think she'd be acting any differently if she didn't know that. In fact she wasn't sure she wasn't just making it up to ease her guilty conscience.

Her hand slid down his tight hard abs. Every inch of his flesh was straining with anticipation. With heat. With want. She touched the tip of it. She drew back a millimetre, teasing for an instant, an instant that more than made up for the utter lack of time between first kiss and first cock contact. It was like the exhaust pipe when her father used to ride motorcycles: hard and hot and needing to breath. She wondered if Lily's father ever rode a motorcycle. She dropped to her knees.

Licking his cock ridge was like that first taste of dark chocolate. She just wanted more. She closed her lips tight around just his head and slowly started licking it, from frenulum up and over his opening, finally covering the entire head, leaving it slick with saliva. She pulled away to look up. In her raving youth she had never seen drug induced ecstasy as strong as this. His lips were parted, he was breathing as hard as his cock was. His eyes were glazed but bright and focussed. Focussed on her. The tip of his tongue appeared between his lips for a moment, in a licking motion. He wanted her so bad he could physically taste her. She had never been wanted like this before. She had never been the fulfilment of a fantasy. She was sure she was now. This respectable older married gentleman was not a lech. If he had ever cheated on his wife before it had been with a respectable older also-married lady.

Not that this was cheating now. It wasn't cheating. It was just head. Okay, okay, she thought. If this was just going to be head it better be the best head she had ever given in her life. She thrust her face forward, into his groin, sucking his cock back as far as she could take it. With her nose pressed into his pubic hair, which was silvering beautifully, she pulled her tongue forward and backward so it massaged the underside of his shaft. He shuddered slightly. She felt and tasted a sweet drop of pre-come fall into the back of her throat to slide down deep inside her. She imagined it sliding all the way through her to come out with the considerable moisture already dripping down her thighs.

His hands came down on the top of her head. She surprised herself by liking it. He didn't think any movement he made was calculated in the slightest. She didn't think he knew what he was doing even when he was doing it anymore.

She wanted him to lose control. She wanted him to grab her hair and ram his cock into the back of her throat. She wanted him to throw her back and sink it into her, without even checking to see if she was wet enough. Of course, she knew that she was more than wet enough. She wanted him to do these things. She wanted him out of his mind with lust. She wanted him to forget his wife, forget his daughter, forget that any minute now people would be wondering where they are and might actually come looking for them. And she could make him do these things. She swallowed hard, pulling the head of Lily's father's cock down the back of throat then released it, sliding her lips along the length of it until she finally pulled away. She looked up. His eyes were blinking rapidly and a flush rose to his weathered cheeks as if he had just come from a dark warm place into a bright cold one. She fell backwards, catching herself with her hands on the cool tile. The motion made her skirt fall up against her thighs, as she knew it would. This was not going to be just head anymore.

"Elizabeth," he said. "Elizabeth." He was trying to protest. But he couldn't find the words. Good. If he couldn't say it, methinks he doth not want to protest too much. She kicked off her high heeled sandal and ran her toe up his thigh. Her toes were tools. She grabbed his belt with them and pulled downward. She could not possibly exert enough force with her toes to make this strong man move a muscle, yet he followed her feet downward, all the way down. In the final moments before full body contact she flipped her skirt even farther upwards, laying bare her skimpy panties. She thought they'd burst into flame with the heat of him. She thought he'd melt right through them, his hard cock against the soft fabric. She ran her hands up his back, lightly dancing her fingertips over his finely aged flesh, then drawing them back down, hard, with nails. He moaned against her neck, then bit it. The bite felt like bliss. She arched against him in joy, which pushed her pert breasts against his chest. She dug her nails in more, encouraging him to bite harder. He did. She ran her hands back up his back, then over his shoulders, onto where they touched hers. She pulled away from him, pressed back against the floor. He looked down into her eyes and she could see panic. He was going to bolt if she allowed him one second to think. She didn't intend to do that.