Options Ch. 04

Options IV: Refracted Options

This chapter is a bit of a bridge and has very little sexuality in it. But I felt it was needed to help the tale unfold properly. I hope you, dear reader, will enjoy it for what it is. Thanks. PC

Shelly's lips tightened and her eyes blazed. "You fucking bitch!"

"Shelly," Stacy began, "take it easy. I don't want anybody to get hurt—"

Her fury at finding Barb passed out in Stacy's room, at knowing Barb lay there without her panties, at smelling Barb's musk on Stacy's face, burned so hot that Shelly's reason failed her. She ignored Stacy's warning and grabbed for her throat. Then Shelly's wrist went numb and she lost control of her arm. She yelped in pain.

Stacy studied her blonde adversary with an unnerving calm. Her steel-hard fingers dug into a spot in Shelly's forearm and she sank toward the floor with her arm twisted back toward her shoulder. Confusion and agony colored her eyes. Shelly's rising panic made her desperate. She swung her free hand at Stacy's head, but the girl blocked the blow with a strong forearm that numbed Shelly from elbow to fingertips. She could not even kick because her bent legs spoiled her balance.

The brunette spoke in a slow, deliberate cadence and enunciated every word. "Shelly, Ah want y'all to listen to me very carefully, 'kay?"

"Okay," she gasped.

"Ah'm gonna release the pressure, and then we're gonna talk. No more o' this 'cat fight' shit, 'kay?"

Shelly nodded. Stacy let go and Shelly cradled her arm. Her anger remained, but she controlled it with an effort spurred by the phantom thought of self-preservation.

"What the fuck, Stacy? Babs gets pissed off and, like, walks out on me, and now she's here and you guys had sex?"

"Shelly, Barb said she loves you. When Ah called y'all to tell ya Ah was serious as a heart attack. As soon as she said that, we stopped."

"But why'd you . . . guys—" Shelly began to cry. "I love her, Stace, and you two went behind my back." Her voice hardened and she growled, "I'm so fucking angry!"

"Ah know."

"I've been waiting, for . . . wee-eeks," her voiced cracked, "for her to say she, loves, me, and . . . and, this—"

"And this wasn't the way y'all wanted to hear, huh?"

Shelly shook her head.

"Shelly, Ah'm sooo sorry."

"Yeah," Shelly sniffed. "Why the fuck should I believe you?"

"Listen, Ah thought you guys were just messin' 'round. Ah didn't think you and Barb were in love."

"Then you're fucking blind!"

"Ah . . . when she kissed me, well, Ah couldn't stop thinking about her. Ah thought that maybe Ah could . . . oh, shit, Ah was so stupid, Shelly, Ah'm sorry." Stacy looked at the floor and her voice grew quite. "Ah actually thought Ah might have a chance with her." Stacy sniffed and a fat tear slid from her right eye. "Ah can't stop thinking about her. Ah think Ah'm in love with her. But when she . . . said—" Stacy shook as her emotions overwhelmed her poise.

Shelly's expression softened only a little. As angry as she was, she felt an odd connection with the girl at that moment. After all, they were in love with the same woman, though Shelly had prevailed. Hadn't she?

Shaking with effort, Stacy steadied her voice and went on, "Shelly, Ah thought you were kinda a player, and didn't . . . think you wanted . . . anythin' serious . . . with anybody." She sniffed. "Ah had no idea."

"We decided to be exclusive, like, a coupla weeks ago."

Stacy raised her eyebrows. "Sorry, Shelly. Ah didn't know."

"You're telling me that if you knew that it would've made a difference? Really?"

The girl nodded. "But Ah thought since all y'all wanted a threesome, you guys were, like, open, y'know?"

"Only if we were both in on it. To-ge-ther."

"Oh."

"And then this shit? Muh-ther-fucker!"

"Shelly, remember Barb had some to drink. Ah don't think she woulda done anything without you if she was sober. Prob'ly never will again. If y'all want her back. You do, doncha . . .?"

The blonde's angry stared bore into Stacy's eyes.

"Yeah, Ah would, too." She sighed. "Barb even seemed scared when she, like, found out you weren't here," Stacy offered as a slightly sanitized history.

"What? What the fuck did you do?"

Stacy held her hands toward Shelly to slow her racing mind. "'Kay, lemme start ovah." Stacy sighed. "'Kay, so Barb shows up and wanted to drink with me. Ah said 'no'. Then she insisted. So Ah stalled and got some glasses from the bathroom. Figured she might fall asleep. But when Ah came back she lifted her skirt and wanted me to . . . well, y'know." She took another deep breath.

"Shelly, Ah'm sorry." Stacy saw an iota of tension leave the Shelly's eyes, but her jaw remained clenched. "So Ah was . . . well, she called out your name and said, 'Ah love you, Shelly'. So Ah stopped. Like right then! And then she looked for you 'cause she thought I was you, and when she figured out you weren't here she kinda freaked out, rolled over and started crying, said, 'What have Ah done?' and then she passed out."

As hurt and mad as Shelly felt, her heart leapt knowing Babs called out her name in a fit of passion. For the first time since Stacy stormed out of their dorm room earlier that night Shelly allowed herself a tiny smile.

"Shelly, Barbara loves you. It breaks my heart . . . fo' me. But, but Ah guess Ah'm happy for all y'all." The brunette sniffed and dabbed at her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "Ah'm really, really sorry," she whispered one more time.

"Stacy, what the fuck did you do to my arm?"

"Oh, sorry. Keep rubbin' like that and it'll feel better."

"No, seriously, what'd you do?"

"Um, a little pressure point thing."

"How'd you—"

"Well, uh, my mom was worried 'bout me. She wanted me to be able to fight off the hormonal 'bubbas' who might get a li'l bit liquored up, ya know? So my dad and two uncles taught me some kung fu and a coupla diff'rent Chinese martial arts styles. Some tai chi. Sorry."

Despite the lingering desire to hurt Stacy, Shelly could not help but be impressed. Then she analyzed her own intense emotional trauma when she thought of Babs and Stacy together. She remembered that Barb had rejected Stacy. If Stacy really was falling for Babs, a broken heart would hurt a lot worse than anything Shelly could do—especially if Stacy really decided to defend herself. Fuck, Shelly realized, I could totally get my fucking ass kicked!

"Kung fu—Jee-sus Christ!"

"Sorry."

"Shell? Shelly?" Barbara sounded bleary and confused.

"Yeah, Babs, I'm here." Shelly sat on the bed. Her good hand stroked Barb's shoulders, down the length of her spine, tugged her dress down, and travelled up again. "I'm here, babe," she repeated.

"Gawd, Shell, I had the weir-desht fuh-keeng dream . . ." Barb slurred.

"Shush, Babs. I'm here, babe. Just relax and rest, 'kay?"

Barbara snuggled her round bottom against Shelly's hip and sighed. "'Kay, Shell. I feel kinda dizzy anyhoo."

"Shelly, you guys wanna stay heah?" the girl whispered.

"No, Stacy, I'm going to take her to our room. Just give us a fucking minute, okay?"

"Nah, Shelly, Ah mean, really, you guys can totally stay. The sheets are clean," she offered by way of enticement. "Ah can go some other place."

"Shit, Stace!" The angry woman's hand stopped. She took a long breath deep into her lungs and let it out in a slow exhalation. Her voice lost its edge in the process. "No, thanks, Stacy. I'd feel better if we were home, you know? But thanks anyway."

"'Kay, all y'all . . . need . . . any, thing?" Her throat tightened.

"No, just give us a minute, okay, Stace?" Shelly resumed the caresses.

"Okay. Ah'll be in the bathroom." Stacy moved in silent grace and the door latched with a muffled click. If the room had not been so quiet, Shelly would have missed Stacy's muted sobs.

"Babs?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Time to go back to our room, Babs. You ready?"

"Oh-kaaay."

"Okay, lemme get some stuff together."

"Oh-kaaay."

Shelly grabbed the panties from the desk and stuffed them into the satchel. She decided to skip the liquor and juice, and recognized nothing else. She shouldered the pack and moved to her lover's side.

"Okay, Babs, here we go." She lifted, turned and guided Barbara into a sitting position then helped her to stand. The redhead swayed a little, but was able to balance.

"That's my girl, you're doing good."

"I'm your girl?"

"'Course, Babs." Shelly sublimated her anger for later.

"Oh, goody. I wanna be your girl."

"And I wanna be yours," Shelly answered. "Now let me open the door and we'll go home, 'kay?"

"'Kay. Do we need to tell Steph, 'bye'?"

"Who's Steph?" They navigated the doorway and began the short journey down the hall.

"Steph? Who's Steph?" Barb sounded confused. "I said, 'Stace'. Do we need to say 'bye' to Stace?"

"No, it's okay—"

"I love Stacy."

Shelly tensed. She felt herself ready to explode like a nuclear pressure cooker.

"And you, Shelly. I really, really love you Shelly. You're my girl and I don' want anyone elshe."

The young woman began to soften again as her blood cooled. "That's good, Babs. I want you all to myself, too."

"You mean, like, exclusive?"

"Maybe. Would you like that?" Shelly asked as she fumbled for her keys while supporting Barbara.

"Yeah, I'd like that," Barb admitted in a thick voice. "So, no threesome with Stacy?"

"No, Babs, no threesome with Stacy." The lock turned and the door swung open.

"Okie-dokie. And Shelly?"

"Yeah, babe?'

"Would you kiss me?"

"Sure."

"Goody!" Barbara looked at Shelly with fogged eyes, blinked them closed and leaned toward her lover's face. Shelly thought that in her emotional state she could manage a small peck, but Barb preempted any show of affection with a belch.

"Oh, shi—" Barbara turned and weaved for the bathroom. Shelly heard the toilet seat clack followed by the sound of vomiting.

She closed the room door, dropped the backpack on her bed and sighed. Then Shelly went to the bathroom to hold Barbara's hair back.

Barb awoke to a throbbing headache and an empty room. There was a glass of water next to her bed. When she recognized it she two-handed it and drank. It took her a couple of minutes to finish the contents, then she lay back down again.

She woke a second time and checked the clock. Morning had come and gone, and it was mid-afternoon. She tried to remember what day it was, what classes she was missing, and what Shelly's schedule was. Her mental struggle ended when she could only recall that is was Saturday.

Barbara twisted to place her feet on the floor. She needed the bathroom, but when she sat up her head spun one direction and the room spun in the other.

"Oh, shit, you're such a lightweight," She swallowed a few times and panted with the effort, but the spinning slowed. At last she stood and found her balance. She went to the bathroom and was grateful to sit once more. She finished, washed her hands and found the note on the counter near the mirror.

Barbara,

I don't know if you remember what you told Stacy last night, or what you told me. I don't know if you meant it. I DO know it was your idea to be "exclusive" but you hooked up with Stacy without me anyway. Then you told me you wanted to be exclusive again after. That's fucked up.

Last night you walked out on me. You told me you didn't know where you were going but that you knew you didn't want to be around me just then. Well, now I guess it's my turn. You need to decide what you really want. So do I. I'll call you in a couple of days to talk about what's next for us—or for you and me.

Shelly

Barb read it a second and third time. She tried to recall last night and what she told Stacy. She tried to remember what she told Shelly. And she tried to recollect what happened with Stacy. When nothing came to her she lost control. The sobs wracked her so hard that she dry heaved into the sink.

Afterwards she splashed water on her face, crawled back to bed and cried herself into a fitful sleep.

"Hello?"

"Stacy, it's Barb."

"Yeah. Hey. Kinda late."

"Um, Stace, Shelly's gone."

"Wadda ya mean, 'gone'?"

"She left a note and said she'd call me in a coupla days."

"Damn, Barb, Ah'm sorry. She's really mad, huh?"

"Stacy, she said some stuff in her note, but I don't, I can't remember what happened . . . last night so, I, uh, kinda don't get it, you know? Could . . . you, um . . ."

"Barb, what's the note say?"

She read it to Stacy.

"'Kay, what's the last thing y'all remember?"

"I knocked on your door with Vodka and cranberry, you let me in, and, um, that's about it. I think you had trouble pronouncing my name, so that was kinda weird . . ."

"Uh, Barb, you were having trouble."

"Really? With your name?"

"No, your name."

"Nooo!"

"Yuh, huh."

"Shit."

"Yeah, sorry. 'Kay, so here's what happened." Stacy filled in most of the blanks.

But when she had finished, one question still pestered Barb. She asked, "But what did I tell Shelly?"

"Don' know. Didja try callin' her?"

"Yeah, on my cell, the room phone, and I even tried to block my number, you know? Just in case she was mad and blew me off with caller ID. No answer."

"Whatever y'all said musta been when all y'all went back to your room. I just know when you were heah, an' we were, you know, well, you called her name and said you love her." Stacy took a breath and it sounded like a pained moan. She tried to keep quiet, but Barbara heard.

"Stacy, I'm sorry. I know this must be pretty shitty of me."

Stacy attempted to answer, but her voice locked on her.

"Stacy? You there?"

"Yeah," she croaked. She cleared her tight throat. "Yeah, heah."

"I'm sorry. I thought we'd all just have a little fun. I didn't think it'd get so fucked-up."

"It's okay, Barb." Stacy covered her mouth with her free hand and tilted the phone away from her lips.

"Okay, Stacy. Thanks for being so sweet."

"Mm, hmm." It took her three tries to get out the word, "Bye." The girl hung up an instant before she lost the last vestige of control.

Barbara lay back on the bed and tried to make sense of it all. If she only knew what she told Shelly . . .

Barbara grew more worried by the day. She had tried to contact Shelly, left voicemails, texts and e-mails, but they all went unanswered. Waiting outside her classes failed, too; she seemed to be skipping them. She even thought of calling Shelly's home but decided not to. Not yet. She was uncertain how much Shelly's family knew of her lifestyle—or their relationship . . .

Do we still have a relationship? Barb wondered.

So for three days she moped around the room. She skipped her classes. Her studying suffered, but it paled compared to what she felt. She missed Shelly, and the redhead feared she might tumble into the sinkhole in her chest and never be seen again.

As if that was not enough torture, her libido kept reminding her that it had not been satisfied. Barb tried to deny it, to sublimate it, to ignore it, but nothing worked. Out of desperation, and as a temporary escape from her emotional drain, she lay back and caressed her warm skin.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of her fingertips as they explored her body. She started near her face and around her throat. Whenever she found a tingle or tickle she lingered. Soon more of her nerve endings responded and her pleasure simmered.

Her hands traveled to her shoulders and beyond. Expanses of her skin flushed and goose bumps sprung up at her gentle touch. By the time she traced and grazed her breasts, her areolas and nipples had already responded. She had yet to touch them directly but the mere thought of it, and the promise of stimulation made her entire chest pulse and sizzle.

She dragged a fingernail across her left nipple and an electric rush caused her to inhale with a sharp gasp. She wet her right fingers and coated her nipple. The joy of her pinching, twisting play hardened her nipple and wrinkled the surrounding flesh. She wet her left fingers and applied them in similar fashion.

"Oh, God," she moaned. Her body heated and electric blue tingling coursed from her chest through the pit of her tummy and blossomed in her sex. She squeezed her thighs together and the pressure intensified. Her hips shimmied and she noticed her intimate wetness in the glide of her labia. Her scent reached her nostrils and her brain ratcheted to the next level of arousal.

"God, Shelly, lick me, baby."

One hand left her breast and reached between her thighs. She spread her legs a little and touched herself. Her fingers burned with the flowing heat that spilled from her pussy. She massaged her vulva, her wet fingertips slipping and sliding with a delicious lubricated friction.

She imagined her lover teasing and tasting her, licking as only Shelly could. With every lurid image, her fingers suited thought to action. Her free hand went back and forth between her breasts, with occasional detours to her mouth. Her nipples remained wet, slick and erect. They added a counterpoint of pleasure that enhanced the luscious stimulation in her throbbing cunt.

"Right there, Shell!" Two fingers slipped into her opening and curled, collected copious liquid heat and slithered upward. Her lips quivered as the purposeful digits passed on their rapid travails until she spread her fluids on the tip of her throbbing clitoris.

She circled her tip just as Shelly's tongue would. She played, invaded the opening of her hood, pressured and pleasured her smooth pink dome. Her fingers stroked the length of her clit until she pushed against the fleshy pad above her slit. Her pulse beat hard and fast. She heard it in her ears, felt it in her swollen tissues, saw it in the pulsing colors inside her eyelids.

Her scent filled the room. Her sighs became gasps and moans as her fantasy spun out of control. Her naked body broke out in sweat and her chest heaved. Full hips thrust against her hand, her pussy clenched as her fingers worked inside her. Her nipples tightened and stung with bursting intensity. The constant flood between her legs had even seeped between her flexing ass and she noticed the slippery sensations on her rosebud.

"Oh, fuck," she whispered to herself. "Fuck, eat me Shelly. Lick my cunt, baby, suck my clitty. Please!"

Her fingers treated the tip of her clit rougher, moving faster as her orgasm approached. "Fuh . . . oh! . . . God, I . . . Shell . . . I'm, oh, shit . . . ungh, ungh, ungh, ungh! Oh!"

Her body lurched and spasmed. She imploded as though gripped in a tidal wave of physical joy. Her breathing stopped as she strained for the heights of release. Her legs shook. She swirled her clitoris hard into her mons. Her nipples tingled, demanding attention. But she released her stiffened nipple and shoved two fingers into herself. They met no resistance. Barbara's pussy was too wet, too yielding, too aroused.

She felt herself gripping her fingers in rhythmic contractions. She frigged her clitoris and rocketed into another crushing orgasm.

"OhmyGod, Shelly, I love you!"

A heavy spurt of cum sprayed from her slit and covered her hands. Another spread heat down to mid-thigh. The next soaked the sheets. Her climax lasted several more excruciating, beautiful ejaculations that felt so good she hoped they would never end.

At last she finished and began her descent. Her legs imprisoned her hands but she had to hold them still. She rolled onto her side and curled into the fetal position as she caught her breath.