The scenic route, that the Pacific Coast Highway sports, is lost on Ann as she stares out the window. Her thoughts take her back to the past, when Dianne and her were friends --- close friends. They had confided in each other for years and even though Ann was 15 years older than Dianne, Dianne never once made her feel matronly. In fact she always made her feel young, carefree, and beautiful. That had all changed when Dianne had confessed her desire to explore the sexual tension both women experienced when around the other. Dianne had never been with a woman, and though Ann had and had similar feelings for Dianne, she chose instead to turn away. She confessed in cryptic words that the desire and love she had for her friend would quickly become an obsession, an obsession that would not bode well for either woman's marriage.
The thought of John, Ann's husband of 20 years, causes her to shift uncomfortably in her seat, bringing her back to the present. She turns her head, looking over at him. He seems focused on the road, maneuvering the Lexus around the crooks and crevices of the highway, but she knows his focus is most likely on what woman will share his bed. They have an unspoken arrangement -- a don't ask don't tell policy. Ann smiles when he turns to catch her gaze and then frowns when he speaks a question.
Ann tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, shrugging her shoulders. "Not really," she lies. "Dianne and I have put the past behind us and tonight --- it may be awkward at first, but eventually it'll be fine."
"Well, if you two... ."
"It's not going to happen," Ann hisses under her breath. "So don't bring it up again."
John's jaw tightens at the dismissing tone that Ann used; a sliver of guilt wells up inside her. She pushes it down, refusing to apologize for the emotions that slipped free. John wants her to explore the feelings she has for Dianne; he told her to years ago, giving her permission to seduce the young woman, even going so far as to seek James', Dianne's husband's opinion.
It hadn't surprised her when she had heard James had already given Dianne permission to have a dalliance with her then-best-friend. What bothered Ann was the eagerness in which John had pursued the entanglement. He had never voiced the desire to join or watch, leading Ann to believe it was in order to calm his guilt. He had had numerous affairs, affairs she had chosen to ignore in order to keep herself and her husband in the lifestyle they'd become accustomed to.
High society preyed on weak marriages, names were smudged through the tabloid pages like warm ink and though both of them would eventually recover from a messy divorce, neither of them wanted one. They had a mutual understanding, and it had gotten them to where they were today. John was a very successful businessman who wheeled and dealed with major players in the entertainment industry and she was a very well-kept happy socialite, as was Dianne.
Reflections of the past seemed to allow Dianne's visage to float back into Ann's mind. She saw the young woman, eyes full of mirth and adventure, standing several feet away from her. Her lean figure, high placed breasts, and long legs simply spoke of sexual promise, yet it was so much more than physical desire that Ann had for Dianne. It was the need to hold, treasure, and love. She knew her friend craved someone who would not hold back their emotions, or keep their passion chained, but at the same time be someone who nurtured her out of her shell. Ann could do all of that and so much more for Dianne and it was because of those feelings that she'd managed to avoid the other woman for the past two years. Tonight though, through a series of emails and phone calls she and Dianne had repaired the wounds created and had agreed that tonight would be the official beginning of their renewed non-sexual friendship. To say she was disappointed would have been an understatement, but it was, in Ann's opinion for the best.
John slows the car, causing apprehension and indecision to creep up into Ann's chest. She looks around, finally taking note of their surroundings. The security gate of Marty's home is open and holiday lights glow against the thick canopy of trees that line their friend's driveway. When they reach the top of the cliff, John pulls his car up to the front steps and slid the gear into park. A valet comes forth, opening her door, while another man slips over to take the keys from John. She steps out, the valet aiding her, before handing her hand over to John.
Ann's dress shimmers as she walks. The Christmas lighting that Marty's groundskeeper has placed around the beach house reflects off the various sequins and rhinestones that were embroidered into her gown. They are greeted by another of Marty's staff, relinquishing their coats and immediately offered flutes of champagne. Ann waves hers off, choosing instead to keep her arm looped around John's. Together they walk, arms linked through the two-story, glass enclosed entry. The sound of holiday music plays throughout the house, giving a sense of Christmas cheer to all those present.
When they cross the threshold of the living room, familiar faces surround them. With tension mounting, Ann scans the room, looking for Dianne. Her search comes up empty. With shoulders slumped she swallows the lump of disappointment and tries to tell herself that her friend's absence is for the best.
John disentangles himself and smiles back at her as he makes his way toward Marty, their host and mutual friend. Ann waves when Marty nods in her direction, while extending a hand toward her husband. The last time she'd seen Marty had been in July, during a Fourth of July bash that he'd thrown at his condo in the city. He still looks like the same jubilant fellow and life of the party. His smile, wide and welcoming lights up the room. She immediately feels more at ease in his presence, refusing to let Dianne's lack of attendance squelch her evening.
A soft touch on her elbow causes her to turn. Karen, Marty's wife stands next to her. Once she's been acknowledged by Ann she drops the cool touch and steps back. Ann can't help but feel the other woman's gaze drift slowly down and then back up her body. It is not attraction that forces Karen's eyes to slide over the Armani that Ann has chosen for the occasion, it was the need to judge and deem her guest worthy or not. When Karen's lip rise in a slight smile, Ann knows she's passed inspection. "It's nice to see you again," Karen tells her, "it's been far too long."
Ann weakly agrees, inwardly she thinks that it has not been long enough. She listens to Karen talk about her newest piece of artwork that she's acquired at auction and waits for the hostess of the night to lose interest in the newest arrival. It doesn't take long and when Karen disappears to mingle with another of California's upper-crust Ann goes in search of a beverage that won't deprive her of her senses.
As she sips on a glass of ginger ale, Ann slips back into the crowd of holiday revelers. The sound of Ian, laughing and telling jokes that are better left in a locker room, make her shake her head in amusement. He is, as always, full of mirth and humor. In fact, he could give Marty a run for his money in the most likeable fellow in the room department.
A group of both single and married men hover around the plush leather couch where Cat sits. She is again the center of attention, whether by choice or not. Her exotic looks and delightful charm make her a magnet to both sexes. Her intelligence only adds to her appeal, and if Ann were in the mood to listen to the woman's endless chatter she would have happily joined the group of infatuated men.
Ann turns toward the well-known and familiar, comforting voice of James, Dianne's husband. Instantly her pulse races and her chest tightens. "James," she says in a forced tone of normalcy, "I didn't see you come in."
James chuckles softly. "We were here earlier than most. Marty and I had some business to discuss. Dianne said you were coming. It's really great to see you," he admits, before pulling her against his chest and giving her a friendly hug. He kisses the top of her head and lets her go.
"It's nice to see you too. It's been too long."
"Two years too long," James politely chastises.
Ann nods her head in agreement, before scanning the crowd for James's wife and her long-lost best friend.
"She's around here somewhere," James whispers against her ear.
"I'm sure we'll trip into each other eventually."
James winks, gives her a soft pat on the butt, then leaves her side in search of some other form of entertainment, namely something that will make him richer. Ann takes a deep breath and heads toward the balcony, that overlooks the Pacific. Logs have been lit within the shelter of the white brick fireplace and several party goers casually lurk around it. The chill of the night kisses her flushed skin and she thanks God for it. Her hands come up to touch her hot cheeks, as dawning that Dianne is somewhere within the walls of Marty's home make her weak-in-the-knees.
Ann hears a soft grumbling and notices the tension in her belly. She blushes, hoping no one else heard the unwelcoming sound of hunger; leaving the beauty of the December night to those who have a greater appreciation for it, she walks back through the living room. It's easy to see that some of the party guests have disappeared; she finds herself scanning for Dianne.
When she finally reaches the dining room, where tables are laden with succulent meats, fruits, and various treats that tempt the palate, she hears Dianne. The other woman's laughter is intoxicating and with it emotions that Ann swore were hidden erupt to the surface. She stops and stares at Dianne's back, urging her to turn around and notice her.
Dianne seems to feel the intensity of Ann's stare and turns to glance back. Their eyes lock and for a moment Ann feels as if their past has truly been left behind them. Dianne lifts a brow, then turns away, almost shunning Ann. For a moment Ann is stunned. Had they not talked about reconciliation? Had Dianne misled her? Why was she so openly hostile? Ann turns to walk away, wanting to clear her mind from the turmoil she is feeling.
She takes several steps before squaring her shoulders and choosing to face down her so-called friend. Ann turns back, catching Dianne's figure walking away from the group she was conversing with, choosing instead to disappear down a long hall. Ann walks past the mingling guests that were dining on caviar and cheese, smiling only when her name is called out in passing. Following Dianne, she makes her way down the hall, taking note that the young woman is practically fuming as she stomps off in a childish huff. Anger continues to boil up within Ann as Dianne opens the door to the master bedroom and steps inside, slamming it closed behind her.
Ann stops at the door and takes a deep breath. Her hand hovers as she calms her nerves. Mentally she prepares herself to confront her friend, and ask her why the online communications had promised friendship and her real-life encounter shows anything but. Her lower lip trembles as she opens the door and steps inside.
The bedroom is dark, save but a sliver of light that comes from beneath the bathroom door. She hears Dianne walking around the small room, picturing her with her arms crossed under her breasts and her anger rising to a full-blown tantrum. Traits that are not normally seen gracing the young woman's features. Ann turns and locks the door, determined that once and for all the two of them will hear each other out. She refuses to be childish and demands that Dianne behave accordingly.
Light from the bathroom slowly overtakes the darkness, casting a glow across the room. Dianne steps out and stops. Her gaze locks with Ann's and for a moment neither woman breathes. The sound of Barry Manilow singing A Gift of Love quietly whispers through the bedroom speakers, the soft melodious tune is lost in the heated glares that are thrown by each woman.
Ann stands there staring at Dianne, wanting to slap her for her indifference as well as kiss her with the passion she's longed denied. "I thought we had placed all of this behind us," she finally says, breaking the silence.
Dianne takes a deep breath, shrugs her shoulders and answers. "I thought so too, but then I thought how can we? We never really talked about it? So what can we put behind us -- when we haven't even placed it in front of us?"
"Why did you even have to tell me? What good did it do?" she asked.
"I told you because I thought it would do good," Dianne admitted. "Usually when you tell someone you desire them and want them, that you not only admire and respect them, but that you love them too --- well usually it doesn't blow up in your face! But I guess that doesn't work in your world!"
Ann's eyes narrowed. "We were friends and you wanted us to be lovers."
"So? What are you twelve? You know how important my marriage is to me," Ann hissed.
"Whatever. You know damn well that John lives his own life when it comes to sex and you have always had his permission to take a lover."
Ann shook her head. "You don't understand."
"Then make me," Dianne whispers.
Ann looks at the other woman. "If I do this --- if we do this --- there is no going back. I'll want more. I'll want you every night, every day, every hour and... ."
"You're such a hypocrite. Always telling me and other women out there to go get what we want and to embrace life and live in the moment and yet, here you are denying what you want most in life --- me."
A lump forms in Ann's throat. "You don't know what I want," she mutters under her breath.
"To hell I don't. You want to drop the facade of the happily, loving and caring wife and you want someone to feed the real woman you are. You're waiting for the chance to have someone to share your life with -- someone that gets you -- someone that understands that not only are you smart, witty, and beautiful, but your strong, demanding, and sexually hungry for control over yourself and others. John doesn't do that for you -- he pulls all the strings and yet, he's given you permission. Why don't you fuckin' take it?" Dianne shouts.
"Lower your voice," Ann hisses, mindful of Marty's guest.
"Fuck you," Dianne answers back before crossing the room and reaching the door. She pulls on it, then looks shockingly back at Ann. "You locked it?"
"I wasn't letting you walk away this time."
Dianne rolls her eyes. "This was a joke; you're not ready for this friendship and neither am I. You're always telling folks to act their age and yet, you're the one behaving like some school girl virgin."
Ann watches Dianne's hand move to unlock and open the door. She slams her hand on the wooden surface, slamming it back in and shoves the young woman out of her way. The door's lock is firmly back in place. Before Dianne can storm away, Ann's fingers wrap around her slim wrist. With an iron lock grip, she pulls Dianne toward her, pushing her against the door and roughly kisses her lips.
Their tongues merge together, like waves crashing against the shore. The taste of Ann's ginger ale mingles with the freshness of Dianne's as each woman struggles for control over the other. Eventually Ann wins, pushing Dianne harder against the door. Her tongue forcefully dips in and out of the younger woman's mouth, while her fingers make their way into Dianne's thick locks. They angle their heads, the kiss driving them closer to the edge.
Tingling sensations shot through Ann, desire grew and the pulsating beat of her heart was easily felt between her legs. "Is this what you want, little girl?" Ann hisses against Dianne's lips. "Do you want to feel how badly I've wanted this? How much I've held back?"
She heard the grunted "yes" fall from Dianne's lips seconds before she kisses her again. One hand moves from Dianne's hair, down her neck and squeezes gently. "I've wanted you for a long time Dianne," she whispers, "I've wanted to fuck you, to control you, command you, call you names, and make you beg for mercy. Are you ready for all of it, are you ready to be my cunt, my slut, my whore?"
"Yes --- oh fuck yes."
Ann wastes no time, finally giving in to the desire that she'd kept bottled up for years. As she squeezes on Dianne's neck, she pulls the side-zipper of the girl's dress down, causing the Versace gown to drape open. Dianne's nipples harden further at the loss of heat the dress provided. Ann takes a moment to gaze at the succulent tips before kissing her again. The kiss is still full of fiery heat and passion, but comes across softer.
As she teases Dianne, coaxing her to follow her lead, her hand drops from her neck and down to pull at the other side of the dress. It soon falls from the woman's body, pooling at her feet. Ann leaves the welcoming taste of Dianne's mouth, choosing to kiss and nip at her throat.
"Harder," Dianne begs.
Smirking against her skin, Ann opens her mouth and bites down on the creamy flesh that smells of vanilla. She sucks on the flesh, bruising it and marking her as her property. "You're mine," she hisses, before cupping both of Dianne's tits and lifting them up. Ann lowers her mouth, drawing in first her right nipple, while stroking and teasing the left. She rolls the hard nub around in her mouth, coating it with long licks of her tongue. Dianne groans in ecstasy; the sound vibrates through her chest, making Ann's sex ache in anticipation. She moves over to the other nipple, pulls it between her teeth and bites down, causing Dianne to cry out in pleasure. "So you like it rough," Ann says, stating the obvious in a husky tone.
She stands up and pulls Dianne's hair, yanking her head back, leaving her neck exposed. Ann sucks and bites the tender flesh, feeling the woman growing more weak from the passion she is stirring. She pulls away, stepping back to look over the dishevelment of her best friend. "You're so fuckin' wet; your cunt is dripping. Your panties are soaked."
Dianne licks her lips, touches her soaked thong and feels a wave of heat wash over her. She rubs the silk fabric against her mound and shivers at the sensations that danced up her spine.
"Stop it!" Ann commands.
Instantly the younger woman stops; her hands drop to her side and her gaze holds Ann's.
"Undress me," Ann tells her.
She looks at Dianne's eyes, seeing a mixture of fear and wonder behind the beautiful orbs. Love swells within her heart as the girl steps away from her dress; trembling hands reach out and slowly glide up and down Ann's arm. Dianne walks around her, fingertips trailing over her flesh. Goosebumps appear, coating Ann's body, sending a shiver across her warming flesh. Her nipples swell and her breasts feel heavy. She wonders if Dianne understands the power she too holds. It is something they will have to explore.
The realty of the situation settles on Ann's heart --- this one time will never be enough. With dawning comes freedom. She turns her face toward Dianne and kisses her again, before pulling away and resuming the role her friend needs -- aggressor.
The air caresses her skin as Dianne slips the ipper of her dress down, exposing her flesh. She feels the woman lean in and waits for the telling signs of soft lips caressing her. Dianne does not disappoint. Her mouth moves down Ann's spine; a soft lick follows a kiss; a kiss follows a lick. Ann moans in appreciation and moves to aid her friend when Dianne slides to the floor, pushing the dress down her hips, and past her legs. She steps free of the gown, muttering a low curse when Dianne's hands reach up to grab her ass and kneed the flesh beneath her palms.