Tangled Passions Pt. 02 Ch. 17-19

Exploring Gastown and the waterfront, she saw the rubbies and junkies who populated the dark and dangerous fringes of what we like to call civilization. The more variety of life she saw, the more she found herself noticing the edges of places. Out of the corners of her eyes, she watched for naked glimpses of the underbelly of the city. The poverty and despair was heartbreaking; but, in a way, the preening and strutting poses of the terminally fashion-conscious yuppies and the single cruisers were almost as sad. In seeing the rudderless, soulless masses going day to day about their perceived business, Jenn began to wonder if there wasn't, perhaps, something more to it. Did she really want to just settle herself back into the rat race? Perhaps she could just stay an observer – riding through the world but not part of it.

The raw flesh of a big city is not always where one might expect. She began to focus more on the people – the incredible diversity of people that made up a city, looking upon the secrets of the city as more than just a convenient distraction. She began to notice some of the quiet multitude of people who lived beyond society's bounds – outside its constraints. How did they live that way? What was it like? She was curious to know why someone would choose to live as an outsider, as so many of them had obviously, deliberately done. What freedoms had they given up to do so? What new freedoms did they now enjoy? Jenn idly wondered if she could ever live that way; live such an alternate lifestyle, in which the rules were ever dynamic and insubstantial. Could she ever become that asocial – be a true nonconformist? "Not likely," she usually conceded.

Riding innocently, observantly along an urban trail in south Burnaby, through middle-class residential districts, skirting shopping centres here and there, making the odd foray into a mall or plaza, Jenn discovered yet another intriguing small business. Slightly off the beaten path – on the edges once again – near Metrotown, was a small, modest looking storefront calledLove & Kisses. The window was almost obscured with layers of pale sheers, but, peering through the gaps, Jenn could just make out a sort of lacy confusion of lingerie and nighties. Impulsively, she locked her bike and entered the shop to look around. The woman at the counter glanced up from her magazine and smiled but said nothing as Jenn wandered into the narrow aisles. The lingerie was all cute but somehow tawdry or dated – mostly red and black lace – much of it with cutouts as if it weren't already see-through enough. But at the back of the store, Jenn came upon a selection of sex toys – dildos and vibrators and cock rings and lubricants – like she had never laid eyes on.

It had been a couple of weeks since Matt had left and Jenn was not only missing him, but also missing what he could give. Visions of sex tumbled across her thoughts. She pictured Matt’s genitalia, and smiled. She adored his asymmetry – the way, whether he was cold and all shrunken, or hot and baggy, or aroused and firm, his right ball always hung a little lower than his left; and the left one always a little more forward – out front. As a result, his dick always curved a little to the right. And it was most pronounced when he was semi-turgid. When they had first gone out he had, she remembered, been rather self-conscious about it, but she had reassured him that it was really, “...very cute.” There, standing trembling in the dim aisle, a searing heat rushed to her cheeks and between her legs, doing its best to burn away the smothering melancholy.

Reluctantly she admitted to herself that she was horny, and her own fingers just wouldn't quite satisfy. Checking about her to see if anyone was watching, she began to pick up and handle the display items. Large latex phalluses, wobbling gently, invitingly in her hands, inspired within her feelings she couldn't quite identify. A cheeky naughtiness rippled across deeper, more profound longings, which she couldn't clearly discern. Seized by a mischievous desire to do what she had never had the nerve to even try, she made a sudden choice and took the unopened box from a lower shelf. She read the box carefully. It was a colossal, vibrating dildo, lewdly sculpted as a caricature of a mammoth erection out of soft, flesh tone latex. It had lots of features, including fluid bladders for warming, a lubricant reservoir, and variable speeds for three different vibrating modes that could be used separately or in combination.

Holding the package against her chest, she looked around once more. It was, she realized, a rather sleazy shop – dim and dusty with cheap, drab decor, but it had an air of excitement and exoticism about it that could be neither denied nor explained. A gypsy spirit was alive in there, Jenn was suddenly convinced. After steeling her nerve, she took her purchase to the till. She paid for it with hardly a word, and as she left the store, the bag containing her new treasure held tightly in her hand, she turned to mumble "Bye" to the clerk. The woman replied lightly with a knowing grin, "Have fun." Out in the sunlight, Jenn struggled to hide the parcel in her backpack and only as it disappeared from sight beneath the flap did she realize how tense she had been. A funny feeling crept down from her knotted gut to tickle her between the legs. The excitement of the purchase and the anticipation of its use conspired to put an irremovable, self-satisfied grin on her face. She unlocked her bike, donned her helmet and headed directly home.

Though no eyes could possibly see her, Jenn closed the drapes once she got back and poured herself a sherry after putting on some classical music. She unwrapped her parcel with the care of a bomb defuser. She couldn't explain why, but she felt frightened, as if something were about to happen over which she had no control. In the familiar surroundings of her own home, the thing looked monstrous. It couldn't have been that big in the store, could it? Laying it gently on the carpet she went quietly to the bedroom to fetch the jelly they kept in the night table, and to the kitchen to fetch the spare dry cells, which Matt had insisted they would need someday. As completely subdued as she felt, Jenn couldn't help but smile. Finally a use for Matt's D cells – little did he know.

After inserting the batteries, and ensuring that it actually ran, Jenn experimented with the various modes, running it over her cheeks and neck. Slowly, bashfully, she unbuttoned her blouse and allowed the shivering behemoth to play across her breasts. Her nipples stiffened as ignition routines slowly got underway deep in her control centres. Undoing her jeans and trying to insinuate the rubber tool into her panties, she realized that her completely unnecessary modesty was making her explorations nigh on impossible. So, standing to first finish her drink, she stripped off all her clothing before settling back into the comfortable warmth of the recliner. Her left hand reflexively cupped her right breast, forefinger and thumb rolling her erect nipple gently, while she slowly lowered the humming machine to her crotch. With gentle, unsure strokes, she delicately touched it to her labia. The cleft lips mildly responded to the resonant thrumming by unfolding like a morning blossom – opening to expose her sensitive clitoris. Jenn couldn't believe how good it felt. She stopped only long enough to decide she couldn't be bothered at the moment with the lubricant reservoir, and, after spreading KY Jelly liberally over its flesh-like surface, she resumed her stroking.

Her eyes fluttered closed as murmurs of contentment rumbled in the back of her throat. She felt her hips begin to move involuntarily, shifting slightly to meet the stimulation. And almost before she could notice, the phallic strokes changed to pokes and prods. Abruptly, as her hips heaved forward, the massive tip pushed hard against vagina and slid past its lubricated entrance. The diameter of the vibrator, coupled with its intricate movement, caused shock waves of electricity to encompass her body. Pinching her nipple hard, Jenn began to rock the chair violently as she thrust the pseudo-erection in and out of herself, faster and faster. The hum of the vibrator, crescendoing against her clitoris, finally ignited her orgasm. She couldn't stop. Bouncing up and down, forward and back, she felt the monster's rubber head bruising her cervix; still the climax carried on. Sticking her other fist into her mouth to quell her threatened scream, she felt the energy begin to drain. Her vaginal muscles still pulsed against the latex shaft as her hand finally stilled, leaving the whirring end protruding from quivering lips – from her sodden bush.

Phew! The drought had ended, it seemed, with a violent cloudburst. Jenn lay for long minutes, motionless, except for the heaving of her chest. The gradual expulsion of the fleshy dildo finally brought her back to earth. She couldn't believe what she had achieved by herself. It made her feel, in a funny sort of way, proud. She'd be all right. And, the lack of warmth and personality notwithstanding, so was her new toy. It wasn't as good as the real thing only because it was disembodied, but it was, Jenn had to admit, far, far better than nothing.

Try as she might, however, she would never again achieve a completely solo orgasm with anywhere near the intensity of that first try.

Cycling and masturbating were all very well, but it was only during the short changing and showering time after her aerobics classes that Jenn got any opportunity to engage in adult conversations. Working irregularly at so many different schools, Jenn rarely spent any time in staffrooms, so most of her human interaction at work was with children. She missed being able to express ideas and discuss controversies with her peers, and she felt another hole, or perhaps just, another corner of the same hole, opening up. Maybe it was a sign of her healing – that she was able to acknowledge it now, but her need for companionship slowly gained prominence, and she began to look for excuses to tarry after aerobics classes. She struck up conversations with some of the other ladies as they got changed after class and their chats were always pleasant; but they were invariably shallow and short, for, of course, the others were all anxious to get home to husbands and lovers. Jenn felt the terrible loneliness creeping back again, as, again she was left all alone in the empty lobby of the centre.

In an effort not to aggravate her desolation by rushing back to her empty home, Jenn sat in the lobby one evening and began to read the plethora of community literature available there. Emerging from the office, the class instructor noticed her there and spoke to her. They chatted easily for a long while before saying good night and parting. Jenn felt the instant and intuitive recognition of a new friend. She went home feeling warmed – hopeful. The next night, Jenn waited deliberately. When Lisa, the instructor, appeared Jenn greeted her warmly, and as they began a friendly conversation, it was Lisa who suggested they go for coffee. Smiling happily, Jenn, felt a rush of warm relief as she eagerly agreed.

At the adjoining cappuccino bar, they reintroduced themselves. Sipping hot lattés and dipping biscotti, they laughed and gossiped like old friends. Their personalities seemed to mesh like fine machinery. Jenn felt a happiness she had forgotten about – a contentment she had not really known in over two years. She was, understandably, reluctant to say good-bye; dreading the silent emptiness of her condo.

It was Lisa who made the necessary first move. "I wish we could talk all night, but I've really got to go." She stood up, and picked up her bag. Jenn rose too. "See you then – tomorrow," Lisa said, her bright blue eyes suddenly piercing Jenn's. They hesitated awkwardly. Jenn finally extended her hand tentatively, as if to shake.

"Yeah, see you. It's been really nice. Thanks." Jenn felt embarrassingly tongue-tied and uneasy. Suddenly, Lisa leaned forward and hugged Jenn tightly.

Jenn's own tension must have been obvious, for Lisa whispered secretly into Jenn's ear, "Nihil carborundum illegitimi – that's sorta Latin. Loosely translated; don't let the bastards get you down." She stepped back, still holding Jenn's shoulders, as Jenn's hands rested on hers. "Thanks for the coffee," she smiled. "You take care now, okay?" It was everything Jenn could do not to dissolve into tears. She let go with a nod and a smile as Lisa strode out the door. Some part a Jenn's brain noted, objectively, that she moved not really with feminine daintiness, but with a sort of carnal resilience.

Jenn had liked Lisa from the start of the classes. She had a kind of voluptuousness about her – strong, exciting, yet soothing. And now Jenn somehow knew she had found a friend. "Lisa," she repeated dreamily, later one evening, again over lattés, "I once knew a beautiful little girl by that name – Lisa and her sister, Lucy," she said dreamily. She was getting better. In Lisa's company, thoughts of her daughters were not quite so sharp or hollow. Lisa had smiled and waited. Jenn was thankful she didn't ask for elaboration. That little glimpse was enough for a start. Despite Lisa’s maturity, Jenn could see in her some of her own little girls. Apart from everything else, she liked that in her, as well.

"You do a lot of aerobics," Lisa observed another evening over coffee.

"Yeah," Jenn allowed. "Exercise is just about the only release I get." She felt comfortable with this girl – woman. She knew they could be friends. It wasn't just the name – one of her own babies now grown up to a beautiful young woman. Nonetheless, it surprised her when she heard herself adding, "Other than my..." She had caught herself just before she said, "fingers and vibrator," yet her meaning seemed frightfully obvious, at least to herself. It had come out by accident; a very private thought, unintentionally voiced – alluded to. The blush she felt suffuse into her already exercise-flushed face embarrassed and confused her all the more; yet, somehow it pleased her as well – that she already felt so at ease with her beautiful companion. When she looked up at Lisa, mumbling, "Sorry, I shouldn't have... I mean..." she peered straight into deep, concerned compassion. There was no trace of a blush there.

"No husband?" Lisa queried, nodding to the ring on Jenn's wringing hands. Lisa's own fingers were unadorned.

"Yes, but," Jenn tried to recover her composure, "he's going through some sort of mid-life crisis, the dear man." She smiled wistfully. She didn't really want to say anything. But she had to face the facts, didn't she. "He's left for a bit," she managed to say not nearly as flatly as she felt. Trying to make light of it, she laughed wryly, "We hadn't been getting it on too much lately, anyway."

"And you're so beautiful," Lisa said in complete candor, staring piercingly. There was an almost supernatural depth in her glinting eyes. It made Jenn shiver.

"Thank you," Jenn replied, dropping her eyes and feeling a slight flush wash her cheeks once again. Then, in an effort to steer the conversation away from herself, she inquired, "What about you? Do you have a 'significant other'?"

"Oh, my – uh – roommate left a few months ago, and moved to Toronto."

She knew it wasn't her place to pry, but Jenn silently wondered about the gender of the departed roommate. Had there been a relationship there? Something about the way Lisa had rolled the word – roommate. She wondered if Lisa was, perhaps, gay – though, she reprimanded herself, what would it matter? Just as Lisa had not pressed for clarification on Jenn's own cryptic reference to her daughters, she would not pry into Lisa's past relationships or sexual proclivities.

Lisa shrugged. "Still, I don't really mind being alone – being independent for a while. It's not so bad."

Jenn shivered with an excitement that, she realized, could only be sexual. She had never ever considered herself a candidate for a lesbian relationship, but the beauty who sat across from her, whose eyes seemed to bore directly into her soul, was causing in her strange sensations – not unpleasant, but different – like nothing she had ever known. The strength of it all made her head swim. It was a little too scary. For some reason, she really wanted to come right out and ask Lisa if she was gay, but, she worried, that might just jeopardize or taint their developing friendship. She knew she didn't want that. Once again, life seemed to be heaping confusion upon her. After a few more moments of suddenly meaningless small talk, Jenn excused herself. "See you next class," she chirped, although she wondered if she dared. A sympathetic smile graced Lisa's lips as she said good-bye.

Matt had always been the driving force in her life; especially in her – in their sex life. She had always been a sexual dependent: now she was behind the wheel. The sudden independence frightened her. Something was apparently rolling, but, not only couldn't she see where she was going, she didn't know how to steer.

XVIII.

Over the next few sessions Lisa began joining her class in the change rooms after class, and, more and more Jenn could feel Lisa's aura nearby – like a field of hyper-vivaciousness. The woman virtually sparkled with life. In some ways Jenn was envious, in others, pleased. Often she and Lisa ended up being last in the change room. Jenn had a slight suspicion that maybe Lisa was actually manipulating conversations and cleanup to that end. In any case, Jenn began to find herself, more often than not, alone in the showers with her instructor – her friend. There, Lisa would offer, innocently enough, to soap Jenn, who felt warm and relaxed, bathing in Lisa's attention. Lisa had become 'best girlfriend' and confidante. If, as they chatted, the sponge moved further afield, Jenn felt no need for alarm. The trailing fingertips – here a curve of a breast or hip, there a touch of a nipple – all incorporated into the conversation, just as tactile emphasis – seemed almost unconscious. A good-bye hug naturally led to a buzz on the cheek. Those modest pecks migrating to the lips had been surprising, but pleasantly so. And, even then, Jenn had allowed herself to keep believing them to be just the chaste nuances of a blossoming friendship.

Nevertheless, some weeks later, when Lisa had let her fingers drop, after a particularly nice kiss, standing warm, wet and naked in the deserted shower of the Centre, she touched Jenn's clitoris. The physical stimulation of aerobics, scintillating conversation, invigorating shower and wonderful kiss had combined to set hypnotic waves of sensation rippling through Jenn's body. Her breasts had become firm under Lisa's touch; her nipples were hard; and her labia had opened like the petals of the pink flower. Intoxicated by the gentle pleasures, her trance was shattered with an unexpected violence.

Jenn went off like a tightly wound clockwork. Wrapping her arms about Lisa for support, muscular spasms running rampant, Jenn unconsciously ground her pubis against Lisa's thigh, trapping the infuriating fingers. As her knees gave way, her weight fell full against Lisa causing her to stumble and pinning her against the tile wall of the stall. Head tossed back, she felt more than heard a high pitched wail rise to her lips. The apex of the orgasm soared still higher, as Lisa covered her neck and chest with passionate kisses, fingers of one hand persisting relentlessly at Jenn's snatch; the other hand over Jenn's mouth in an effort to stifle her shrieks. With a final quaking gasp, eyes closed, heart pounding, chest heaving Jenn squeezed herself tight against Lisa. She detected the let down response between her legs as her juices flowed over Lisa's still active fingers. Drained and insensate, Jenn collapsed, pulling Lisa down with her into the corner of the shower. As she came to, moments later, Lisa was gently rocking her. She couldn't believe she had actually swooned. That only happened in stories, didn't it?