Tangled Passions Pt. 02 Ch. 17-19

They toweled off and dressed in a silent mist. Jenn's head reeled. Something had changed – a point of view, a concept, a feeling. Jenn felt like she'd been ambushed – ambushed by lust. And it had apparently happened without warning, without preliminaries, so very fast. She was terrified and euphoric. She couldn't look at Lisa as she gathered her belongings. "I think I'd better go home," Jenn muttered.

Lisa replied brightly, "See you," and sat motionless on the bench watching as Jenn shuffled out.

Until then Jenn had never had sex with anyone other than Matt – her dating and necking experiences prior to Matt had been very, very limited. She needed a bit of time to make sense of what had occurred – to put it all in order. Even as she made her way home, her mind tumbling with images, she realized that maybe there had been warnings; maybe it wasn't all so sudden – shouldn't have been so unexpected. She had accepted Lisa's attention willingly – appreciatively. It had been the next logical step. And certainly it was she herself that went off, as it were. She re-examined her thoughts and feelings. No, she didn't feel violated; she didn't feel dirty. She felt frightened, maybe, – cautious, but happy. No – even out of the steamy atmosphere of the shower, there was still no regret, no need for shame. Back home, she recovered a mickey of vodka – her vodka – that she had left with a highball glass ages ago in a corner of the deep freeze. Collapsing into the comforting embrace of Matt's recliner, she poured her drink, closed her eyes, and began to sip the ice-cold vodka straight from its frosted glass. The chilling viscous liquid trickled down her throat, its cold fire burning like tongues of arctic lava. A quiet sort of delighted anticipation began to simmer.

By mutual, yet tacit agreement, they didn't immediately repeat the encounter. Jenn casually avoided being last showered or dressed; however, she continued to wait for Lisa after every class. They chatted, and went for coffee, exactly as before. They talked of plans and experiences as if nothing physical had happened between them. Gradually, subtly, though, their shared attraction, the undeniable magnetism existing between them, surmounted Jenn's unconscious objections. Exchanged pats and strokes progressed to hugs and buzzes. Jenn's temporary taboo on showering together slowly became meaningless. Their companionship gently glided out beyond the evenings of aerobics, to add sparkle to an occasional afternoon or weekend. And, in this way, their relationship took on a smooth tranquility. For Jenn, it developed a depth of friendship and support she rapidly came to rely on.

Jenn observed to Lisa, one day over coffee, that her life was changing very – frighteningly – rapidly. Six months earlier she could never even have imagined being separated, let alone having had gay sex with her aerobics instructor. And suddenly she could mention it as matter-of-factly as if it wasn't anything secret or tawdry. Perhaps it needn't ever have been so. "My life is in an uproar," she added rhetorically, staring distantly into the sky of Lisa's eyes. "And where am I going so fast?"

"How can you ever know?" Lisa's reply was puzzlingly prophetic.

Jenn woke up suddenly and completely. She was in someone else's room; it was a woman's room. She could tell. It was not the room of another couple, with its eclectic mix of accessories; it was neither a man's room, reeking of masculinity, nor the sterile anonymity of a motel. It was most definitely a woman's room.

Of course it was. Lying beside her was indeed a woman; her naked tanned smoothness half exposed beneath the crumpled sheets. It was Lisa; and this was her bed; here, with Jenn greeting the morning from it. Slowly the memories of the previous evening flowed over and through Jenn.

She hadn't heard a word from Matt in weeks. Tangibly grieved, she had explained the reason for her funk to Lisa, as they entered the shower together, once again. Jenn thought about Lisa's sympathetic concern, and the kisses she had rained over her to – as she had poetically explained – wash away the pain. It had been almost a carbon copy of that very first time, except last night Jenn hadn't been quite so passive. She thought about them coming out of the shower, panting and dazed. After Lisa had helped her dress, they had gone back to Lisa's apartment. "To catch your breath," she had said with an impish grin, adding, "I'm not so sure you should drive right now anyway." Jenn had allowed herself to be driven in her own car, the short distance to Lisa's home.

Lisa's suite was alone on the top floor of a sprawling four level complex. Nestled in the warren of apartments that made up the Cameron/Government area adjacent to Lougheed, her place was just one of the modern, rambling blocks gathered at the feet of the towering high-rises that forested the area. It was, ironically, very close to the apartment Dara had occupied when Matt had first met her. Whether or not she was there yet remained unknown. Nonetheless, unlike Dara's bright open suite, Lisa was required to ensure her privacy by keeping her drapes drawn, as the residents of neighbouring buildings could otherwise look over and down into her living quarters with relative ease.

The diffused light through the thin, drawn sheers lent a soft security to the dim comfort of the room. The thick, heavy drapes that hung open from a second track could be drawn to shut out all light and even offer a reasonable degree of sound insulation when necessary.

Padding behind Lisa, quietly through the suite to the bedroom, Jenn had flopped down in a sort of thrilling, frightening, dazed confusion. That old Led Zeppelin song flitted through her thoughts. "Been dazed and confused for so long it's not true.” Lisa's cooing kisses and nuzzling embrace had been insistent. "Oh, little woman, never bargained for you." Jenn remembered her own feeble, halfhearted protests becoming tentative replies. She remembered Lisa's skillful fingers burrowing down into her pants, easily reaching the still dampened grotto between her legs, and bringing her so easily to the rush of yet another all-encompassing climax.

That was what had surprised her those weeks and months ago, she recalled, when Matt had started becoming so much more aggressive in their sex. She had sort of realized, even then, that she liked it when someone else took control. When the intercourse was no longer under her control – and it seemed, curiously, the less control she had, the better – she actually enjoyed it more. It was strange, but strangely true.

She thought, too, of her own novice fingers, exploring Lisa's sex, trying to replicate what she had felt Lisa do to her, indeed what she had often done to herself, nights alone. Clumsiness and fumbling notwithstanding, Lisa had climaxed violently on Jenn’s fingers, splashing her hand with copious secretions. Then she thought of the kisses and murmurs they had exchanged as they faded into the welcome oblivion of sleep.

Now Jenn was awake; really awake; Lisa slept blissfully beside her. Something she had done to Matt a long while ago flashed through her mind. It had been during some particularly imaginative foreplay, she remembered. She had sucked on his fingers like they were each a tiny cock. At the time, it had seemed so lewd – so titillating and naughty. She quickly put aside all thoughts of Matt, but allowed the reminiscence of the act to remain briefly. A sly grin spread across her face. Very gently, she took Lisa's sleeping hand and raised it ever so slowly to her lips. First she kissed each fingertip, then she began softly nibbling on them. Soon she was sucking them, engulfing each finger, one by one, pumping it gently in and out of her mouth – tonguing one like a small semi-rigid cock. After she felt she had completely worked one hand, she gently reached for the other, bringing it to her soft lips and giving each of those fingers the same treatment. Lisa appeared to be struggling to remain asleep during the onslaught of caress. The beatific smile on her face spoke of pleasant dreams – too pleasant to relinquish, yet, to consciousness.

As Jenn continued to felate Lisa's fingers, she could just detect some almost imperceptible shimmers of tension trickling through Lisa. She could just detect some complementary shimmers of her own. Slowly, like a child who's got up early and is out before anyone else, exploring places where she's not sure she's allowed, Jenn gently put down Lisa's hand to rise up on her own hands and knees. She turned herself around, taking great care not to disturb Lisa, and positioned her face above Lisa's feet. Lowering herself gently, she began to caress each toe with her lips and tongue. She could feel the tremors run along Lisa's legs and she could feel the tingling sensations of early arousal begin to flash between her own.

She continued the pseudo-felatio until she had paid homage to each toe, then she inched her lips up the trembling legs, her tongue dancing between them, moving tentatively, like a child creeping into a forbidden cellar. Backing up the bed, still on her hands and knees, she allowed her fingertips to dandle up alongside her kisses as she slowly ascended along Lisa's thighs. Jenn's fingers seemed to automatically spread the smooth, pale thighs as her tongue, as if drawn by some magnetic attraction, poked and stroked deeper and higher between them, until it darted, on its own accord, up along Lisa's labia to circle her clitoris. Quivering bolts of raw pleasure ran from the tip of Jenn's tongue directly to her own clit, inflaming her with desire.

Jenn felt the intensity of Lisa's arousal as her hips began to shake and lift off the bed, her clitoris stood suddenly firm and her labia opened, warm and full, like a blossom. No longer in complete control, Jenn attacked wildly, like a starving beast, her lips and tongue whipped and nipped the ever-dampening sex. Lisa threw a groggy arm over Jenn's waist and shuffled her head beneath a knee. Jenn's own arousal was obvious; her vulva was pink and swollen, its puffy lips surrounding a vagina that drooled like a gaping mouth. Lisa brought Jenn's vulva to her own lips with a firm pull against her lower back. Jenn exploded into her first climax of the morning the moment Lisa's tongue touched her clitoris. She soaked Lisa's face as her orgasmic fluids gushed from within. Crying out, she raised her head from Lisa's quim, unable to attend to it and the throes of her own climax at the same time. She thrust herself down hard on Lisa's face and tongue.

Suddenly, in a move so fast as to be the envy of even a good wrestler, Jenn found herself completely underneath Lisa. Lisa's mouth was still connected to Jenn's sex, squeezing more coos and sighs out of her. Jenn felt Lisa's knees splay and watched as the furry nest, wet with her own saliva descended on her. It was not long before the rhythm of Lisa's hips changed from the constancy of arousal to the violence of crisis. Her rigid body flattened Jenn onto the bed as Lisa let shriek escape through the muffling effect of Jenn's bush. Although Lisa’s orgasm was tremendous, she continued, relentless in her stimulation of Jenn, stroking aggressively. And before Lisa reached denouement, she had coaxed yet another climax from Jenn. This time Jenn managed to keep her tongue active throughout – sucking and biting and caressing. They fed off one another, rolling from peak to peak, alternating between violent urgency and gentle serenity. It seemed like hours – or years.

XIX.

Soon Jenn was spending frequent nights with Lisa. She couldn't decide if it was love, infatuation, or simply release; but, whatever it was, it was sure something. The magic of that first encounter in the shower still amazed her. She would occasionally reminisce about earlier times, but thoughts and memories of Matt were disturbing and painful. Mainly she kept them shut away in worry-proof compartments in the back corners of her mind, along with images of the girls. It was easier – happier – to think only about her time with Lisa – to think about Lisa. The mane of thick yellow blonde hair cascading to her shoulders; her vividly blue eyes that glittered with a heated seduction.

Jenn wouldn't allow herself to consider feeling guilty about what she was doing, nevertheless, she would often rerun memories of the first few nights with Lisa through her head, as if she were looking for clues to something – but she didn't know what.

She began to wonder how satisfied with Matt she had ever really been. Certainly she had loved him, of that she had no doubt, but sexually she was not so sure now that they had been exactly in tune. Sure she had always loved sex with him but some of the responses she had with Lisa made her orgasms with Matt pale in comparison. Ignorance was bliss, but she couldn't change the reality. She would not even try. Maybe, in the final analysis, she and Matt had always been better friends than lovers.

Jenn and Lisa began to spend more and more time together. Although they both still worked, most of their off hours were spent in one another’s company. Hours were consumed over coffee, learning and sharing secrets. Lisa admitted to being blatantly self-indulgent. She had always been willing to try anything new and exciting. She knew what she liked and went after what she wanted. She told Jenn that she always had and still did. Calling herself a crass materialist, she explained how she loved the feeling of ownership. She didn't need to flaunt her possessions or parade them, she just adored the concept – knowing what she had – knowing what was hers. It remained unspoken but Jenn understood and accepted that she herself was, for the present, Lisa's. Lisa reminded her constantly by keeping the relationship very tactile; she kept continually in physical contact with Jenn, even when out in public; a hand here, a pat there, touch, feel. And most nights, so it seemed, were spent in increasingly demanding sapphic love.

Jenn had never realized how sheltered and middle-class her life had always been. Lisa knew of alien worlds hidden in the city – more, besides those Jenn had glimpsed on her bicycle explorations. Jenn felt her horizons rapidly expanding as Lisa took her to all kinds of bars and clubs – places she had never been, never even knew existed.

One evening, they were in a semi-sleazy bar sipping beer in the dim and noisy smoke. It was a pub with a small, lighted stage at one end. Although it wasn't being used at the moment, Jenn realized it was the kind of stage on which "peelers" would do their things. As she looked around the place, a flushed smile crept onto her face. Jenn enjoyed being in this loud, exciting world – so different from what she had known before; but the smile and the heat, she knew, were mainly from Lisa's fingers dancing lightly up and down her thigh. The lights dimmed and a scruffy fellow stepped onto the stage with a mike. Surprisingly enough, the crowd hushed slightly as he began to speak. "Ladies and Gen'lemen – especially you ladies – here's your chance. It's..." The crowd began to murmur in anticipation. "Wait for it –" the man growled, "It's Amateur Hour!" The crowd cheered and whistled, as the man encouraged them with gestures and incomprehensible words in the PA. Finally, he settled the audience enough to continue. "I was given the name of our first contestant, earlier this evening. Soooo," he scanned the crowd, pausing for a moment when his eyes fell on Lisa.

Jenn shivered as Lisa gave her thigh a meaningful squeeze beneath the table. "Is she really going up there?” Jenn wondered silently, taking her eyes off the barker to gaze admiringly at Lisa who watched the stage passively.

"Lay-deez and gen'lemen, a warm hand for first-timer – Jenn Anderson!" Jenn's blood turned to ice as the crowd roared their anticipated approval. She whirled her gaze back to the emcee just as the paralysis of shock petrified her. Lisa took her wrist and raised her hand over her head. Slowly, woodenly, she turned and met an impish sparkle in Lisa's eyes. "Come on up here, Jenn," the host called.

"Go on," Lisa whispered, "it'll be fun."

"I can't," Jenn hissed through gritted teeth.

"Sure you can."

"I – I – how could you...?" Perspiration jumped onto her face. Her underarms were suddenly soaked. Her voice quavered and she felt she was about to cry. "I can't – really."

Lisa, gently lifted Jenn to standing, as she said soothingly, "I know you can." Then, gesturing with her hand, she turned to the crowd and said in a loud voice, "Whadya think, guys?"

The place exploded in whistles and cheers and shouts urging her to expose herself!

Jenn's knees wobbled like jelly; she felt her bladder was about to let go; she had never felt such acute fear in her life. She stared about her, looking desperately for refuge. "Listen to that. You wouldn't want to frustrate them, now, would you?" Lisa asked in a low calm voice. She then added, "I'm counting on you, Jenn. Don't disappoint me."

Suddenly Jenn pulled herself together. She straightened her shoulders and looked briefly at Lisa, giving her a brave grin, before setting her jaw and turning to the low stage. For reasons she could neither understand nor explain Jenn felt that it was very important for her not to disappoint Lisa, more important in fact than either her pride or her fear. Her mind numb, Jenn moved mechanically onto the carpeted platform that served as a stage. She turned to face the crowd and stared intently into Lisa's softly laughing eyes. Her own eyes spoke of abject horror; she felt desperately helpless – caught in circumstances so alien as to be unimaginable. As the audience began a rhythmic clapping, Lisa gave her the A-OK sign. Jenn, then, began to sway more or less to the music, of which she was only vaguely aware. The noise of the audience surged again. "Take it off!" they yelled, "Take it all off!" Although her consciousness was terrorized, her subconscious acknowledged the appreciation of the gathered patrons. Her frozen veins slowly warmed in spite of her numbed trance. Her agitation melted into insensate resignation. The dance had begun.

As her movement intensified her mind reeled. Gradually, her stunned swaying built, and as she writhed to the throbbing music, kicking her shoes off, she heard a voice – clearly piercing the din – scream, "Show us yer tits!" Like being hit by a fever, her cold fear flashed white-hot. Spots danced before her eyes and she violently pulled her top over her head, baring her boobs to the smoke and the crowd and the noise. Once again, an explosion of sound detonated in the audience. Warm and terrified, she felt herself to let loose, and flew about the stage, while she fought to release the buttons on her jeans without interfering with the wild gyrating response to the overpowering music. She moved like someone possessed. Her eyes were everywhere and nowhere; although she only saw Lisa, she looked at everyone – each and every one of them.

She felt herself falling into an abyss. She didn't know why she was doing it; she felt suddenly a paragon of exhibitionism. But it was all for Lisa. She dropped her jeans and tried, with only limited success, to jump out of them with losing her rhythm or her grace. Dancing back and forth across the stage, Jenn swiveled her pantied hips and cupped her breasts suggestively. The obvious appreciation of the crowd fired her growing confidence. Thrusting her sheer lace-covered mound toward the crowd, she tweaked her nipples. She felt an excitement that had been hitherto unknown to her. Sweat glistened and sprayed as she twirled. She felt like she was approaching meltdown. She had lost all inhibition – all sense of propriety and shame. Grabbing the crotch of her panties, she began to pull, and continued to do so inexorably to the spontaneous chanting of the audience. Reaching the limit of its strength, the thin material finally let go and she tore the shredded garment from her hips, tossing it nonchalantly into the erupting crowd.