Twenty Years to Life Ch. 02

"God, I'm sorry," Torrie said.

"Don't be. I should've done this a long time ago. I mean, I've got enough money in the trust fund my grandmother left me to get me through for a while. The rent on the apartment is paid for the next six months, so I'm not going to be homeless any time soon. But I guess since I'm graduating in a couple of weeks, I had better start looking for a job of my own. And you know something . . . I'm kind of excited. For the first time, it's MY life."

"Congratulations. On graduating," Torrie said. "And on having your own life and all."

"I was kind of hoping you'd be there for commencement, but I guess that's up to the doctor."

"I'd love to," Torrie said. "Be there . . . for . . . commencement."

Isabel smiled. She leaned in, almost afraid that Torrie would move away. But the pink-haired girl stayed right where she was, her lips quivering with anticipation. And when Isabel finally kissed her, she almost melted. It was the most perfect kiss ever.

"Ahem," came a voice from the doorway.

Isabel was blushing furiously when she turned her head and noticed Mr. X . . . Dr. Smythe standing in the doorway.

"If you two are QUITE finished," he said, "Ms. Jones's parents are waiting in one of the offices. Ms. Turner, if you'd like, you could escort our young . . . friend . . . to room 412."

Both girls started to giggle as Dr. Smythe left, but it didn't stop Isabel from kissing her . . . friend . . . again.

"So, are we going to be okay?" she asked.

Torrie smiled. "I think so," Torrie replied.

"Then would it be inappropriate to say that seeing you tied to a hospital bed was kind of a turn on?"

Torrie almost choked on her laugh. She took Isabel's hand, just as Jeremy returned with her coffee.

"Sorry I'm late. Long line. Did I miss anything?"

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A little while later . . .

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It had been a fairly informative meeting with Dr. Smythe. Torrie's parents and friends were all allowed to stay. The doctor explained that Torrie was suffering from a fairly uncommon form of clinical depression. He explained the depression didn't just mean "sad" as most people assumed, though many of the visible symptoms were the same. In Torrie's case, her body tended to exist at a perpetually low level of physiological arousal. He explained that it was almost the opposite of an adrenaline high which people got when they were really excited or had been physically exerting themselves. Unfortunately, people suffering from this type of depression generally didn't know they had it and really couldn't figure out what, if anything, was wrong. They simply showed less interest in day to day things that they normally would have enjoyed. There was a reduced sense of purpose and very little personal drive. People had two general reactions to this condition. They either exhibited sociopathic behavior in attempt to get their adrenaline levels up and feel vaguely normal, or they collapsed in upon themselves. That was what had happened to Torrie. Torrie realized that the only thing that had kept her from going off the deep end months ago was the excitement of being with Isabel, and that one moment of rejection had added a psychological component to her problem. She simple didn't want to feel anything anymore, so there was no reason to resist the blackness.

Dr. Smythe surmised that Torrie's affliction had probably begun shortly after high school. What had started as a genuine desire to just take some time off had unfortunately masked the onset of the condition. Apparently, Torrie hadn't been suicidal that day she walked into traffic. She had simply stopped caring. The medication he had prescribed her prevented the reuptake of certain neurotransmitters and helped stabilize some chemicals in her brain. And the best thing for her would be to become active again. Exercise would help her body, to some degree, deal with the problem naturally. And if she led an active, healthy lifestyle like she had before and if her friends and family helped her stick with it, she would be able to reduce the amount of medication, though never quite getting off of it. Torrie should be able to live a perfectly normal, happy life. But her friends and family would HAVE to keep an eye on her. People with Torrie's type of depression often stopped doing the things that helped them just because they didn't necessarily realize anything was wrong until they were too far gone to do anything about it or they thought that they had everything under control. He made sure to point out that Torrie would need to lead a somewhat "disciplined" life after that. Isabel had tried very hard not to smile. But Dr. Smythe didn't see any reason why Torrie couldn't go home that very day. He made sure she understood what she was supposed to do, wrote her a prescription for the medication and made an appointment to see Torrie again. He gave Isabel a quick wink, then Torrie's parents drove her home.

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A few weeks later . . .

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Torrie was deciding that she liked Dr. Smythe's form of "therapy." She had lost her job at the gas station, but her parents insisted she take some time and have some fun before looking for a new one. They obviously felt guilty about not catching on earlier that something was amiss, but she kept telling them that there was no way they could have known. She had actually spent the first day at home getting her room cleaned up. Torrie had no idea how she could have let it get that bad. In the days that followed, her parents forced her to call her friends, grab her longboard and head out to the beach. So she found herself lying in the sun, Isabel rubbing lotion into her skin while hanging out with her friends. She hadn't realized how much she missed it. The surfing, the sun, the sand . . . and the friendship.

Torrie also realized that while Frank and Jeremy had pretty much accepted that Torrie and Isabel were still together, Rachel didn't trust the girl. At some point, Frank and Jeremy headed out to the waves, so Torrie asked Isabel if she wouldn't mind grabbing her a diet-soda from one of the venders. She kissed the girl, then watched her walk across the sand. 'Damn, she looks good in a bikini,' Torrie thought, her mouth watering. Yep, she was turning back into her old self again. She wondered how long it would be until they had "the talk." She knew Isabel was probably very nervous about returning to the physical part of their relationship. Even Torrie was a little concerned about what was going to happen. But she would cross that bridge when she came to it. Then Torrie turned to Rachel.

"You're still mad at me, aren't you?"

Rachel was lying next to her, looking quite delicious in her own bikini. She rolled onto her side. "Yes bitch!" she said, actually cracking a bit of a smile, "you're supposed to tell me everything! How could you be dating some rich chick like her and not tell me?!?" As upset as Rachel was that her best friend had been hiding something, she was happy to see the change in Torrie's attitude.

"Hey, you never told me about you and Frank," Torrie replied, grinning a bit evilly.

"What?!?" Rachel exclaimed. "I don't know what you're . . . I mean, what makes you think . . ."

"Rachel, I've apparently been depressed, not stupid. I mean, do I look like your brother? I actually have had SOME clue as to what was going on."

"Jeremy doesn't know, does he?" Rachel asked, momentarily distracted.

"No. Frank's still alive, so I'm assuming Jeremy hasn't figured it out yet. And no, I'm not going to tell him. I understand that sometimes, you have to keep secrets."

"That was sneaky of you."

"I'm like that. Listen, Isabel and I kept it secret because she never outed herself. There's a lot of family stuff on her side that I can't really explain, but I accepted those reasons. And I really want the two of you to get along. So give her a chance, okay? I mean, her dad is still pissed at her and the rest of her friends have abandoned her. The only one still talking to her besides me is her mom, and her mom is still freaking out. It has to mean something that she's the only thing that was able to get through to me in a long time and make me feel normal."

"Okay, okay. I'll play nice. At least you picked someone cute. You KNOW what Jeremy's going to be thinking about though."

"What?" asked Isabel, who had just wandered up.

"Just so ya know," Rachel said, "my brother has a thing for Torrie here."

"Does he know she's gay?"

"Yeah, that's part of the attraction I think."

"Ah," said Isabel. "One of those."

"Yep, one of those. Periodically, I let him use my place for sex, and that shithead keeps stealing my underwear. As long as he leaves me alone . . ."

Out in the waves, Jeremy was figuring out how he was going to work off some energy. Seeing Torrie alive again was cool, but seeing her getting suntan lotion rubbed in by a hot babe in a bikini was almost more than his brain could stand. He'd been flirting with a number of girls, and his best looking prospect was a tight little oriental chick in a string bikini. He put the flirting into high gear, hoping to insure his evening score as quickly as possible. A few smiles, a few jokes and the promise of a few drinks, and he was set.

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That evening . . .

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'I sure know how to pick 'em, don't I?' Jeremy thought to himself. He had been driving his hot oriental chick home from the bar when she decided she wanted to try fellatio in a moving vehicle. She had his dick out of his pants by the time they were out of the parking lot.

"It's so fuckin' big," the girl said.

"It's all yours sweetie," Jeremy said.

The girl, whose name was Adrienne, quickly proved herself to have some skills. Even in her slightly drunken state, she was approaching his cock like a science experiment, trying to measure things out in her head before she stuck it in her throat. As he got his car up to speed, she took the head of his massive pole in her mouth and blew a warm puff of air down the shaft. She wrapped both hands around the base so she could stroke it while she worked the head between her lips and flicked it with her tongue. Her head began bouncing like a pogo stick, taking about half of his rod into its depths on every pass. He grabbed the back of her head and helped push it down a little, forcing more of his beef into her sweet face.

Jeremy was beginning to wonder if he would last until he got back to Adrienne's apartment. The girl gave good head. He felt her tongue dragging along the sensitive undercarriage of his penis as her head bobbed up and down.

"Fuck baby, you better slow down. You're too good at that."

After another long, slow descent, she let his dick out of her mouth. "Don't worry. I can get ANYTHING hard again. I want ride this thing all night long."

Trusting her to make good on her promise, he just let her get back to her thing. Just as he was pulling into the parking lot for Adrienne's apartment complex, she managed to fit almost the whole thing into her throat, and he starting spurting his seed. Wave after wave course through his cock, and he held Adrienne's head in place as she tired vainly to swallow it all. He heard some mild coughing noises and quickly released his grip on her head.

"Where do you store it all?" Adrienne asked. "I've never known one guy . . ."

"Baby, I've got an endless supply of the stuff. Good for whatever ails ya."

"We'll see about that," she said with a grin, reinserting his still-sticky penis back into his pants and slowly zipping him up. She led him up to the apartment, and instantly found herself wrapped up in his arms from behind.

"Let it never be said that I didn't know how to treat a lady," he said, using his sexiest Barry White voice. He was impressed by the girl's body as he felt her muscles underneath his hands. It was the type of body that had made him so enamored with Torrie. 'Okay, stop that right now,' he thought. 'Let's have fun with this girl and not think about the one you can't have.' He had gotten her shirt and bra off and was feeling her small tits. She was grinding her mini-skirt-clad butt against his jeans, trying to stir his semi-rigid member back to life. He put one hand on her back and pushed her forward until she was bent in half, her black thong now clearly visible as her skirt rode up her ass.

Jeremy got down on his knees and kissed her panties, dragging his tongue across the moist fabric and causing her to "ooh" with delight. He reached under the skirt and grabbed the sides of her underwear, dragging them down to her ankles. "Sweet and juicy," he said. "Just how I like 'em." He began licking the bottom-most portion of her slot while inserting three fingers from one hand into the box. He spread his fingers out as wide as they could go, then he pushed them together again and forced them as deep as he could into her paradise. He teased the sensitive area between her asshole and her pussy with his tongue. She slapped his other hand away as he started tracing a finger around her sphincter. 'Okay, no trips down that road with this girl. Oh well, there's still fun to be had.' Jeremy actually enjoyed eating pussy, just for the way it made the girl's body squirm. He thrust his tongue a little deeper into her box while he thumbed her clit. Then he pulled his tongue back out and went back to some hardcore penetration with his fingers. He was sinking in three fingers all the way to the knuckled when she began to squire, her juices flying everywhere due to the rapid motion of his hand.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" she said, over and over again. Since she was bent in half, she poked her head between her own calves until she had his member directly in her sights, taking it into her mouth and sucking gently, coaxing it back to life.

Jeremy appreciated her efforts, and rewarded her by continuing his oral attack. This time he used only his tongue and lips, playing relentlessly with her slick, fleshy bits. By the time Adrienne had his cock at full mast in her mouth again, he had brought her to a second orgasm.

"I think you should be nice and ready now," he said, staring at her cum-covered cunt. He stood up and without any further fanfare inserted his thick shaft into her pussy.

"It's so fucking big," she said, hooking her legs around him and digging her heels into his ass.

'I should get that printed on a tee-shirt,' he thought as he filled her box. She was tighter than any girl he'd been with recently, so he took his time. Having already cum once, he knew he could enjoy the ride the second time. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to a standing position and then, while still standing behind her, lifted her off her feet and began to hammer into her. She curled her legs back so that the fronts of her feet were resting on his calves, then just let him pound away at her as if she were just his fuck-doll.

He put her down and pulled out of her, letting her swing around and face him. Then he picked her up with his powerful arms and, as she directed the head of his penis into place, slid her back down onto it. She wrapped her legs around him as he continued to fuck her like it was going out of style; hard and fast. She was issuing a series of guttural grunts as his cock stretched her opening and his balls slapped against her ass. After a bit, he started to tire and let her butt rest on the back of the sofa. She leaned back until her shoulders were resting on the cushions and he was fucking downwards into her. She lifted her legs until they were parallel with his chest, and he grabbed them so he could use them for leverage.

It didn't take long before he had her cumming for the third time. Her box was tight enough during normal intercourse. When in the midst of climax, even the mighty Jeremy had to stop his thrusting out of fear of having his prize possession ripped off. He was looking down at her body, paying special attention to her clearly defined abdominal muscles straining under her skin. They looked like Torrie's abs did, in a way he wished he could see them. That thought was enough to top him off. With her vaginal opening clamping down, his dick pulsed and sent a stream of goo down inside her.

"You were just too much for me baby," he crooned as he filled her up. He pulled out and slapped the kitty a couple times with his softening member.

"You're everything I thought you'd be," Adrienne replied. "I'd LOVE to have another go at that monster in your trousers."

"Gimme your number and I'll call you," he said. He knew he wouldn't call her, nor would she actually expect him to. It was just another step in the one-night-stand-tango that people like them danced.

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Across town . . .

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Torrie was sitting on her couch with her completed applications to the community college's welding program spread out on the coffee table. She was trying to catch up on all the reading she had missed in the prior months. She had finished the book Isabel gave her, then had picked up some more work of Lovecraft's at a used book store and was halfway through one of them when she heard a knock on the outside door. She got up, wondering who would be dropping by this late. It was Isabel.

"Can I come in?" the dark-haired beauty asked.

"Sure . . . absolutely . . . you don't even need to ask," Torrie said nervously. This was the first time Isabel had ever actually been inside that room and Torrie suddenly wished she had spent more time tidying up. She actually began to pick things up when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay. I just wanted . . . wanted to talk to you. Is this a good time? I could come back . . ."

"No! I mean yes you can come back, but now is fine too." She offered Isabel a seat and a soda, which the other woman accepted and declined, respectively.

Isabel sat on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something. It's been running through my mind since before . . . that night."

"Listen . . ."

"No, let me finish. I'm sorry I said those things to you. As I said, you're the only one who gets it . . . who understands me. And I don't want to give up what we had. I don't think I could." She grabbed Torrie by the hand and tugged on it, motioned her friend to sit next to her. "But I realized that there was something else I wanted. Remember how we used to talk? When I dropped by the store all the time? I missed that. I've really enjoyed being with you . . . and by 'you,' I mean Torrie Jones, not just my sexual slave. Your quirks, your mind, your almost unnatural knowledge of literature . . ." She stroked the top of Torrie's hand with her thumb as the girl snickered and blushed a bit. "Even before that night, I realized I missed all this stuff about you."

"But I like what we had. I . . . don't think I could have a . . . normal relationship! I knew what I wanted years before I even met you!"

"I know how you feel. I went and talked to . . . to a friend, and he made me realize something. I may not be able to be the type of mistress you want me to be. Because there are going to be times I don't want to control you. There are going to be times when I just want a girlfriend."

"Can I be both?" Torrie asked, obviously confused. "How . . ."

Isabel silenced her girlfriend with a kiss. "We need to set some rules," she said. "In this room or when your parents are around, you're your own master. And I was thinking we could pick one day each week were we could go do . . . you know, couple stuff. And sometimes, I may just need your advice, but we could do that on a per-case situation. And . . . I want you to spend some more time with your friends and doing stuff you like to do. Otherwise, it's business as usual. I'm not sure how it will work, or IF it will work, but I'd like to try. Are you okay with that?"