A Girl Named Mitch Ch. 04

We've reached the end! Here is part four of four. If you haven't read the first three parts, you should do that first. As always, please rate comment and send feedback. All characters are over eighteen. Enjoy!

*****

Carl picked us up at ten the next morning, driving us back to his condo where Mitch threw her bags into her truck. Carl and Bridget went inside to give us some privacy. I'd managed to keep it together while we'd been packing up, but as soon as she pulled me into her arms I started to cry.

Mitch let me go for a few moments, stroking my hair as she held me. "Sweetie, hey, it's okay." She pulled away slightly, smiling and looking me in the eye before brushing a tear from my cheek. "It's not like I'm going to war. We'll be together again in just a few months."

I could hear the emotion in her voice, how she was trying to be the strong one. "I know." I forced myself to smile, and she pulled me close, rocking me gently.

"And when we do we'll have a big bed, and I'll have a kitchen to cook for you, it's going to be wonderful." I sniffled and let her hold me for another long moment, before she kissed my temple. "I love you, Cindy."

"I love you, too. I love you so much." I forced a smile. "Don't forget me."

Mitch grinned and kissed me. "People don't forget the love of their lives."

I let what she'd said sink in as she kissed me again, and let the truth of it surround me. It was probably somewhat naïve to assume you'd be with your college sweetheart forever, but in that moment I knew I would be. And that calmed me somewhat. What was three months in the face of a lifetime?

That didn't fully stop the tears, but I was able to keep a smile as I waved goodbye, watching her drive down the street and around the corner.

***

Despite any epiphanies I may have had in my brother's driveway, what followed were the longest three months of my life. I worked at the diner, I saw some of my old high school friends, and I hid. My mother was seemingly terrified of me becoming an old maid, always assaulting me with the latest gossip about who was available in our small town. And apparently she'd been shopping me around, too, as I was asked on no fewer than three dates in the first two days.

The easiest thing would have been just to say I was seeing someone, but Mom would have demanded details, and I was scared to put her on that trail. Dad treated me with his normal polite disinterest. He knew Mom was doing her best to get me respectably married off, and that was good enough for him. Any talk about how well my team had done was met with a dismissive "That's fine, Cindy."

I talked and texted with Carrie often, but less so with Mitch, just because of my fear. I hated talking to her when my parents were home, which was most of the time, and I definitely couldn't talk freely with Charlotte around. She was eleven, and in full 'snooping little sister' mode. But I did remember how Carl had helped me, so I decided to do as much as I could for her. Which, when you're a preteen, means taking you places. I'd drive her to friend's houses, the community pool, the local ice cream parlor, etc. I let her talk about her school. She was just starting to be aware of the opposite sex, and she asked me a lot about what college boys were like. I knew she wasn't going to get any useful information from our parents, so I tried to give her some solid advice that went beyond 'just don't do it'.

I thought about telling Tiwana, but she had gotten a summer job at one of the resorts on the coast, and I barely got to see her. Even that would have been scary, though. There are wonderful things about small towns, but there are some real downsides, too, the main one being that everyone knows everyone, and everyone is always aware of everyone else's business.

What I really hated was the fear. The constant, ever present anxiety that someone was going to find out I was a lesbian, and that the information would inexorably make it's way to my parents' ears. And what really bothered me was the wrongness of it all. I'd been taught since birth that homosexuality was wrong, immoral, against God's plan, and all that.

And it had all been bullshit. There was nothing more right than being with Michelle, loving and being loved by her. What had been wrong was trying to make relationships with guys I didn't love work, forcing myself to be intimate with men I had no desire for. God had made me exactly who I am, and He'd gifted me with a wonderful partner, who loved and supported me, who made me feel alive and vibrant in ways I hadn't known were possible.

I was with someone incredible, but I would be reviled, vilified and rejected just because of her gender, with no regard at all to how amazing she was. I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it.

One of my former classmates got married in June. We hadn't been close, but our parents knew each other so we went to the wedding and the little cake and punch reception afterwards. I had tears in my eyes as I watched Abigail's father walk her down the aisle. My mother had completely misread my feelings, patting me on the arm, stating "Don't worry, sweetheart, it'll happen. Y'know, there'll be plenty of nice young men at the reception."

Obviously that hadn't been my issue. It was that my father would never walk me down the aisle. My mother would never beam proudly as I posed in my wedding dress. They would do everything in their power to make me feel shame in my choice of partner, caring nothing about how happy I was, interested only in how my unnaturalness made them appear to our small town society.

I looked around the hundred and fifty or so people in the packed church, and wondered who else was hiding. Who was in a loveless marriage that they felt they had to keep up? Who'd been silently forced to give up their great loves to fit in to our bigoted, small-minded society?

Luckily there wasn't any dancing at the reception, but I still had several potential suitors chat me up. I smiled and made polite conversation, interjecting often how adverse I was to starting any summer romances before returning to campus.

It was Pride Month, and I didn't see a single rainbow flag in my town, which didn't surprise me at all. The news covered the parades in Atlanta, and Bridget sent me some pictures of a rally from downtown Savannah. My father would stoically roll his eyes when anyone would mention it, muttering under his breath about the degrading of our country's values.

July arrived and passed in much the same manner, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the calendar finally turned to August, so I could start counting the days instead of weeks and months. I know you're probably waiting for something dramatic to happen, but it never did. I did make the change to take my dad off of my accounts. I didn't hide it from him, but he didn't complain. And as soon as I had the money transferred I felt a huge wave of relief. Other than my dad still carrying me on his insurance and the family phone plan, I was completely financially independent.

The weekend before I was headed back to campus Carl came and picked me up, and as we pulled up to his condo I saw a blue truck sitting in his driveway.

"Surprise." Carl was grinning ear to ear, but my eyes were locked on the tall, dark-haired woman leaning against that truck, my smile stretching my cheeks as tears rolled down my face.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, almost jumping out of my brother's car before it stopped. Mitch was beaming, wearing that radiant grin of hers below her glorious blue eyes, and I threw myself into her arms, wrapping my legs around her waist as she twirled me around, whispering into my ear.

"God, I missed you, baby. Oh, I love you."

I slid my legs down so I was standing on my own two feet, holding tight to her. "I can't do that again. I can't be away from you like that again."

"I know. Next summer, we'll find a way. Promise." She brushed a tear from my cheek with her thumb and kissed me, and I whimpered in joy as our lips made contact for the first time in nearly three months. Suddenly I was whole again, and the world seemed to light up even as my eyes stayed closed.

Eventually we separated, and I giggled in response to the mischievous Mitch grin I was staring at.

"Hi."

"Hello. I missed you." I felt the knots created by the summer unwinding as she held me. "Did you miss me?" I looked up through my lashes at her, seeing the emotion raging in her eyes, even as she smirked at me.

"Sometimes." She kissed me on the forehead. "Most of the time." A kiss on the cheek. "Every second." She brushed the hair away from my face, and pressed her lips to mine. This kiss was less desperate, and I was able to enjoy it more, our tongues caressing each other as I savored her soft lips. When it ended I just leaned against her and let her hold me, taking in the smell of her, the feel of her breath in my hair. I was home, safe and loved, here in Mitch's arms.

"Hey, you two, we're going to order pizza. If you want any say in the toppings, come inside soon." Carl was smirking at us from the front patio, and I turned towards him without taking my arms from around Mitch's neck.

"Okay, go on."

Mitch gave me another kiss. "We should go in. Don't want them ordering a bunch of rabbit pizzas."

"Rabbit pizzas?" We started walking toward the front door, arms still around each other.

"Yeah, y'know, pizza with rabbit food on it. Like onions and green peppers."

"I love green peppers."

"God, I'm in love with a heathen."

I laughed and tightened my arm around her waist and we went inside.

***

Two nights later we were in our apartment, lying pressed together in our new bed, sharing soft kisses as our heart rates tried to return to normal.

I nuzzled into Mitch's shoulder. "Mmm, I missed that."

"You're not the only one. I've fallen asleep every night thinking about it."

"Really, little old me?"

She pulled me close, nuzzling into my hair. "Yeah, you. The way you smell, what it feels like to touch your skin." Her hands ran down my back and over my backside, making me sigh. "The adorable sounds you make. But mostly just being near you, holding you. I missed it every second." Her long arms let her trace a finger through my sex from behind, making me gasp and move closer, which, of course, let her go deeper as she kissed my neck. I was just starting to relax into it when she stopped.

"But seriously, fall break, you're coming home with me."

"You brat!" I slapped her shoulder. "You have to tell me that now?"

"Well, I have to tell you sometime. I've spent the last two summers talking about you. Mom and Dad will string me up without a proper introduction soon."

I giggled. "Mitch, I've met your parents." It was true. They'd been to a few of our matches, especially the ones in Florida. Her dad was, well, let's just say Mitch came by her bombastic personality honestly. Her mom was quiet, always smiling, the kind of woman you're just sure gives the best hugs.

I hadn't got to experience one, as we aren't supposed to go up into the stands on the road. They'd been very friendly to me in our brief interactions, but I'll admit I was nervous about spending more significant time with them.

Mitch turned on her side facing me. "They really want to spend some time spoiling you."

"Spoiling me?"

"Yeah. Mom'll feed you and buy you stuff, and Dad, well, Dad will let her."

I pouted my lips, letting my voice slip back into childhood. "What if they don't like me? What if I'm not good enough for their little girl?"

Mitch laughed. "Cindy, have you seen you? Or met you? You are not the one marrying up here."

I couldn't help my grin. "Marrying?"

Mitch was just wearing that confident little smirk. "Well, maybe someday. If you're good."

I ran a finger down her sternum. "You're the one who wants to marry up. Shouldn't you be good?"

"Well, shucks," Mitch rolled me onto my back, "I think you might be right." She began to kiss down my body, and I relaxed back into my new bedding as the woman I loved took me to heaven over and over.

***

I was floating as Mitch held me, my whole body buzzing at the intensity of what I'd been experiencing for the last two hours. Mitch's arm was around me, holding my breast as her thumb gently tracing one of my nipples. It felt lovely.

"Cindy?"

"Hmm?"

"I did want to ask you something, see if you wanted to try something."

"Mm, I don't think I could try anything else tonight."

She kissed the back of my head. "Not for tonight. Wait here." Mitch climbed out of bed and walked out into our living room. I propped myself up on my elbow so I could watch her impressive figure move. She came back into our bedroom carrying her laptop, climbing under the sheets but sitting up against the headboard.

"What are we looking at?"

"This." She clicked on a link, which brought up a group of pictures of women wearing, well, something. "Mitch, what is that?"

Her voice was unsure, very unlike her. "It's a strap-on."

I almost asked what it was for, but that was blindingly obvious. "You want to use that on me?"

Mitch answered quickly, putting her hand on mine. "Only if you want me to."

"Mitch, I'm not sure." The pain of being with Ethan swam back up into my consciousness. Mitch could obviously see it in my face, and her face was the picture of concern. She kissed the back of my hand.

"Cindy, when you were telling me about Ethan, about, y'know, well, I had so many fantasies of taking you with one of these, showing you how it's supposed to feel."

"What if it hurts?" My voice cracked a little as I spoke.

"Then we stop. But I don't think it will." I still wasn't sure, so she continued. "Cindy, do you like it when I put my fingers inside of you?"

The memory pushed away the fear, and I blushed. "Yeah. I love it."

"And when Ethan did?"

I breathed out and shook my head. "He didn't do it often. But, no."

"See what I'm getting at? I really think you'd like this, but it's your decision."

"Have you ever used one before?"

Mitch shook her head. "Nope. But I'm a quick learner. Unless it's math."

"Ha. Okay. I trust you."

We spent the next half an hour looking at the various options, comparing prices and reading reviews, until we finally settled on one that didn't look like a molded penis. It had two interchangeable sizes with a lot of texture on the phallus.

Mitch hit the 'order' button, and it was on its way.

Luckily I had things to distract me before it got here. On Monday we went shopping for groceries and other things we needed for the apartment. It's amazing how many little doodads you need in a real place. A shower curtain, a bathmat, dish towels, toilet paper, the list goes on and on. In all we dropped over two hundred dollars on food and sundries.

Carrie got in Tuesday morning, immediately heading over to check out our new digs, and we spent the afternoon watching the U.S. Open. Thanks to Mitch springing for Tennis Channel Plus we were able to stream any match we wanted to the T.V., which meant we spent over an hour watching Iryna Baraskova's first round match. Carrie wouldn't let us change the channel. She was absolutely transfixed. I guess we understand why now.

At the time I scowled at Mitch when she gave me a knowing look. I hate that she's always right about those things.

Barbara, the Freshman I'd mentored some last year, Carrie, and I were all having lunch on Friday, while I kept checking the line for Mitch. Eventually I saw her, and she gave me a kiss before sitting down with her tray.

Barbara set her fork down. "So what's everyone doing tonight?"

Carrie shrugged. "Should be some good welcome back parties. You guys in?"

Mitch shook her head emphatically. "Nope. We have plans."

I looked at her in consternation. "We do?"

"Yep." Mitch held out her phone to me, which was showing two notifications. One from UPS that our package had been delivered, and one from our building saying they were holding a package at the front desk.

An electric thrill ran through my body, my cheeks suddenly burning crimson. "Oh, yeah, our plans, yep." Oh, it was getting hard to breathe.

Barbara was incredulous. "Seriously? You two haven't broken in your apartment enough already?"

Mitch just flashed that self-satisfied smile. "Tonight's special. Or it will be." Her foot hooked around the back of my leg, making my blush deepen. "But you're all welcome over tomorrow afternoon to watch the Open. I'm making a blooming onion."

As soon as Mitch's last class was over we headed home, and the receptionist in the office handed over a small, nondescript brown box when we asked. Mitch just smirked at me as we walked hand in hand up to our apartment.

My mind was racing. What was going to happen when we closed the door? Was she just going to take me? Most of the time I didn't mind that, but today I was really nervous. Mitch could usually tell what I needed, though, and today was no exception.

I closed and locked the door behind us as she set the package down on the counter. She closed the distance between us and kissed me deeply, my nervousness flowing away like it always did when we touched, and my body began to respond.

"You hungry, baby?"

I nodded. I'd just picked at my lunch after realizing what was waiting for me back at the apartment.

"Okay, I'll make some dinner. Go relax." We shared another quick smooch, and Mitch headed into the kitchen and pulled out a large pot, beginning to fill it with water. My eyes found the package, still sitting benignly on the counter. I gingerly picked it up, like it might contain a bomb or a live cobra. I turned it around in my hands, but barring the spontaneous development of X-ray vision I wasn't going to be able to see anything unless I opened the silly thing.

I took it over to the couch, using my keys to slit open the tape. I glanced up at Mitch, who was happily working away in the kitchen, before pulling the blue and purple package out of the box.

It was surprisingly light, just in a blister pack. The two phalluses, both a light blue, were prominently displayed. One was eight inches long and thick, while the other was two inches shorter and more slight.

The actual straps were black, with an O-ring in the front where the phalluses slipped through. It was definitely my mathematical mind trying to distract me here. If I could figure out exactly how the thing worked maybe it would scare me less.

"So what do you think?"

I jumped at Mitch's voice, before laughing at her amused expression. I ran my finger over the plastic still covering the larger phallus. "It's big."

"I think you can handle it." She nodded towards the stove. "I've got spaghetti on the stove and sauce simmering with the meatballs. Gotta carbo-load for tonight." She popped her eyebrows at me.

I answered, trying to be playful, but it came out more scared. "You'll be gentle, right?"

"Of course. And if you say stop, we'll stop. Promise me you'll say to stop if you want to. Don't suffer through for me. Remember, my fantasy is about you loving this, so if you don't it won't be any good for me, either." Her brilliant blue eyes bored into mine and I nodded. She went back into the kitchen, and I split open the package plastic, pulling out our new toy. The feel of the soft but firm plastic was similar to what I remembered of the real thing, but at the same time it wasn't going to fool anyone. I took a deep breath. This was one of Mitch's fantasies, and I wanted to give it to her. And maybe she was right, maybe it would be different. Everything else was.

We had a lovely dinner. You can really improve the flavor of even frozen meatballs by simmering them in the sauce instead of just baking them, according to Mitch, anyway. She also lit candles, which hadn't been allowed in the dorms. The whole apartment smelled amazing.