A New Alexandra Ch. 09

Without thinking, she'd unhooked her seatbelt. Alexandra fingered herself, her well-lubricated hole easily accommodating two fingers. She closed her eyes. "Alejandro" was on; Alejandra, Alejandra, her mind echoed.

The Jeep stopped. Traffic light. She opened her eyes.

"Enjoying yourself?" Kira's lascivious glare traveled down Alexandra's body. Alexandra moved her hand aside, showing her girlfriend the slick, smooth sex. "I'll take that as a yes. Want to enjoy it a little more?" Her voice barely carried over the music.

"Yessss."

"Open the center console. There's a tube of lipstick."

The light changed and Kira looked away. Alexandra began fingering herself again, biting her lower lip. Her free hand drifted to her chest, twisting a nipple between thumb and forefinger.

Low moans escaped her as the world simplified itself: the thumping of a Lady Gaga bass line; the thrum of the engine; one hand rolling her nipple while two fingers of the other buried themselves inside her.

I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought. If you told me last summer I'd be finger-fucking myself in a moving car with my girlfriend, I'd look over my shoulder and see if you were talking to someone else. Now I'm doing it and loving it.

Alexandra pinched her other nipple while grinding her palm into her crotch. The flash of brief pain combined with the extra stimulation, unleashing an extra burst of sexual energy. Only the stereo covered the squelching emanating from between her legs.

The music's volume lowered. "No, seriously. Lipstick, center console."

Alexandra opened her eyes. "So?" she hissed.

"We're almost home. You want to win the bet, don't you?"

Yeah, and I was doing pretty well before your interruption. They stopped at another light. Kira glared at Alexandra, opened the center console, and pulled out a small gold tube.

"It's not lipstick, Alexandra."

Oh.

Oh. She wants me to win this "bet."

Kira pressed on the bottom of the tube. The stick buzzed, vibrating between the tips of her slender fingers.

"Go for it. I gotta drive."

Alexandra pressed the tip of the vibrator first to her stomach, feeling the surprisingly powerful buzz just above her waist.

A new rush of wetness surged between her legs. And I thought I was soaked before, she thought. Instinct took over and she slid the tip downward slowly, inch by inch until she felt the vibrations on her clit and around her pussy.

Holy shit. Yes. Fucking yes.

Her back arched as Alexandra's free hand again rose to her chest. "Fuck...Fffff...mmmm."

"Louder, slut. I want to hear you." Kira's voice had lost all softness. And I love it when she's that way.

"FUCK!" Alexandra spread her legs wide, her right heel landing on the dashboard. The vibrator pressed directly on her clit, sending pleasure signals through her whole body.

"Unnnnnnhhhh!" Her back muscles ached as the tiny toy drove her toward the peak of pleasure. Blood rushed to her center, muscles contracting in ecstasy.

Suddenly there was a hand under her ass, squeezing tightly. Alexandra opened her eyes. Kira wasn't even looking at her. She's just squeezing my ass like she owns it. Fuckkkkk.

The Jeep rounded a corner. Alexandra braced her body against the door, head thrown back, pressed against the cold windowpane.

"Harder," she said, loud enough to be heard over the music.

"I'm sorry," said Kira. "What was that?"

"My ass. Your hand. Harder."

Kira slackened her hand. "Say please, slut."

"Pleeeeease," Alexandra groaned. So...fucking...close. "Please squeeze my ass harder, Kira. Fucking please..."

The hand clamped down on Alexandra's cheek, nails digging in. A jolt of energy surged through her body. Even with her eyes closed, stars swam across her view.

"One minute, Alexandra. Time to cum, slut."

Alexandra's hips lifted, her body shaking. Only her hand remained steady, grinding the tiny vibrator against her aching clit. The orgasm hit all at once: her body spasmed; she bit her lip; she screamed through her closed mouth.

Kira raked her nails down Alexandra's ass.

"FUCK! YES! YESSSS!" she yelled.

The nails reached her thigh as the wave of pleasure crashed over her. She gasped for air, muscles inside her squeezing with every ounce of energy. The stars in her vision became fireworks, then faded to black.

One more turn of the wheel and they entered the underground parking area.

"Close one," said Kira, turning off the music. "But you're a winner. Now put your clothes back on, you absolutely gorgeous little whore. We have someplace to be."

--

Alexandra's legs were still wobbly when she exited the elevator. Even in her post-orgasmic fog, the horrendous hall carpet retained its usual charm.

"Wait here," said Kira, once inside the apartment. "I'll get the shower started. You've earned it."

Instead, Alexandra walked to the kitchen and ran a glass of water. Her hands shook as she sipped it, mind replaying what she'd just done. Jesus, what has happened to me? It's like this button got pushed within me and it's everything I can do to prevent myself from begging for even more.

She shed her clothes on the way to the bathroom. Kira stood in the doorway, a bemused look on her face.

"You've got the first shower. I'll heat up something to eat for when you come out."

Oh, right. Food. Yeah, after playing soccer and...well, that activity in the car, I probably should eat something before going to an event that will involve alcohol.

The shower refreshed Alexandra, but it also brought practical anxieties. What would she wear? How would she and Kira interact at the event -- underplay their relationship, or come clean to the team? What if the women just plain didn't like her? These were, after all, Kira's friends.

And then there's Mette. Who is apparently married to Meg, but who I still can't keep my mind and eyes off of. Just what I need, another crush.

She stepped out of the shower. Hurriedly toweled off. Thought about drying her hair but was distracted by the kitchen smells.

Kira had tossed two plates of gnocchi onto the table, a jar of pesto between them.

"Needed something quick."

Alexandra didn't bother to respond, shoveling the sauce-covered potato pasta into her face as fast as possible.

"Uh, guess I was a tad hungry."

"Me too," laughed her girlfriend, wiping sauce off her chin. "And if you don't want your hair to freeze to your head, you might want to dry it."

"Can I borrow your hair dryer?"

Kira rolled her eyes. "For fuck's sake, Alexandra. You don't need to ask. Yes." She stood up, clearing the plates.

Alexandra stood in the kitchen again, guzzling more water. Better.

In the bathroom, Kira's head was under the showerhead, her long fingers shampooing luxurious honey-blonde tresses.

"Kira?"

"Yes, dear?" Far cry from "slut" or "you absolutely gorgeous little whore," Alexandra thought.

"What's the dress code for this thing?"

"I bought you something. Your side of the bed."

"Is that one of these mysterious surprises?"

"Nope. Just some things you'd look good in. Now go dry your hair while I wash mine, missy."

Neatly folded on her side of the bed were a cream-colored sweater and a pair of black jeans. My normal brand and size, just a new color. Girl does details. Next to the pile sat something completely unexpected: a pair of black heels. Nine West, per the label. Chunky heel, but other than that mostly a series of straps, including one around the ankle. Wow. Um. Not the kind of thing I've worn before, and those things are what, four inches high?

She removed a bra and thong from her drawer. Sweater thick enough for a black bra underneath?

Yes, it was. Warm, soft. Cashmere, and most importantly, opaque. The jeans fit as expected: perfectly. Alexandra took a deep breath and slid the shoes on, buckling the ankle straps.

Fuck. They actually fit well. She's going to expect me to wear them.

The shower stopped.

Oh, right, I actually need to dry my hair.

Alexandra took off the shoes. Walked to the bathroom carefully, the sudden return to normal posture disorienting.

Kira stood outside the shower, dripping. "I see you found the outfit. Like it?"

"Yes."

"Including the shoes?"

"Yes. I think."

She flicked on the hair dryer. "We're sharing this. What does 'I think' mean?"

"Means that I'm not absolutely sure yet. But I know I want to give them a shot."

"Good girl. I know you'll look amazing. The jeans look...mmm."

"I know. They feel like that too," said Alexandra.

Kira slid her hand into the tight back pocket. "Now shut up. Let's somehow get our hair dry so we're not the last people there."

--

A snow flurry had begun while they were inside.

"Jeez, cold out," Alexandra said, cinching the belt on her jacket. Breath steamed in front of her face.

"Buckle up, buttercup, it's not even Thanksgiving. Speaking of, when are you flying home?"

"Tuesday night. You?"

"Wednesday. I'll drop you off," said Kira.

"No need. Flying from Midway, so I'll just take the bus over." Midway, convenient to class and my apartment, from back when I hadn't basically moved in with Kira.

Kira stuck out her lower lip. "It's going to be weird not seeing you."

"Yeah." Alexandra clomped along the sidewalk gingerly, unused to the height of the heels. "I'm considering telling my parents."

Kira laced an arm through her girlfriend's. "About?"

"You. Us. Me." Meaning, "I am considering coming out to my family and telling them that I'm dating a woman."

Kira said nothing for a long while. It was different walking arm-in-arm now, most of their height difference erased by the shoes.

"I came out at Christmas, five years ago." Kira said, blowing a cloud of hot breath into the night sky. The air smelled of chestnuts, roasted by a street vendor somewhere nearby. "My mom was pissed. I was glad to get the fuck out of there the next day and not see them for six months after that."

"So you're saying..."

Kira stopped. She kissed Alexandra's lips softly, her hand lacing through her girlfriend's hair. A warm sensation spread through Alexandra. Such a perfect touch. Perfect timing.

"I'm only saying that's what worked for me. In fact, if your parents aren't going to take it well-"

"They aren't. Him, at least. I don't know about her. Let's just say my father believes every one of the Catholic church's teachings on homosexuality."

"Yeah," replied Kira. "My mom's pretty conservative, too. Point is, Thanksgiving was my original plan too, but then I realized if I did it then, I'd be right back there in a month and she'd still be raging."

"Let's walk," said Alexandra. I hadn't thought of that perspective. Now, concentrate on not turning an ankle on this cracked sidewalk. "And talk about something else. Tell me more about our hostesses."

Kira exhaled deeply again. "Mette and Meg are the relationship I thought I always wanted," she said. "The life I thought I always wanted."

"Meaning?"

"Well," said Kira, stopping at a black door. "You're a big girl. See for yourself."

--

Mette and Meg's place turned out to be a three-story rowhouse. Brick exterior, light wood floors, minimalist décor. Most of the team had already gathered, spilling out of the open-plan kitchen and into the living area, where a fire flickered in the gas-fed fireplace.

"Drinks are in the kitchen," said Meg, taking Alexandra's jacket. She'd replaced her soccer uniform with a navy tunic dress and black tights, and she whizzed around the gathering with the efficiency of someone accustomed to hosting gatherings.

Kira split off halfway to the kitchen, catching a hug from Allison -- Wally, Alexandra's mind filled -- and leaving Alexandra alone.

Nice place. White cabinets, dark counters. Large kitchen island covered with all manner of drinks, alcoholic and otherwise. Wine glasses hanging from a rack above.

Alexandra pulled one down and removed the cork from a half-full bottle. Tannat, the label read. Never heard of it. But it's dark red and someone else is drinking it, so...

"So, New Girl, welcome to my house." Mette had snuck up behind her.

"Thank you," said Alexandra. Wow, um, she's...stunning. Even in her heels, Mette towered over Alexandra. Her dark hair was down now, a razor-sharp bob just below her chin. Same ice-blue eyes.

"Don't let me stop you. So, you're a red wine drinker?"

"I am," said Alexandra. "Usually the bolder, the better."

"You'll like that one, then." There is indeed a hint of an accent in there. And her name, Mette? "You played really well today, so if nobody else did, let me welcome you to the team."

Alexandra beamed. "Thanks. It's great to be...here. Um, your house, I mean. It's beautiful."

"It should be, considering what we paid to renovate it." She was wearing a poncho-style sweater, red wool with a blue cross outlined in white. Big bold eyebrows, no-nonsense hair, thought Alexandra. Tight lips, just like during the game. Not a smiler. "So, tell me. Outside of soccer, what do you do for fun?"

Alexandra poured the wine. Glad she didn't ask me what I do for work. "I'm a runner. I like to travel when I can, I guess. I read a lot, especially in winter."

"Read what?"

"Murder, mostly." She waited for a reaction from the taller woman and got one: a small, tight smile. "Violence in dark settings. Crime fiction."

Mette laughed now, her smile broadening to show glittering white teeth. "Well, now you're speaking my language, even if a fair amount of the crime fiction from dark settings I read is written in Norwegian. What are you reading right now?"

"The most recent Jo Nesbø, actually." Oh, duh, Alexandra. Her sweater is a fucking Norwegian flag.

"Yep, very dark. But very atmospheric, at least in Norwegian. Although I must say, sitting here in Chicago reading about winter in Oslo is actually hoping for a small upgrade, isn't it?"

"Don't know," said Alexandra. "Never been there."

"Oh, it's beautiful in the winter, said Meg, sliding up and placing her fingertips on her wife's arm. "Dark all the time, grey when it's not, and with some tropical-like winds off the fjord!"

"So, like Chicago?"

"I like you, New Girl." Clearly not her first glass of wine, competent hostess duties aside, thought Alexandra. "But no, Oslo winter is much better. And there's skiing nearby. Skiing beats frozen, empty cornfields in my book. So, I hope my wife was not giving you too much of a hard time?"

"No, actually we were talking about books. Specifically, the ones I read that you hate," replied Mette, returning her spouse's touch.

"Oh, no," said Meg. "New Girl. Don't tell me you're one of those."

Drunk, snarky, flirting? Alexandra's mind circled back. "I am, sorry to inform you."

"But at least you have great taste in shoes. Nine West, right?"

"Wow, yeah," said Alexandra.

"Ignore my wife, Alexandra. Meg spends about half her salary on shoes. She's probably got three pairs of that same shoe in her closet and only knows she has two." Mette stepped casually away from the island. "Come on, no need to stand by the bar."

"So, online or...where do you shop?" asked Meg.

"Actually, Kira got them for me," Alexandra responded. They were in the living room now. Flat-screen mounted on a bare brick-wall. Tasteful, subdued art. Once exception: a large reproduction album cover. The Eminem Show.

"Told you," said Mette, winking at her wife.

Oh.

She spoke to Alexandra next. "So, how long have you and Miss Manning been seeing one another?"

"A...about a month." Her eyes searched the room. Found Kira near the front door, arms crossed while Wally talked with her hands.

"And she's already introducing you to friends. You two must be doing well."

"I... I think so."

"I know so," said Mette. "I've known Kira for, what is it? Six or seven years? Six, I think. And she has literally never introduced me to anyone she was dating."

A lump formed in Alexandra's throat. "Well, she didn't exactly introduce me as..."

"Honey, please. As soon as you walked into the gym tonight, it was completely obvious."

Obvious how? And can Kira please come over here and save me?

"Anyway, what do you want to know about Kira Manning that she's not likely to tell you?" asked Mette, a flash in her eyes.

"What's her family like? Honestly, not what she'll tell me to avoid scaring me." It had slipped out without any thought.

Mette and Meg exchanged a glance. The poster. Mette and Meg. M and M. The Eminem Show.

"Kira's dad is Ken Manning," began Mette. She tucked a sheaf of dark hair behind her ear. More friendly that way, thought Alexandra. "He used to be my boss. He's now the managing partner of a major law firm's Houston office. Not the same firm I work at nowadays, but that doesn't matter. Ken's also the former general counsel of an oil company and was almost nominated to be Secretary of Energy. He's an absolutely brilliant lawyer and yet an incredible mentor."

"And her mom?"

"I don't know her as well. Only met her a couple times at firm events. But Patty is a former Miss Texas and hasn't worked a minute in her life, which probably tells you what you need. Do you know Houston well?"

"Not in the slightest," said Alexandra.

"Huge, sprawling city. The single nicest neighborhood is called River Oaks. That's where Ken and Patty Manning live." In other words, they are rich. Very rich. "Each year, our firm had a summer associate event hosted at a partner's house. My summer, it was at the Mannings'."

Meg looked on with a bemused expression, as if a punchline was coming.

Mette landed it. "Alexandra, their kitchen is the size of this entire floor. Their pool is the size of this entire floor. I know everything is bigger in Texas, but I swear, that is the nicest house I've ever seen."

Alexandra caught her breath. It had been obvious enough that Kira had some means; the casual, nothing-to-it gifts had tipped her off. But this image didn't match with a woman who drove a decade-old car and lived in a one-bedroom in a building with carpeting from the Nixon administration. What am I supposed to make of all that?

"Anyway," Meg added, winking, "probably plenty more Nine West in your future if you want it, lady. Or, you know, Ferragamo. Aim high, right?"

"Meg." Mette's tone was flat. "Kira's family has money. Don't get New Girl here thinking Kira herself is made of Benjamins."

Alexandra laughed, trying to defuse the situation. "I don't. I...well, I'm a middle-class girl from Pittsburgh, so I'm not even sure what Texas-style rich is, let alone expect it to come my way anytime soon."