California Girl

This is a sequel to "Marnie." This story stands alone, though it will give this story greater context if you read the first story.

Thank you to Bob Aganoush for his thoughtful comments.

Note to readers: This is primarily a lesbian love story, but there are a few vignettes involving heterosexual sex. The story just wanted to go there ... so it did. I hope you enjoy it.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

Chapter One

Going to California

Her heart was thumping in her chest as the Boeing 777 made its final approach to LAX. Los Angeles ... the City of Angels. The young Irish woman craned her neck to look through the delicate patterns of ice crystals on the airplane's window, trying to spot swimming pools and palm trees in the endless urban vista below. The jumbo jet made a wide sweeping circle and then came in from the north, passing over Hollywood and Santa Monica, before landing. As the jet's reverse thrusters slowed the plane to a gentle roll, it finally dawned on Marnie that she had separated physically and emotionally from Lauren, her first and only love.

It had been a difficult month, between the debacle with Pamela Wentworth, the head of the English department at Marnie's former school, Trinity University in Dalkey, and Marnie's tearful departure at Dublin Airport. Her partner and mentor, Lauren, was more overwrought than Marnie, even though it was Marnie who was severing ties with the only life she knew. At twenty-six, she had spent her entire life in Dalkey, a sleepy tourist town just south of Dublin, hugging the coast of the Irish Sea, and though she met many Americans in the pub her family owned, she had never visited the United States. There were six generations of Dunlavy's that lived in Dalkey, and Marnie was the first in her family to relocate outside the familiar confines of Ireland.

Marnie tried to read and sleep on the long international flight, but she could do neither, rather her thoughts always returned to Lauren. Their relationship was always destined to be star crossed, Lauren being Marnie's professor and faculty advisor for her doctoral candidacy in English. But the gravitational pull of their attraction to each other proved to be irresistible for both of them, and in the end it was their undoing as well, as Pamela Wentworth got wind of the relationship and used it as leverage to extract an intimate sexual favor from Marnie. Marnie's exploitation by the heavyset sixty year old woman made an emotional scar that ran deep.

Though badly bruised emotionally, she was still a beautiful young woman, at the full blossom of youth. Her pale white skin contrasted against her curly auburn red hair that fell past her shoulders. Freckles were scattered about on her narrow face and nose. Her breasts were pressing against her white cotton top, with the gentle rounding that comes with a large natural bust. She was a shade above average in height, her skinny jeans hugging her muscular legs. She was to find herself welcome in America. After all, beauty was (and is) an internationally understood language.

Excitement coursed through her veins as the bell chimed signaling that passengers were free to get up out of their seats and deplane. The misty cliffs of Dalkey, the restless Irish Sea ... and of course Lauren, were temporarily put to the back of her mind as she retrieved her hand luggage from the overhead compartment. She was in California. She had seen so many movies set in California, from its rugged northern coastline to the blacktop jungle of Los Angeles. Now she was going to live there, and the prospect excited her immensely.

A young man in the row behind Marnie smiled at the comely redhead as they stood in the aisle, side by side, almost touching. He was of course blond and good looking and when he said "Hey" in a decidedly American accent Marnie knew she arrived in California. She wrestled with her roller bag as she made her way up the aisle of coach seats, then with envy past business class. She wondered what it would been like to have the legroom to recline flat instead of being crammed into an economy seat for a thirteen and a half hour flight. A woman in a smart airline uniform directed her off the plane and down a long corridor ending in an enormous room containing a morass of weary travelers waiting to clear customs.

She waited patiently in a long line that snaked back and forth, watching the people all around her and noticing the first traces of American culture, from the large lighted ads for popular soft drinks, to the "UCLA" and "USC" t-shirts that seemed to surround her. When it was finally her turn she looked expectantly through the thick plexiglass partition separating her from the United States Customs officer. He was a tall Asian, with a serious look on his face. He scanned her passport, then looked directly into her eyes.

"What's the purpose of your visit to the United States?"

Marnie tried not to be nervous, knowing she had nothing to be nervous about. "Education. I'm here to complete my doctorate at UCLA."

Unimpressed, he looked at her passport again and stamped one of the back pages.

"Welcome to the United States."

He then waved for the next person in line.

Marnie had to remind herself to move.

Getting to baggage claim, Marnie had never seen such organized chaos. She thought she heard at least a dozen different languages as she made her way to her baggage carousel. Anxiously, she watched the stream of bags being dumped on the conveyer belt. It was a relatively short wait before she spotted her suitcase, one that belonged to her late mother. She snatched the bag off the moving metal panels and put it on a rented cart along with her roller bag. She couldn't believe her life could fit into two pieces of luggage.

She spotted the one way doors to the public area of the terminal. She remembered: brown hair, medium height, slender build from the picture she had on her phone She quickly scanned the wall to wall people outside the secure area that were yelling and waving their arms. Half of the women she saw fit that description. Marnie thought it was hopeless, standing aside as passengers streamed past her.

"Marnie!" a voice called out. Marnie scanned the crowd and saw a woman waving her arms who looked like the woman in the picture that was texted to her. She walked towards her until they were next to each other.

"Marnie. So glad to meet you," the middle aged woman said breathlessly. The woman was Emily Vandebroek, Marnie's sponsor. Emily belonged to an international organization that provided housing to college students traveling to foreign countries. Emily was generous enough to offer her daughter's bedroom to Marnie for the duration of her studies at UCLA. Her daughter had recently left home to attend a small college in Pennsylvania, where she received a full four year scholarship. Emily was a UCLA alum, so she looked forward to helping someone who was attending her alma mater. It was a perfect match, because Emily's house, in the toney suburb of Brentwood, was within walking distance of the UCLA campus.

Emily was somewhat stunned at Marnie's appearance. Marnie had sent her a slightly out of focus selfie, and it did no justice to the beautiful woman she was looking at.

"Marnie ... you're ... uh ... much lovelier than your picture," Emily said, while admiring Marnie's thick mane of red hair and her curvy body. Emily's appearance paled in comparison to her new tenant. She was in her forties, but she was as plain as plain could be, despite the concerted efforts of her stylist, wardrobe consultant and make-up specialist. But her heart was good and true, and her true beauty was on the inside.

"Oh, thank you Mrs. Vandebroek," Marnie said in a thick Irish brogue.

"Please call me Emily."

Emily was even besotted by Marnie's accent. She sensed that Marnie, as innocent as she appeared, was going to be big trouble in the enclave of Brentwood. A woman of Marnie's beauty would be chum in a pool full of sharks.

"Here, let me take your roller bag dear. My car's across the street in the parking structure."

Emily took hold of the handle to the bag, wondering if she would find that "no good deed goes unpunished."

* * *

The drive from the airport to Emily's Brentwood home was an eye opener for Marnie. The main northbound artery, US 405, was a freeway in perpetual gridlock. Emily's tricked out Land Rover crawled along as Marnie surveyed the ocean of cars jam packed in both directions. She rolled the window down, and felt the warm salt tinged air wafting in, a stark contrast to the cold, damp air that was omnipresent in Dalkey.

They eventually got on side roads to Brentwood, where Marnie saw spacious well-kept houses and manicured lawns. They drove by the edge of the UCLA campus before pulling into the driveway to Emily's house.

"It's so beautiful here," Marnie exclaimed as she exited the passenger side. She looked at a perfect slice of Southern California. Estates lining both sides of the road. Wispy clouds floating in azure skies. She thought she was in heaven.

The front door of the modern glass and steel structure opened and Samuel Vandebroek, Emily's husband of twenty years, stood in the entranceway. Samuel was from study Dutch stock, tall and lean with thinning blond hair. Emily watched with keen eyes to see his reaction to Marnie's physical appearance. As she suspected, he reacted as he always did when in the presence of a beautiful woman. He started to stutter.

"You mu... mu .. must be Marnie," he choked out. He couldn't believe what a vision of loveliness had exited the passenger side of the car. He thought she looked like one of the women that graced the cover of one of Emily's romance novels. Emily was already fuming inside at her husband's reflexive juvenile behavior. She could have sworn she saw his pants throb.

"I am. Pleased to meet you Mr. Vandebroek. You look much taller than in the picture I have."

Samuel's chest puffed out at the compliment. Emily watched the interchange and wanted to retch.

"Well, Samuel, don't just stand there. Help Marnie with her bags," Emily said in a scolding tone. Samuel knew that his stutter betrayed his immediate reaction to the Irish beauty. His shoulders drooped and he dutifully picked up both of Marnie's bags and followed the two women into the house.

"So I'll have to take you to the beach," said Emily as they stepped into the entranceway, graced with a contemporary chandelier and modern art. Marnie's head was on a swivel as she followed Emily, drinking in the luxurious accommodations. The expansive kitchen with a large center island was to her left ... the formal dining room was to her right ... and the bedrooms were located on the second floor.

Marnie heard Samuel lugging the suitcases up the stairs as Emily prattled on. ". . . and we'll certainly visit Kelly. She's my best friend. We usually have coffee together twice a week. You'll love her."

They arrived at Marnie's room just to the left of the staircase.

" ... so this is your room." Emily pushed the door open. It was four times the size of her bedroom in Dalkey and had its own adjoining bathroom, replete with an oval shaped soaking tub. There was a decidedly pink motif, and the walls reflected the interests of an eighteen year old girl. Marnie giggled when she saw the expansive room.

"This is all mine ma'am?" Marnie asked, not quite believing it was all hers.

"Oh please ... it's Emily. Yes ... yes ... this is Morgan's room. She would want you to have it. She's going to Haverford. It's a college back east."

"Oh Mrs. ... uhh ... Emily ... thank you so much for having me here."

"We're so happy to have you. Why don't you freshen up and we'll have dinner together in about an hour?"

"That would be grand ... Emily."

Marnie closed the door and leaned against the back of it.

She was in Los Angeles. She was living in a palace. The reality vastly exceeded whatever expectations she may have had. This would certainly take some of the sting out of the her heart wrenching separation from Lauren.

* * *

Marnie dressed for the family dinner the same way she dressed when she worked in the pub. Long sleeve top with the sleeves rolled up, the blouse unbuttoned enough to show enough cleavage to keep a customer's interest, and tight fitting skinny jeans. She had showered and washed and dried her hair, so her tightly wound curls bounced as she walked. Samuel's eyes widened as he saw Marnie sashay into the kitchen.

"M ... M ... Marnie," he called out, fighting his nervous stutter. He started to rise from his chair.

"Don't get up Mr. Vandebroek." Marnie reflexively put her hand softly on the top of his shoulder.

Samuel tried not to react to the touch, but Emily saw him get flush. She was certain he had an erection.

Emily tried to ignore what just transpired. "Samuel, I was telling Marnie that we need to take her to Santa Monica. She's always heard about the beach and you mentioned before that you'd like to get out there."

Emily got no reaction. There was an awkward silence.

"Samuel!" Emily half-shouted.

Samuel snapped to attention, having lost concentration lusting after his new guest.

"Yes ... yes ... the b ..b ..b ..beach. I'd love to take you there." Samuel was already picturing Marnie in a skimpy bikini, and the mental image almost brought his breathing to a full stop.

"That sounds wonderful Mr. Vandebroeck," Marnie replied, overlooking the awkwardness of the conversation. She had become accustomed to tongue tied men and thought nothing of Samuel's reaction.

"I'm sure we'll get you out soon." Emily made sure that Samuel saw the icy daggers emanating from her squinting eyes.

The dinner was polite, but uncomfortable. Marnie shared her background in Dalkey, including a detailed portrait of her brothers and the pub, and her intended course of studies at UCLA. Emily told her about Morgan, their only child, and her being named to the Patriot League All-Conference soccer team as a true freshman. Marnie learned that Samuel was an architect of some renown and that Emily was the youngest of three daughters, all of whom attended UCLA. Emily was a Fine Arts major, and worked in a well-known art gallery.

Emily told her more about her best friend Kelly, who managed the gallery for a world famous collector and dealer. Kelly had two daughters, the oldest, Sophie, had already graduated from college and was working for a tech firm in Atlanta. Her youngest, Tasha, was still undecided about whether to attend college. Tasha's indecision was driving Kelly crazy. Emily was outspoken in her criticism of Kelly's husband, Brian. After a second glass of wine, Emily started recounting Kelly's marital difficulties and made it clear that she thought Brian was a royal asshole.

"D .. D ..Don't you think Marnie may not be interested in Kelly's marriage problems?" Samuel interjected. He regretted his question the moment he finished asking it.

As expected Emily glared at him. "I can tell Marnie whatever I like."

The glare told Samuel that he was taking one more step towards the "no sex" zone that night.

Marnie suppressed a smirk. In Ireland or the United States, married life was the same. She had seen that look a hundred times in her pub between a wife and an errant husband. She knew the reactions of a jealous wife.

Marnie helped Emily clear the dishes, and even volunteered to wash while Emily dried. Emily begrudgingly admitted to herself that her new boarder had no intent to take her husband, or likely any husband, although she was sure Samuel would stray if she let him.

Marnie excused herself, understandably tired after the long trip. Emily retired to her bedroom, where Samuel was waiting, laying on the bed with his robe open and his erection popping up between the flaps.

"I knew she would excite you," said Emily, relieved at her husband's obvious interest in sex with her, instead of her young and beautiful tenant.

"She's too young for me ... but she's going to make some guy a lucky man."

Emily unbuttoned her blouse and unclasped her bra and threw both of them on the floor. She knew he loved her tits, so she pushed them together with her nipples pointed at him.

"Shut up and fuck me," she said, kicking off her panties.

Samuel rolled on top of his wife, kissing her breasts and sinking his hardened tool into her sopping wet cunt.

"Oh fuck," grunted the horny husband as his wife thrust her hips upward to drive his cock all the way inside her. "Your pussy is so goddamn tight."

Samuel and Emily found the familiar rhythm that longtime married couples fall into, knowing that it would bring about their mutual release. Emily's hips undulated as Samuel raised himself up on his arms for the best angle to fuck his wife.

"Oh yes ..." murmured Emily as her husband's cock found that special place in her pussy. She wiggled her waist to increase the friction.

"Yes ... yes ... fuck yes Sam," she cried out as she had a huge orgasm fueled by horniness and relief.

Sam wasn't far behind, pressing his cock all the way inside her, pumping his cum as he repeatedly thrust inside her. He waited to catch his breath, and then rolled off on his back, panting.

His wife wasn't done. She leaned over and gripped the base of his softening cock, licking the heavily veined shaft of his cum covered cock like an ice cream cone. Samuel groaned his approval, grateful that his behavior didn't diminish his wife's sex drive. He shivered as she took his cock into her mouth to clean off the remnants of his spend.

Emily may not have been the looker that Marnie was, but she was a great fuck.

* * *

"It's too bad Samuel had a client emergency," said Emily, pulling out of her driveway on the way to Santa Monica. He doesn't know what he's missing."

"I really appreciate this Emily. You didn't have to do this."

"Nonsense. I want to," said Emily.

Emily talked about the day's events, with lunch at a popular Mexican taqueria at Venice beach and then renting bikes and riding down the paved path parallel to the beach. Marnie was still pinching herself that she was in California.

They were exiting off of US-10 when Emily asked the question that had been weighing on her mind from the moment she set eyes on the lovely Marnie.

"So ... Marnie ... do you have anyone special back home?"

The question hung in the air, Marnie knowing she would be living with Emily for a long time so there was no reason to withhold the truth.

"I did ... but we broke up right before I left."

"I'm sorry," Emily replied. She was looking forward through the windshield, trying to find the sign for her exit and trying to remain calm. "What was his name, if you don't mind me asking." She knew she was getting very personal very quickly but she had to know.

"Her name is Lauren." It hurt Marnie to even say her name out loud.

"Lauren? Was that a boy's or girl's name in Ireland?" Emily thought. She cursed when she sped past her exit.

" ... Lauren's a lass," Marnie said, replying to the question Emily was formulating in her mind.

The all clear signal rang in Emily's ears. Marnie was a lesbian. Or ... or was she bisexual?

"So you've never had a fellow?" The car lurched to a stop at a busy intersection at the end of the next exit ramp. Marnie saw a man in black spandex shorts walking a miniature poodle and laughed.

Marnie smiled at the question, realizing that Emily still viewed her as a threat. She was flattered and amused by her conclusion.