Estuary Ch. 03

Estuary: (n) - that part of the mouth or lower course of a river in which the river's current meets the sea's tide.

1:10 said one. 1:02 said the other. Eliza sat alone on the sofa, resting her ankle in its cumbersome cast, and idly wondered which one was telling the truth. Neither the cable box nor the DVD player seemed particularly credible to her. It was her left ankle that she'd broken, fractured really, in a racquetball game, and it was throbbing unpleasantly. She really shouldn't have walked on it so much. Earlier that night, her injury had kept her off of the dance floor. Now she was sitting alone in a second story living room, only accessible by stairs, while her boyfriend Scott, her best friend, and her best friend's comically drunk husband were up yet another flight of stairs doing God only knows what. Anyone else might have been prone to irritation at the situation. Eliza, however, was counting her blessings. She wasn't even overly impatient. She'd waited years for tonight. Minutes were nothing.

The townhouse belonged to Bethany and her husband Carlton, high school sweethearts who'd married just after college. That had been where Eliza met Bethany. Aside from their mutual pursuit of degrees in education, they were virtually nothing alike. Maybe that was why they'd become such fast and enduring friends. Eliza was always the wild one who experimented with a lot more than just marijuana and boys. Her hair was naturally a dark, almost glossy black, though back then, in the times before she was bound by things like maintaining a "professional appearance", she favored purple, red, or even blue. She wore it short and cropped these days, one of the many compromises made in the name of paying the bills. The rest of her, however, was still pretty much unchanged. Bethany, on the other hand, was one of those blondes you see on the cover of bridal magazines, beautiful and pristine. She'd literally been the homecoming queen. While Eliza went through lovers with carefree abandon, Bethany was strictly monogamous. She loved Carlton. She played by the rules. She was a good girl, well, at least mostly good.

Characteristically drawn to the unconventional, Eliza had always found men and women equally attractive. It was a sentiment she frequently and shamelessly acted on. There had been a time in those early years when Bethany first expressed her own budding curiosity, but Carlton was much too conservative to entertain the prospect. In the years that followed, it became their little secret, an inside game of sorts. They playfully flirted and tempted each other on the dance floor, but it never went any further - at least, not in person. Instead, they talked on the phone; or rather Eliza talked while Bethany listened to the intimate details of her best friend's promiscuous liaisons. Typically, these conversations led to moments of heavy breathing and shared rapture. They also tended to ensure Carlton had a very, very good night. They'd never so much as kissed, but Eliza had made Bethany cum countless times. Until tonight, that had always been enough for them. Tonight, her cast had her kept her from dancing, and when she suggested that Bethany dance with Scott instead, Carlton had been too drunk to protest. Tonight, Eliza watched Bethany fuck her boyfriend in the backseat of their car while Carlton, lost in an inebriated stupor, slept in the front. Now Scott and Bethany were upstairs, presumably helping Carlton into bed, and Eliza, who was growing quite fond of her cast, was waiting patiently for her turn.

Bethany walked slowly down the stairs, still smoking a cigarette she'd plucked from Scott's mouth. The menthol flavor mingled with the bitter aftertaste of what was now a comparatively a minor indiscretion in the hallway outside of her bedroom. The person she had been yesterday, proper and faithful, was no more. A woman with long suppressed needs and the determination to sate them had taken her place. She loved Carlton. She didn't want to hurt him, and she wouldn't. When he woke in the morning, it would be to a world of blissful ignorance where he was still happily married to a woman who only had eyes for him. She hadn't meant for any of this to happen. It didn't matter now. Bethany wasn't sure she'd change it, even if she could. Whatever had gone before, in that moment, Bethany wanted this; she wanted Eliza. Her husband was safely in bed, and she'd made sure that Scott wouldn't be equipped to interfere any time soon in what was to come.

Eliza was lighting a cigarette of her own, the fourth since she'd arrived and, unnoticed, Bethany hesitated on the stairs and watched her. Eliza was a slender woman with an androgynous figure and bright hazel eyes. Her face was endearingly cute and, despite the fact that they were both in their early thirties, Eliza still got carded at clubs and for cigarettes. By way of description, Bethany often called her the hottest teenage boy she'd ever met. The thought made her smile. God, Bethany wondered, how long had it been? How many years of yearning and denial had it taken to culminate in this? A dozen, at least. All of the compunctions and convictions that caused her to wait so long seemed alien, foolish, and unfathomable now. Any value they had ever had was abandoned in a backseat in a nightclub parking lot. Those bridges were ablaze, and she could feel the heat passing in waves across her flesh. She was trembling, and the drumming of her pulse drowned out all of her careful forethought, replacing it with immediacy and instinct. She didn't want to just fuck Eliza, even though she could feel the hungry salivation of her lust dampening her thighs. She wanted more. She wanted to make love to her, to touch her, to please her, to hold her in the aftermath, and to be held likewise. There had been words Bethany meant to say if this moment ever came but, despite countless fantasized rehearsals and revisions, they were totally lost to her now.

"Eliza?" was all she could manage.

Eliza looked up from the lighter, half-lit cigarette dangling in her lips. Almost robotically, she removed and dropped it haphazardly into an ashtray, never taking her eyes off of her best friend. Standing there, at the foot of the stairs, Bethany had never before looked so desirable, so perfectly vulnerable. Eliza smiled, the expression a roguish blend of compassion and appetite, and patted the sofa next to her. Bethany obeyed, crossing the room quickly, discarding her own cigarette, and sinking into the seat so that her left and Eliza's right legs ran together. Both women were wearing the short skirts they usually reserved for Saturday nights, and even that simple contact seemed weighted with meaning and significance. Gently, Eliza raised a hand to Bethany's face and brushed her long hair back, tucking as much as she could behind her ear. Bethany's eyes closed and her face leaned sensually into the touch, turning until she kissed the back of Eliza's curled fingers.

"Are you okay?" Eliza asked, adding, "You're so beautiful tonight," before Bethany could answer.

"It's like one of your stories," Bethany sighed between Eliza's fingers.

"Yeah," Eliza said, slipping her hand past Bethany's lips and into her hair and whispering, "Look, Mom, no phone." As if signaled by some unseen cue, the women moved in tandem, embracing with arms and mouths. Lips, at first tentatively parted, yielded to Eliza's advances and Bethany's fingers dug into her back. For several minutes, their tongues danced with the same intimacy they'd so often stolen from the dance floor. Bethany had never kissed another woman, and it was nothing like kissing Carlton, or Scott either, for that matter. Both seemed rugged and forceful when compared with Eliza's delicate sweetness. Bethany was left, chest heaving and emotions swelling, as Eliza withdrew from the kiss, licking her lips and grinning coyly with awareness. "I'm sure Scott must've enjoyed that, you little minx."

Bethany blushed. Just prior to descending the stairs, she had taken Eliza's boyfriend in the hallway, sucking him off and taking the full measure of his release in her mouth. The taste still lingered just below the menthol and fleeting remnants of Eliza's strawberry lipstick. Something in Eliza's amused, accusing smile made her laugh and then nod. He certainly had enjoyed it, knees buckling and panting incoherencies by the time she'd finished with him. "I didn't want him to get in the way," she confessed.

Eliza snorted, her nose wrinkled with mirth, and for the first time since dancing with Scott, Bethany felt safe and comfortable. Instantly, they were giggling like schoolgirls, tickling and pawing at each other just like they'd done for years. It was like nothing had happened, nothing was different. Or, at least it was until Eliza kissed her again, drawing Bethany's top upwards. Bethany raised her arms, maintaining the kiss until forced to surrender it to allow the cloth to pass between them. Discarding the halter-top, Eliza took Bethany's shoulders, lowered her onto her back, and kissed a path down to the newly exposed flesh. Bethany's whole body arched upwards, hands sliding into Eliza's short hair, their bodies undulating with passion. To a building crescendo of gasped moans and whimpers, Eliza rolled hardened, sensitive nipples between her teeth while sliding hands down to wrestle with the clamps that held Bethany's skirt in place.

The snap of each button was accompanied by a shiver of anticipation that reverberated in Bethany's voice. With tantalizing hesitance Eliza began her descent, blazing a trail of soft, subdued kisses down Bethany's quivering stomach, lingering for a moment to tease her navel with hints of the pleasures yet to come. Bethany's body writhed of its own will, her racing mind drunk with sensation. She'd never felt so acutely aware, so utterly consumed by another's touch. Her clitoris throbbed pleadingly and more urgently than her heart ever had. Her entire body begged for release. Eliza slid from the couch to the floor, removed the unfastened skirt, and cupped Bethany's knees, spreading her legs open before her. "You're so fucking beautiful," Eliza said before lowering her mouth to the cusp of Bethany's upper inner thigh. Bethany tried to answer but words were beyond her, drowned in her throat amidst a sea of near orgasmic sounds that seemed dredged from some deep, previously undiscovered place within her.

Eliza prolonged the exquisite agony with practiced precision, the effects of her tantalizingly close kisses shot through Bethany like strokes of lightning. When she was certain that the time was right, Eliza parted swollen lips, splaying them with her fingers, and lightly flicked Bethany's need with the tip of her tongue. Bethany's eyes slammed shut and her mouth, suddenly parched, fell open. Her stomach and haunches lunged upwards, forcing her head and shoulders to sink further into the sofa's thick cushions. "Eliza... Eliza... God... Eliza," Bethany panted as Eliza's lips engulfed her, tongue moving in a furious dance of caress and feint. The avalanche began. Bethany's legs closed around Eliza's head as she bucked and thrust herself against the source of her ecstasy. Hands, momentarily flailing, found substance among the cushions and alternated between slapping and clenching them. Carlton had never been shy about going down. He was even pretty good at it, but never anything like that. Nothing was anything like that. Bethany continued to writhe, albeit less violently, her entire body buzzing in the wake of the most intense, aching climax she'd ever experienced.

Eliza slipped away to adjust her position for the stupid cast. She really hated the damn thing, so uncomfortable and awkward. She'd noticed Scott sitting in the stairwell, watching them, and she knew perfectly well what he was thinking. He was just going to have to wait. She wasn't done yet. Fully nude and sprawled out before her, Eliza pictured Bethany as some falling angel descending into her afterglow. Certainly a monogamous life with Carlton was far from Eliza's idea of a paradise lost, but a girl was entitled a certain degree of poetic license at times like that. She supposed that made her the serpent in this little townhouse Eden. She could live with that, at least so long as Bethany didn't get hurt. The thought ended her whimsical musings, compelling Eliza to crawl back onto the sofa and into Bethany's welcoming arms. "Guess you liked it," Eliza whispered, kissing Bethany's forehead and trying not to sound concerned.

Bethany entwined herself with Eliza and nodded. She was still breathless. "It was incredible. I... I don't know what to say. It was... you were... perfect."

Eliza chuckled. "You keep stroking my ego like that and I might finally get off tonight." Bethany responded to the words immediately, sliding a hand between them and downward before Eliza intercepted it. "I didn't mean anything by that. You don't have to."

"I want to," Bethany answered, slipping her hand free of Eliza's grasp and tenderly kissing her. It was the truth, and it had been for years. Carlton, ironically if not typically, had a penchant for lesbian porn and, with Eliza's help, she'd learned to genuinely appreciate the sensual aesthetic of the female form. On countless "nights out," they had prowled the dance floor seeking suitable candidates for Eliza and Scott's next libertine adventure. These things, however, only served to show Bethany that she didn't really want to be with just any woman. She wanted to be with Eliza. Taking care to maintain the kiss, and avoid Eliza's broken ankle, Bethany repositioned herself to rest atop her lover. Straddling Eliza's hips, she drew Eliza up with her into a sitting position and still the kiss continued. By the time Bethany relinquished the soulful kiss, Eliza was spellbound. Bethany slid her fingers into the straps of Eliza's tank-top, removed it, and placed a hand over Eliza's heart. The hand lingered there against the bare flesh for the duration of beat, and then Bethany gently pushed Eliza back until she was propped up by elbows.

Eyes preceded hands as Bethany explored the once forbidden terrain that lay before her. Eliza's breasts were small, sufficiently so that she seldom troubled herself with bras, but her perky nipples were extraordinarily sensitive. A frequently recurring detail in Eliza's recounted experiences, Bethany knew well the effect she was about to have. Snaking a hand between them, Bethany lowered her mouth to sample the fruit of her infidelity while eager fingers pried their way into Eliza's skirt. Deftly, she avoided overstimulating Eliza's clit. Bethany had other plans for that. Instead, her fingers sank further still until her thumb found and immersed itself in Eliza's quivering sex. Moaning convulsively and gyrating, Eliza raked her nails down Bethany's back, willingly succumbing to the rising tide of multiple orgasms. Any insecurities Bethany harbored for her lack of experience eroded with each climax she provoked.

After Eliza's fifth or sixth climax, neither had been able to keep track, Bethany withdrew her hand and, unable to resist the curiosity, brought her thumb to her mouth. Still winded, Eliza watched in sensual awe as her best friend sampled her juices. "Holy fuck, that's hot," she said amid stolen breaths.

"Yeah?" Bethany asked, smiling around her thumb. She'd been a little afraid that she'd balk at actually tasting another woman, but in the moment it'd come with such natural ease. Aware of the effect her performance was having, Bethany cleaned her thumb with the same measure of attention that she'd used to dispatch Scott in the hallway. While she'd always been a pretty girl, Bethany seldom felt sexy, something Eliza scoffed at as ridiculous, but laying there teasing Eliza, she felt like some kind of goddess. She felt powerful, in control. This newfound sense of liberation, confidence, and self had taken root just outside of her bedroom to the orgasmic chant of her name. Now it was in full bloom. "Mmmmmm," she said, removing the digit with a moist pop, "I want more."

"I've got more," Eliza said, falling into a fit a giggles and playfully batting Bethany with a stray cushion. "You're really digging this."

Bethany brushed the cushion aside and smiled affectionately, but there was a tinge of melancholy to it. She lowered her head to rest between Eliza's breasts. Instinctually Eliza enfolded her, kissing her hair. "I feel so stupid," Bethany said.

"No, Beth, you're..."

"I am. I let this happen," Bethany interrupted, snaking arms beneath, reciprocating the embrace.

Eliza deflated. "This isn't your fault."

Bethany shook her head. "You don't understand."

"You feel guilty for cheating on Carl," Eliza answered. She'd been dreading this eventually.

"No. Well, yes," Bethany amended, crestfallen. "It's not that though. It's like I always wanted this to happen, even before we got married. I knew I wanted to sleep with you, but I married him anyway and just tried to ignore it. It was stupid. What's the difference between wanting and doing?"

"Like I'd know," Eliza snorted, hoping desperately to draw a smile.

Bethany's arms tightened, pressing into her lover. She had smiled, fleeting and halfhearted as it was. "I'm being serious."

"I know," Eliza placated. Cheering Bethany up was one of Eliza's strong suits. Self examination was not. "There's a big difference, I guess."

"I don't know. I think that as soon as I started fantasizing about doing this I was being unfaithful."

Eliza's brow furrowed. "That's like saying if you think about stealing something you're a thief."

"You are, if the only thing that stops you is the fear of consequences," Bethany replied thoughtfully. Eliza opened her mouth to speak, but found herself at an uncharacteristic loss for words. "All this time," Bethany continued, "I've been setting myself up for this. I've been pretending to be something I'm not. And it's not just you. That night after homecoming, Carlton and I made love, and the whole time I was fantasizing about Kurt Lancing. I almost moaned his name! And it's not like that was the only time I've done that. I am a thief, Eliza."

"So what are you gonna do?"

Bethany tilted her head to face Eliza, smiling again, only with a little more substance this time. "I don't know. I don't want to hurt Carlton. Ask me again tomorrow. Right now, I want to steal your skirt."

Eliza laughed, a mixture of amusement, rekindled arousal, and genuine relief. She hated drama. "What about the consequences?"

"I'm looking forward to them," Bethany grinned wickedly, and began kissing down Eliza's stomach.