Impact 09: of Repentance

"Mmmnn, good girl, Sarah," she had purred, like she was praising a favorite student. "But now you need to share my pussy with him or he's going to cum in your pretty hair,"

I remember becoming aware of him again, next to us beside the bed, his enormous cock gripped in his fist, inches from my face.

"It's my turn now," she promised, smiling wickedly. "No more pussy for you, Sarah - not till the end."

I had tried to catch my breath as she forced me back and crawled on top of me, the feel of her nails digging into my skin. I'd squealed and laughed as she pulled me up the bed by my armpits, but then we had gone still. She had lowered herself over me and kissed me deeply again, her hands touching my body.

"Mmmm, you really like this honey," she'd whispered, maybe a little surprised. I remember I had, more than anything I'd ever felt before. "We're going to have some fun," she'd said - but I'm not sure if she was talking to me or Kwasi... And then she had gone down on me.

Laughing and whining as she licked and sucked at my neck and breasts and stomach, until her mouth was hidden in my bush and I went soft as her tongue pushed and probed - then stopped and pulled away.

"Uch! It's like the summer of love down here," she laughed, coughing and pulling a hair from her throat. "We need to do some grooming, sweetie," she jabbed. "It's no wonder Danny won't eat you out."

I had felt embarrassed and shamed. But she had made a show of carefully spreading my pubic hair with her fingers, pulling me open and blowing softly into me - not an apology, but it had felt kind. Finally, sticking out her tongue, she began to take long slow licks.

I had pulled at the pillows and sheets. Making hard fists with my hands. I remember writhing, the wild thrill of looking into her eyes as her tongue curled into me. I had tunnel vision, just her face looking up at me. The wicked look in her eyes, just the two of us. But she had pulled away and looked at Kwasi who was standing to one side watching us. He was naked, his erection standing out from his body thick and stiff and long, like a branch. Darci had made a show of pulling another hair out of her mouth and wagged her ass at Kwasi.

"Do you like watching me lick Sarah's pussy? Do you want to watch me make her cum?" she'd asked Kwasi, before telling him, "You need to give me that good dick."

I remember I was panting, that he had been staring at me, at my breasts. His jaw clenched and eyes burning had looked hungry, but Darci's command had shaken him out of his trance. He had seemed to come to himself for a moment, maybe he was even embarrassed for an instant, but then the hunger had returned as he moved around to the foot of the bed, his long thick cock bouncing in front of him. His expression was so intense it was almost alien, he was like a different person as he'd taken his place behind her, looking down on us.

"MMNh!"

She mewed and her eyes had gone wide as he guided himself in from behind. Lowering her mouth back between my legs, she had moaned into me. I'd watched his bare chest moving forward, pushing her mouth into me. For a time she had sucked me hard, making me writhe and igniting Kwasi. He'd started out slow, watching her sucking and licking my cunt; watching me. Part of me had been self conscious, having him see me that way, watching me like that, but Darci had made me forget myself and forget him. I'd begun to twist and writhe as he'd fucked her harder and faster, making her moan and cry out. Eventually he had driven her forward so her face was against my breasts, the two of us sweating and sliding against each other. Her hands had fumbled against me, pushed into me in clumsy attempts at fingering me. But she had been become too overwhelmed by what he was doing, too preoccupied with her own pleasure and had all but forgotten mine.

I didn't care. I remember being overcome by her pleasure. She had amazed me. I don't really remember the things she said, just that she had been so vocal, her expressions wild and ecstatic - something I'd thought I would never be capable of. And I might have cum just watching her, our bodies moving against each other. But while Kwasi had listened to her, while his hands had squeezed her flesh and gently pulled at her hair, he had watched me while he fucked her. He had pumped her from behind but he had watched me twist, watched my breasts bounce, and most of all, he had looked into my eyes.

Despite how excited I'd been to kiss Darci, and as much as I wanted her to continue to lick my pussy, how much I loved seeing her ecstasy; as Kwasi continued to push into her, pumping both of us, things had gotten increasingly strange and emotionally misshapen. Finally, all I'd wanted was to crawl away and leave them to it. But I was pinned under Darci and she wouldn't let me go, she wanted me there. She had put herself between Kwasi and I, but I'd ended up trapped beneath her and Kwasi. So I'd stayed, watched by them while he fucked her on top of me. I had wanted her so badly, but been used as a prop for her. She wanted him, but ended up a proxy for me. He was inside her, but fucking me with his eyes and she knew it. I've never felt so ashamed of myself as I felt under them.

I passed out at some point. The last thing I remember was the two of us bouncing hard, her mouth very close to mine, telling me how good it was. She had moved on top of me as Kwasi had battered her ass from behind. My legs spread wide and my knees pushed up to my shoulders, her sweaty belly sliding against me with his every thrust. I'd tried to hide in her hair, but she had pulled it out of the way. Out of spite? For whatever reason, she had wanted him to see me, and so I did what she wanted and let him see me. Kwasi had stared into my eyes as he pulled out and shot great ropes of semen onto her back. It had been like he was aiming at me.

I woke up the next morning, alone, feeling sick, and wishing I was dead.

I was staring at myself in the subway car doors as they opened and with a lurch of alarm I saw it was Claire's stop. I jumped out of the train and raced down the platform, oblivious to the water pouring down onto the platform from the street above, I was running again. Running away from that awful night, running to save myself from my own mistakes. I pushed through the turnstiles and straight into a crowd of people standing at the bottom of the stairwell, watching water cascade down the steps and into the station like an urban cataract.

The rain was no longer fat drops, it was a monsoon. The white noise of the storm drowned out all else. People were yelling to each other, but I couldn't make out what was being said. It looked like most of the people were like me, having just gotten off the train, but three or four were drenched. They'd obviously run down into the subway for shelter.

I had to call Claire, tell her where I was, that I was trapped, but that I was on my way. I took out my phone, squeezing it hard but the screen was dark, it wouldn't turn on. I couldn't believe it, the fucking battery was dead.

"FUCK OFF!" I blurted.

I looked up to see faces turned to look at me. Strangers, eyes wide with shock, or narrowed with amusement... or something hungrier.

I pushed past them all and splashed up the stairs. It was only as I heard the first gasps and shouts of surprise that I remembered how short the little trench coat was. I'd flashed the crowd my bare ass. Hoots and cat calls followed me up the steps as I charged into the rain. I didn't have time to feel embarrassed or anything other than wet. I don't think I'd ever been in rain that heavy. I was soaked in seconds. It was falling so hard it weighed me down. The soaked tangle of my hair pulled at me. I passed shadowy figures of men and women huddled in doorways and crowded together under awnings. Traffic was moving slow because the streets were flooding. Cars and trucks left wakes as they drove past. Water flowed over my nose and lips as if it were pouring from a faucet, making it hard to breathe. The storm was cleaning the city, flooding it, washing all the filth away.

I kept running.

I rang Claire's bell but there was no answer. I felt a spike of fear, what if she was gone? What if she knew it was me and wasn't answering? The fear was titanic - my heart was pounding, my skin was cold, the rain trickling down my back and into my ass felt warm. I could feel the hair on my arms standing on end, I was shaking. I pictured having to walk all the way home in the rain. Thought of the awful silence that had fallen between Darci and I. Imagined what it would be like if Claire never spoke to me again.

'She hates me,' I thought, rain and tears running down my cheeks.

And then the door buzzes, the sound shocking me, making me jump. I push in through the foyer and run up the steps. Claire is standing at her door in the loose silk top and wide leg pants she'd been wearing this morning. Her hair is still pulled back, but her eyelids are puffy and red. She looks as tired and as cried out as I feel.

"Ah putain! Sarah you're soaked!"

"I couldn't... no cabs..." I pant. The rain water is still trickling down my back and into the cleft of my ass.

She's holding my face looking into my eyes, she's smiling but her expression is sad.

"Oh no, you look worse than me..." she tells me, then looking down at my neckline she asks, "What are you wearing?"

"I wasn't dressed, I just-"

I pull open the little trench, flashing her.

"Sarah! Why are you naked? That hardly covers your ass! Did you get the train dressed like that? Have you gone mad?!?"

She grabs me and pulls me inside, slamming the door and hugging me hard. We're both laughing until I start to cry, and then we're both crying.

"Tu me manques," she moans into my ear. I can feel her tears on my neck. "Come in. Oh no, you're so cold. Oh Sarah, what have you done, what happened to you?"

She pulls me over to the bathroom and, stripping off my trench, wraps me in her big white robe. Then scrubs my hair dry with a towel, using a corner to dab at our eyes and wipe at our cheeks.

"Better," she tells me, and leads me back to the big white sofa.

"Stay," she commands. I stare at my boots, thinking I should take them off, but I'm too exhausted. Rain is drumming the oversized double-hung windows in a frantic rhythm. Cascades of water on the glass make the outside world unrecognizable.

Over the pounding of the storm I can hear her moving about the kitchen, the clink of glasses and ice, the crack and fizz of spring water being opened.

"I'm so sorry Claire," I tell her. "I didn't-"

"Please you must not apologize to me, I couldn't stand it. Really! It's me who should be apologizing to you Sarah!"

I start to protest, but she heads me off.

"No! Please hear me out. It's not just about what happened last night, which I never should have let happen-"

"But I-"

"Let me finish... Please."

She is standing at the kitchen island, staring at the blue glass bottle, at the tumblers full of ice. I'm looking at her over the back of the sofa. She looks so thin, so diminished. I can see her gathering her thoughts... perhaps her courage. I want so badly to fill the silence, to confess everything - about Rebekah and Darci, about the fantasies... but none of that is anything like what we are doing. That was Hide and Seek, that was Cat's Cradle. This is real, this is EVERYTHING. I hold my tongue, afraid to interrupt her thoughts, afraid I'll only make things worse.

My heart aches as she picks up the glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other.

"It's not just about last night Sarah," she finally says, her voice weary and thick. "I knew how old you were - or thought I did - but I knew you were younger than me, that you had never done anything like this before."

She's letting me down softly I think, my eyes burning with tears again, but then she looks up, eyes flashing, and her voice changes.

"Just know this: you are so brave Sarah... you are fierce!"

"I wanted too much, too fast - I know that," she says as she walks around the sofa to me. We are looking at each other as she sets everything down in front of me and settles beside me, her beauty hurts my heart. "I pushed you - because I wanted you, and then I pushed you harder... harsher... because I got impatient and scared... and maybe a little angry - I'm ashamed of that, of myself, and so deeply sorry. Truly, Sarah. For that, and for not saying something about my age sooner, I apologize."

"I knew you were older - I'm not totally clueless - you havesuch nice product." This actually makes her laugh. "No one my age has Aēsop hand soap, for goodness sake!"

"That's my mother..."

"Whatever! There's like a thousand dollars worth of makeup and crèmes in your bathroom... I just told myself it's just that you were French, or maybe 27?"

She laughs again, petting my arms, squeezing me. Her eyes are so sad.

"You're so beautiful Claire and you, you just don't look-"

I stop myself from saying...

"So old?" she asks, smiling at this, a welcome break in our misery, enjoying making me squirm.

"No, it's not... that you don't look your age - you don't look any age. Seriously, you are painfully beautiful Claire. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known," I tell her. "It never occurred to me to think about your age." I watch my words take effect. I can see how much she enjoys hearing me call her beautiful.

'Have I told Claire how beautiful she is before?' I wonder, thinking of all the ways she has told me how beautiful she thinks I am - my mouth, my hair, and breasts, how much she loves my body - I struggle to remember when I might have told her any of these things.

"At times it feels like a dream just to look at you, when..." I start, but something she'd said strikes me, stops me cold, gives me a chill.

"What do you mean you're scared?" I ask, not wanting to know the answer. I've never imagined Claire scared of anything, but that's what she had said. All I can think of are my fears, of how far this has gone, that it has to stop and how badly I want it to go on. I'm terrified by that idea of what she might be scared of, of what she might do.

"What are you scared of?" I force myself to ask.

"Of you."

The words strike me like a fist. I want to cut her off to beg, to stop the words that are coming next, but she holds up her hand, stopping me.

"I can see you don't understand, that you can't imagine your effect on those around you any more than you can see your own beauty, but listen, I first want to make something very clear Sarah, I never lied to you, I never meant to mislead you... but I could have said something; I see that now. I should have said something. I... I just never imagined you didn't know."

I look at her, the sadness and frustration starting to cross her face again, like... the night before?

'Christ, the karaoke bar feels like another lifetime,' I thought.

"I don't want you to think I look at you as a girl. You are a remarkable woman Sarah. I was selling ice cream on a beach when I was twenty four. I am so in awe of your accomplishments, your attitude and grace. You are intimidating. You scare me Sarah."

This is so hard to take in, so hard to believe I feel like I'm gaping at her, I want to interrupt to ask how that's possible. Her knees are touching mine, yet she still feels so far away. She's sitting up so straight. She looks so brittle. I want to leap in her lap and embrace her, but I force myself still, force myself to listen.

"I have never felt our age difference. On the contrary, it had seemed like less than nothing to me," she tells me. "But as soon as I told you how old I am I was afraid you did feel it. That you would think I am some sort of creep or leopard-"

"Cougar?"

She blinks, confused.

"Cougars prey on younger-" I start to explain, but stop, the teasing falling flat. She looks so sad.

"Yes..." she whispers, dropping her gaze. I think of all the things I've said to Claire about creepy older guys, the way I mocked Kathy from work for being so old...

Claire is staring into her hands. I can see she's struggling with something. I want so badly to say something, to tell her it's ok, but I know that's not what she wants. Instead, I wrap my arms around her and wait, terrified of what she'll say next. I rest my head on her shoulder, hide my eyes. She is so slight. Her shoulders feel so narrow in my arms. She feels so fragile. I can't believe I've ruined this.

"But this fear," she starts, her voice shaking and soft in my ear, "this was the small fear Sarah. The big fear is that I will lose you, that at any moment I will never hear from you again. That you will reject me, that you don't feel for me what I feel for you."

I clutch at her, squeezing myself to her in surprise, that her fear was so much like my own. Was she right? Had I kept one foot out the door? Had I ever been afraid of losing Claire without being even more afraid of what it would mean to keep her? The guilt of it was like a wound. Like a gash we shared wherever our bodies touched. I could feel tears coming and pressed my face into Claire's neck; hid there in the beautifully slippery smell of her perfume, something from another time, another world.

"I'm so sorry for not talking to you about what I was feeling," she whispered, petting my hair, pushing her fingers into my damp curls. "But I am most sorry that I got impatient with you... that I was rough with you. I saw how it excites you, but I also saw how it confuses you. This is new for both of us, but you are young, and in many ways not experienced in matters of the heart. I knew that, but I got frustrated, Sarah, and I am ashamed of myself."

She's kissing the top of my head, but her words chill me. My body draws against her, bracing for a blow. I can't help but remember Rebekah kissing my head this way, telling me I was going to do great things, that everything would work out, and then leaving me. I want to beg Claire not to hurt me, that I'll do anything.

"You are so good to me, Sarah," Claire says, taking my face in her hands. And pulling me up to look into her big hazel eyes, liquid and soft, her warm regard. She kisses me softly on the cheeks, drinking my tears. "I feel how badly you want to please me. I feel it whenever we are together. It drives me Sarah, but I want to please you too. I adore you. But your rejection..."

The word lands like a slap. I try not to flinch, force myself not to cry out.

"Again and again..." she whispers. "I can tell that something is holding you back... I want to believe it's not me... that you're not ready. I know you are not... as experienced... as you think I am. That your time with Danny was not good..."

I can't help but remember the rancid feel of Danny's semen in my stomach as he walked out on me, telling me I was shit. That I was a "rotten lay" and full of myself. I've tried so hard for Claire. But Danny was right, I'm broken; frozen.

"I know I should be patient, that we are not the same, and I've tried. But when you turn me away, when you hold me back... again and again... at first I thought it's because of how... different this is - between us... when you saw me enjoying myself that you would want that for yourself, that if I demanded things I wanted for myself you would begin to demand for yourself but you didn't... I let it scare me, Sarah, make me angry- and... sometimes I like to talk dirty-"

"PshhYEAH you do!" I scoff through my snot and tears, I couldn't help it, but both Claire and I laugh.

"Yes well," she confesses with an embarrassed smile. "Maybe more than sometimes."

She strokes my cheek, giving me another little kiss. I feel myself unwinding, no longer expecting a blow. Not because of the laughter or what she's saying, but because of how she's looking at me. It's her eyes. Those eyes would never hurt me. I trust the look in those eyes more than any promise anyone has ever made me. I squeeze Claire in my relief and release a long juddering breath.