Impact 11: of Amends

"I don't know..." I am willing my eyes to see into the darkness, to pull information from the black windows.

"Is she there?"

"I... don't know," I admit. My breath is shallow and fast. But I realize, so is Claire's.

"It's late..." she whispers, breathlessly.

Her arms are tight around me, her hands are making little grasping gestures, almost clawing at my flanks. Her nipples are hard and pressing into my back. I look down at myself. Only the one button at my breasts holds the blouse closed. My belly is bare, except for Claire's wrapping arms. I finger the button, imagining Helen watching us. It's so close, can she hear our cries from there?

"If she's still in there, she knows we're watching her," Claire whispers, as if there's some danger Helen might hear, reading my thoughts.

"I never told you about Rebekah," I whisper back, pressing my cheek against Claire's without taking my eyes away from the darkened room. I feel Claire shift a little, maybe cocking her head in query, but she's watching the dark as hard as me.

"She was an older girl at Brown," I tell her. "My tutor**... she used to watch me."

"What?!"

This had torn Claire's eyes away from Helen's study. I feel my color rising, heat boiling up from my breast, making my neck burn and prickle, then my face and then my scalp.

"OhmyGOD!!! Sarah, REALLY?!?"

I pull my neck into my shoulders, as if I could hide like a turtle.

"SARAH!"

I can hear the shock, but also glee in Claire's voice, I force myself to look at her, her eyes are glittering with delight. All the discomfort and self consciousness is gone, whatever was bothering her, totally forgotten.

"You did not!"

"I mean... I'm not positive," I mumble, wishing I'd kept my mouth shut, that I could take it all back. "I just thought..."

"She watched you?! Seriously Sarah, your tutor?!!!" She was tickling me, forcing me onto my back, a wide toothy smile on her face. "Tell me about Rebekah, what do you mean she watched you? With Danny?!"

"No!" I laugh, scrambling to defend myself from her wiggling fingers. "Nothing like that! I was alone... in her room. Oh please!"

"Alone?!" Claire laughs incredulous, her fingers making me buck and flail. "She watched you undress?"

"No! ...I mean, yes! ...I don't - I mean, MORE!?!" I shriek, my voice is high and desperate.

"She watched you masturbate?!?"

"Yes!"

Finally she stops tickling me. I am still fighting her but she takes me by the wrists, pinning them above my head. The two of us are panting and staring at each other. Claire's face is a portrait of surprise and delight.

"How did it start? Did she ask you?" Claire wants to know, her voice less playful, real curiosity seeping in. "Did she masturbate too?"

"No..." I whine, catching my breath, letting her see my eyes, watching her expression change, becoming serious, concerned. "I don't know..."

"Oh... oh, no... I'm sorry Sarah, I didn't..."

I watch Claire falter, her gaze deepen, grow soft.

"Was Rebekah important to you?"

"Yes... I think she really was," I say, realizing how true it was.

"Did you love her?" Claire asks. She's still straddling me, her hands on my wrists, but she's no longer holding me.

"Yes.... I don't know, a crush?"

Our faces were very close, our lips almost touching. "I was... it was freshman year and I'd been so lonely. She was smart and beautiful and so confident. Everyone seemed to know her, and she was kind to me Claire, she really was. What happened was so strange, I still don't know what she thought."

"What happened?"

"It's too embarrassing, I don't even know how to begin."

But I do know, I'm just afraid to say it, afraid of what Claire will think of me.

"Don't be embarrassed Sarah, not with me, never with me."

"We used to study in her room, and one day she had to run out and do something... I was alone in her room, with all her things... looking around and I picked up her pillow... I don't really remember why I did it, but I smelled it, and it smelled like her? And I just... it's so weird I know, but I had my first real orgasm on Rebekah's bed. I mean, I'd masturbated before - and even cum before, I guess. But it wasn't like this. I came so hard I thought I was going to faint."

"Did she catch you?"

"No, but I think she knew? The next week there was something else she needed to run out and do. And again the week after that - on like that..."

"And each time?"

"Yes," I admit, feeling myself blush a deep red. I wonder what Claire must think of me, wanting to hide my face in my hands but they are still above my head, in Claire's hand. "It's true what I told you, that I'm not good at... things... sex... even by myself."

She gave me a look, challenging me to go on, daring me.

"Wasn't good," I say, correcting myself, feeling a little spike of pride at her smile. "I was bad, and so guilty about everything. I told myself that fantasizing about girls wasn't cheating. And that I just fantasized about them watching. Still... but masturbating for Rebekah... in her bed... was different.... it was what being with Danny should have been. It felt so good - I mean I was still REALLY guilty, but-"

Claire laughs at this and seeing her laugh, I laugh too, with relief. I feel a weight lift. She doesn't hate me.

"Did she ever say anything? I mean did you ever..."

"NO! ...I told myself I had to stop. I felt like such a pervert - and I really wasn't sure what Rebekah was doing, what she knew. Looking back I'm positive she knew. But back then? God I was so fucked up Claire."

"Don't say that!" Claire admonishes. "I masturbated for you didn't I? I'm not fucked up am I?"

"But that was so different!"

"Pshht" Claire pulls an extremely French face that makes me laugh again. She's smiling down at me, she looks so pleased, like she's proud.

"How did she watch you?"

"Her bathroom had two doors - one out to the hall," I explain; my insecurity lurching back, stomach feeling like stone. I know it must sound so gross, so tawdry and fucked up, but Claire just looks... like I'm telling the sexiest, most romantic story she's ever heard.

"I think she watched from there?" I admit. "Through a crack in the door?"

"And then?"

"And then there was a party one night, down the block from her house." I am gulping air with the memory, shocked to hear the words leave my mouth. "Something happened with some guys, I was really drunk. Nothing terrible! ...but Rebekah said it was scary; we had to be walked home by her roommates? I woke up at her place..."

Claire is studying me. I want to look away, but I don't. I want to lie, but not as much as I want to tell her the truth. I've never talked about it with anyone, not even Rebekah.

"Iwasnaked."

The words come out in a rush, a single exhalation, followed by a long greedy draw of breath. "And... sometimes... when you get really turned on... when you're..." I picture Claire digging her heels into the small of my back. "...when you ride me hard?"

I watch her absorb this, the description I've only ever used to myself - never to Claire. I can see hurt flashing in her eyes.

"Ride?"

"No!" I insist. "I mean... I like when you lose yourself, when you're... rough," I reassure her, but she looks even more uncomfortable with that description. I'm ruining it. "I don't mean-"

"It's OK Sarah, I understand, go on," she urges, her expression gentle. "I want to hear it all."

And it's true, she seems entirely concentrated on me, on my words. She is hardly breathing, she's so still.

"Well... that's how I felt waking up that next morning, in Rebekah's bed, like I'd been... ridden hard. My tongue hurt and I stank of sex, but I didn't remember anything. I could tell she was hurt that I didn't, but I didn't know what to do. And I could tell she didn't either... so I just left?"

"Do you think she forced you?"

"NO! I mean... she wouldn't have had to... I would have..." I pause, weighing my words. Claire waits, her expression open and expectant. "We had sex, and I wanted it. I'm sure of that now. It's just that I didn't remember."

"Did you ever discuss it?"

"Never. My mother's daughter was too mortified, and Rebekah must have known. But she tutored me until the end of the semester - I'd struggled my first semester, but I did great that semester... and, yeah, I don't know... we stayed friends? But she moved to San Francisco. We used to write... it's been a long time?"

Claire's kisses are so soft and wet, it's a moment before I realize she's kissing away tears. Her eyes shine, but it's my tears she's kissing, sipping them off my cheeks.

"You are so sweet Sarah," she murmurs. "I love your mother's daughter so much. I love the way she blushes and struggles... I can see what it cost her to tell me that story." And pulling back she smiles brightly at me, her face glowing with real admiration. "But I love my Young Sarah most of all. She is so brave and unafraid; so BOLD!"

This makes me laugh until I snort, making Claire burst out laughing in surprise. Claire is holding my wrists tight again and kisses me through our laughter, our teeth clash painfully, but she doesn't pull away. We groan but keep kissing, lips pulled back in smiles, but tongues delving and dancing.

"Do you think Helen is watching?" she asks, still kissing me, a wicked look in her eyes as she reaches for the button of my blouse. "Would you like her to watch me eat your pussy?"

My breath catches at the image, at the idea.

"The first night... when I came without touching myself, I had a fantasy," I tell her through her kisses, monetarily stopping her hand working the button.

"Tell me!" Claire's eyes shine with a new excitement. I think of the way she re-enacted my fantasy about her this morning. I feel like I've tugged on a thread, only to realize it was attached to something inside of Claire.

"I Imagined you looking at my pussy, that you loved it and smiled," I tell her, watching her reaction. She is rapt. "I fantasized about spreading my legs wide for you and touching myself. When I came, I was imagining kneeling over your mouth and masturbating while someone watched us. That's what made me cum that night."

"Is that what you want?" Claire asks softly. "Is that what you want Helen to see?"

"I-"

The question surprises me, catches me off guard. For some reason, as I'd told Claire about my fantasy, I'd imagined Claire wanting to kneel over my mouth. I think of how I'd eaten Claire out from behind the night before, my face buried in her ass while she swore loudly. The lights had been on, had Helen watched that? Was she really watching us now?

'Do I really want Helen watching us?' I wonder. Helen is sexy and intriguing, but she is a stranger, nothing like Rebekah, who I adored. But then Claire decides for us.

"I want her to see that," Claire whispers, her voice shaking. "I want that very much."

"You want that?" I whisper back, stunned, my core hot and liquid. I'm looking out the open window at her darkened study, watching the shadows, imagining it.

I picture the older woman reclining in the big chair, her tight jaw, pale glinting eyes, her startlingly white hair and round breasts.

"She might not even be there," I tell Claire.

She's looking out the window too as she takes her tiny top by its hem and shimmies out of the tight little baby-t, up and over her head. Topless she looks down on me, breathing hard. Her breasts look swollen. Her nipples are so hard they are almost purple. I can't stop myself and glance back out the window, looking at the darkened widows across the way.

"But she might," Claire says, her face a furious red.

"You're blushing!"

"I know!" she laughs, clapping her hands over her face. "I've never done something like this... I mean where I know."

"We don't know..."

But even as I say it I know it's not true, Helen is watching us, I'm sure of it.

Taking hold of me, Claire rolls over, taking me with her, so I'm laying on top of her.

"Naked," she tells me. I feel her shimmying out of her trunks as I begin to rise onto my knees. I watch her slip the boy shorts off her feet and stretch out naked between my spread thighs. Straddling her waist I shrug. the blouse off my shoulder. Sitting back as I pull it down and off my arms, discarding it on the floor with a shaking hand. I grip the tops of Claire's legs, hoping to still my fingers. I'm sure she can feel my jitters even as I grip the tops of her thighs, but I don't care. I look out the open window. The shadows in the darkened study tell me nothing.

"Your breasts are incredible," Claire announces. "They look like they are stretching towards me - like they want to be bigger."

"They're already too big."

"No," Claire whispers. Reaching to touch them, from below with her finger tips. "I love them. You can't imagine how happy it makes me to see them, to touch them. They always look so... swollen!"

But then she seems to remember herself, glances at the window. I can't help smiling, realizing how entirely my breasts had distracted her.

"Now the panties" she says after a pause. Her voice is breathy and shaking, her face is flush. She's as afraid as I am.

I lean forward, so my face is close to hers, and ask, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she answers. "Show her."

She's staring up at me as I lean forward then climb to my feet. Standing on the bed with her between my legs I push my thumbs into the waistband of the panties. She smiles at me as I slide my thumbs around my hips and push my panties off my ass, bringing them down towards my knees, then propping myself against the wall I lift my left foot and let them slip down my down my right leg to the bed.

"I've soiled your mother's panties," I tease weakly, smiling down at her nervously, but Claire is looking out the window again. An apprehensive look in her eyes.

"Is this what it felt like with Rebekah?" she asks.

"No," I answer automatically, then second guessing myself, gauging my fear and excitement, trying to remember. "I don't know, maybe a little? This seems more... concrete? More real?"

Claire is looking up at me expectantly, her expression open and girlish. It strikes me that this is the first time we've done something that I have experience with and she doesn't.

"I remember being very scared at first... I mean after the first time? That time I was most afraid of being caught, but then, when I thought she might be watching, the fear was different."

"Different how?"

"Different like the first time you and I were together... scary but so exciting."

"Do you think Helen masturbates while she watches us?" Claire asks.

She's looking out the open window, staring into Helen's dark study. Because I'm standing, all I can see is my reflection in the raised window - the enormous double hung panes are like a black mirror, but the old glass is rippled like water. I remember hearing that there were windows in Boston that were so old the bottoms are thicker than the tops - that glass is just an extremely slow moving liquid. These windows are like looking into a lake at night.

I think of Rebekah, her big dark eyes, thick black hair and milk white skin. I remember the way I would strip in her room, how I would touch myself, wondering if she was watching, if she touched herself, hoping she was.

In the reflection I'm still leaning against the wall, legs spread over Claire. I look down at her, she's breathing hard, arms away from her sides, spread out on the bed. Her face and chest are flush.

"Yes," I told her, dropping to my knees, so they are straddling her face, blocking her view of Helen's study. I try to picture Helen in her chair. I imagine her smoking a cigarette in a silk robe, opening it in the dark and touching herself, watching us, wondering what I will do.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" I ask Claire. "That this is what you want her to see?"

"I want her to see that there's nothing I wouldn't do for you," she tells me.

My breath catches and my heart aches at her declaration. I lick my lips, which feel swollen, my abdomen is tight, making it hard to take deep breaths. I can feel my pussy pulse, dripping down my thighs. I smooth a hand down my belly and slip a finger between my lips, curling it into me. Claire watches as I slip a second finger in, pulling them apart, spreading myself for her.

"Tu es si belle Sarah," she says. Her arms are pinned under my shins, but she raises her hands and grips my hips tight, as she speaks, lifting her chin trying to reach my lips with hers. I pump my finger slowly in and out while she watches, her gaze adding to my pleasure. She cranes her neck and kisses my knuckles.

My fingers move from my lips to hers, from pushing into me to pushing into her. She looks at me as she sucks them, her tongue cleaning me, the thin wet of her saliva, her mouth, feels cool as it washes away my thick feverish cum. At what point had I convinced myself I was sexless? How long has this need raged in me?

"Oh God Claire..."

I am curling my fingers back into me. I'm like a furnace compared to Claire's beautiful mouth. I push deep, pressing hard against myself, coating them for her.

"Fuck my mouth Sarah" she begs, making my breath catch. Her lips shine with my cum. Claire is shameless, so totally unafraid.

"Please, Sarah."

And she's mine. Mine like Rebekah never was. Mine like Darci never was. Mine like I never was Danny's.

I smear her lips, wetting them before pushing my fingers into her mouth, I let her suck and play before I begin to pump. Her sucking matches my movements, drawing me in, sucking me deeper, then releasing me, slowing my fingers to almost entirely withdrawal before sucking desperately to have them back. I am fingering my clit with my left hand as I fuck her mouth with my right. Both hands are becoming clumsy, my movements jerky.

"Oh God!" I have to grab the headboard with both hands to stop myself from falling. My breathing is ragged gasps. "Oh God Claire..."

"I want you to ride me hard Sarah," she tells me. "I want you to be rough."

She's looking up, imploring me. I think of the hurt look in her eyes when I'd described how she rode me. I remember the bruising force of her heels digging into the small of my back urging me on, while she swore and cried out - how much it had excited me.

"I want you to, Sarah. Please."

I hook my hands back on the headboard and, gripping it, spreading my knees, lower myself gently until our lips meet. I cry out.

"Oh Claire!"

Her tongue is inside me, her lips press against me, her fingers claw as if she were holding onto me for dear life, but it's her eyes that make me throw back my head and cry out; her gaze, the adoration of her expression.

"CLAIRE!"

The window is open and my voice is loud enough that I wonder if Helen can hear, but I can't help myself.

"OH GOD YES CLAIRE!!"

It's too much, too fast. I don't want to cum yet.

I push my fingers into her hair, pinning her head to the mattress and raise myself so my pussy is just out of reach - floating over her mouth. I was so close - almost like a small orgasm, but hiding something bigger; the tip of an iceberg. The orgasm is receding, sinking into the depths. My skin is moist and beading with sweat and I'm panting hard. Claire's lips and cheeks are shining. Her eyes are bright and full of mischief.

"Why are you stopping?"

She knows, I can see it in her eyes. She's so pleased with herself, so pleased to see me this way. Her slut; shameless. I feel myself prickling with pride at her happiness; her approval. With Claire I am someone new, someone unrecognizable. With Claire I am the woman I have always dreamed of being.

"Do you think she can see?" she asks. My thighs are like blinders, she can't see the window. Looking up at me, eyes shine, her pupils are huge. Her hands are on my ass, squeezing and kneading my flesh.