Lost in Texas Ch. 04

Laurie was more than a little humbled by Jenny's speech. She never realized the kind of impact that she and Heather and Alice had made. But thinking about it, their little group had been slowly growing. There were musicians, sorority girls, restaurant employees, and neighbors . . . just a rather odd menagerie of people who had started hanging around. Laurie hugged Jenny back.

"I don't want it to be over yet either," Laurie said before Jenny wandered off, leaving Laurie alone with her thoughts.

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That evening . . .

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"Ooh," moaned Alice, thrusting her breasts against Liz's hands. The two of them had decided that they wanted at least one more sexual fling before they left the next morning, but they also wanted to talk. So they had decided to bypass their usual dom/sub session for something a little more conventional. For them, conventional meant tying Alice to the bed with silk scarves while completely naked. Liz was straddling her stomach and playing with her soft breasts. Liz had wanted to find out how much teasing and twisting those nipples could take, and the answer at the point was "a lot." Just because Alice wasn't wearing the collar, there was no mistaking who the dominant person was in the girls' sexual relationship. Liz had just pinched those little nubs and pulled them out as far as they could go, watching Alice's face glow with pleasure.

"You are such a little freak!" Liz said with a laugh before pulling on those nipples again, eliciting another moan.

"Since when did that bother you?" Alice gasped. The girl's normally somewhat stoic face was smiling and flushed with excitement.

"I was just making an observation," Liz said, leaning in to kiss the bound woman before playing with her breasts some more. After a minute, her touch became a little gentler, but she never removed her hands from their playthings. "So, should we interfere, or should we let Heather and Laurie work things out for themselves?"

"We might have to say something to Heather to at least get her to talk to Laurie, but past that . . . a little harder . . . oh that feels good . . . past that, it's going to be all in Heather's court. We know how Laurie feels. I think she's really sorry about what happened and I believe she'd do anything to make things better, but it doesn't mean much if Heather's already made up her mind. Like you were saying, she can hold a grudge to the point of obscenity." Alice gasped again as Liz sucked on of the girl's nipples into her mouth and then pinched it lightly with her teeth. When that got a pleasurable reaction, she moved on to the other breast. Alice was straining against the scarves in a vain attempt to force her nipples further into Liz's mouth, but the older girl was too skilled at the art of teasing. She sat up straight and used one hand to play with Alice's breasts while the other hand reached back to play with the girl's vulnerable pussy. "Oh you are so bad to me in such a good way," Alice whimpered as she tried to grind her crotch against Liz's hand.

Liz smiled, but then got serious again. Or at least as serious as she could get while molesting a nubile nineteen-year-old college coed who was willingly tied to a bed. "I'll have a word with her. She and I are a lot alike, and I think I might understand her thought processes better than most." Liz started pumping her fingers faster and tugging on one of Alice's nipples a little harder. Alice arched her back slightly as her breath escaped her body. "Were you planning on telling your friends down on the ranch?"

Alice was seriously trying to squirm under Liz's constant attentions. She also realized that since Liz didn't know Jane, Freddie and Michelle, she was a little threatened by the influence those ladies had on her girlfriend's life, particularly Michelle. "No," Alice groaned as Liz started rubbing Alice's clit with her thumb, "I wasn't going to call them unless things get really ugly. We need to start . . . to start . . . to start relying more on ourselves than on . . . oh, faster please . . . than on them whenever we have a problem."

"Good idea," muttered Liz as she curled her fingers in to stimulate Alice's g-spot while thumbing her clit.

"Don't be so . . . so suspicious. They mean a lot to us and Michelle means a lot to me, but if it weren't for them, I might still be . . . be in the closet," Alice said, sweating profusely and finding coherent speech more difficult to produce, "and I might not be here having a . . . a . . ." Alice's body shook like an earthquake and she pulled against all of her restraints as her body experienced the perfect pleasure. Liz kept pulling on Alice's nipples through the entire climax, making sure her lover associated the two sensations. Finally it ended.

"That was incredible," Alice murmured contentedly.

"I'm glad you liked it. But we still have hours before we need to get to sleep, and I have other plans for you," Liz whispered and leaned over to kiss Alice's beautiful lips.

"Like what?" Alice asked coyly.

Liz reached over and grabbed one of the candles they had lit before their lovemaking began. Alice's eyes shot open.

"You wouldn't dare!" Alice exclaimed as a small drop of hot wax touched down on her chest.

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That same evening, back at the college . . .

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Heather swore she would never, EVER get on a Greyhound bus again. She had just spent the better part of two days in the most uncomfortable vehicle she had ever thought could exist. She took a cab back to campus. Her car was still at the airport, but she had left her car keys with the rest of her luggage back in Florida. Luckily she had her dorm keys with her. She had told Liz that she could drive the car home. She had only gotten back twenty-four hours earlier than if she had just waited and flown back with the others, but she couldn't stand to be around Laurie for that long.

She opened up the door, went inside and immediately opened up one of the boxes she used for moving. She started throwing in it all the stuff she had gotten from Laurie. She quickly ran out of room and had to open another box. That was almost full by the time Heather was done. And Heather realized that she almost literally had nothing left to wear.

"I can go buy some sweats and stuff tomorrow. And maybe some new boxers . . ." Heather stopped in her tracks. She didn't want to dress like that again. She liked being a little sexy. "Maybe I can pick up some jeans at Wally World too." And much to her chagrin, she discovered that she kind of wanted to keep the thongs. "Why not? It's not like anyone else is going to wear my old underwear." She reached into one of the boxes and put her large collection of thongs back into their drawer. Then she put her Ramones shirt back in the closet. Then . . . "Oh what the hell am I doing?" she asked of the non-respondent cardboard boxes. "I'm too tired for this shit right now." Heather took the boxes of the bed and lay down, fully dressed. The emotional turmoil she had been experiencing and the interminable bus trip had taken their toll. The last thing she remembered thinking before drifting off to sleep was, 'Why do I still miss her?'

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The next morning . . .

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Heather woke up far earlier the next morning than she probably should have. It was still dark outside when she opened her eyes, and the mocking glow of her alarm clock proclaimed it to be 4:30 a.m. That was when she realized that she was spooning her pillow. That was when it hit her. Laurie wasn't there, and she wasn't sure if Laurie would ever be there again. Despite everything that Laurie had said and done, Heather realized she missed the girl. And then she almost hated Laurie. Why should Heather feel bad about being lied to and for feeling humiliated? Heather punched a pillow. Then she punched the wall, pounded her fists on the computer desk and then put a hole in the bathroom door. She barely noticed that both her hands were aching and that the knuckles on her right hand were bleeding. This destructive streak lasted for several minutes before her hands were simply not able to take any more punishment. The things she was hitting weren't flesh and bone, so they had no give.

Luckily, the campus had excellent health services that opened at five in the morning and were open over the break. Heather headed down there and a very concerned looking doctor cleaned up her hands, told her nothing appeared to be broken and then asked if she needed to talk to the police or a counselor. Heather just glared and refused. When she left the clinic, she didn't go home. She just started walking. Normally these walks helped clear her head, but it wasn't helping. She came to one realization. It shouldn't be that hard to be angry with Laurie.

She wandered around the campus area for hours. The place was eerily calm. She found herself wandering places that she and Laurie used to go, and even stopped and stared at the window to Laurie's room at her sorority house. She had so many good memories from inside that room. And from her own room. Heather began to wonder what those memories meant, to her or to Laurie. She couldn't help but feel bile building up in her throat. Had she just been kidding herself for nine months? She remembered sitting in that room and having Laurie ask her if Heather saw the blonde girl as "a summer fling." Had Laurie just been the rich girl who was slumming with the poor and angry daughter of a couple of drunks? Had Laurie's father found that out and told his daughter to upgrade her taste in women or keep it discreet? Had he threatened to cut off the funding she loved so much?

Heather shook her head and headed back towards her room. It couldn't have all been fake, could it? There were too many shy glances, happy smiles and morning snuggles. Laurie had made Heather a better person, so why was she ashamed of her now? Had Victor Frankenstein's monster lost its new-toy smell, causing the good doctor to want to destroy his own creation? Heather stopped and rested her head against a tree. She had to stop doing this. First of all, her analogies were getting pretentious. Second of all, she knew that she was letting theory and innuendo cascade into an avalanche of irrational thought.

As she approached her dorm, she noticed a limousine idling in the parking lot. That was a strange sight. And as she approached her door, there was a man standing there. From behind, she could only tell that he was tall with gray hair, and that he was immaculately dressed. She thrust her bandaged hands into her pockets, despite the pain it caused her.

"May I help you?" she asked.

The man turned around. He appeared to be in his fifties and was wearing a three-piece suit. What the hell was someone wearing a suit for at seven o'clock in the morning? And why was he knocking at her door? Heather couldn't shake the feeling that he looked familiar to her.

"Are you Ms. Heather Englund?" he asked.

"Yes. Can I help you?"

The man bowed his head. "I suspect you can, but I question whether or not you will." He looked Heather in the eyes. "My name is Michael Loomis. I'm Laurie's father."

Heather would have been less surprised in the Publishers Clearinghouse Sweepstakes crew had been waiting outside her door. And she probably would have been a lot more pleased.

"Your daughter isn't back yet. She's still in Florida. And when she gets back, I SERIOUSLY doubt you'll be finding her here, which should make you quite happy."

"I figured you'd be stubborn. I'm not here to speak to Laurie. Actually, she doesn't know that I'm out here. I came to speak to you and whether you want to listen or not, we have a great deal to speak about." Heather could tell this was a man used to getting his way. He was a lot like his daughter in that respect. "Please," he continued, "I've gone through a great deal of trouble to get here before she returns, and I'd like to be gone before she gets back. All I'm asking for is ten minutes of your time."

Heather looked him over. "Fine. There's a convenience store about fifteen minute's walk from here. You've got until I grab my first cup of coffee."

"So we'll be walking?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"We walk," she responded and headed towards the store. If she was going to endure his presence, it would be under her terms and not his.

He signaled to the limo for the driver to kill the engine and quickly caught up with the angry brunette. "First, can I assume that my daughter has told you about my lack of involvement her growing up?"

"Yeah, but what does . . ."

"It is relevant to the discussion, I assure you. I love my daughter. I never consciously decided to minimize my role in her upbringing. It wasn't until she was a teenager that I realized how little I really knew her. She seemed to be such a happy and well-adjusted child that I decided not to try and over-parent to make up for my lack of involvement earlier. But I did try and take more of an interest. I discovered that there was a delightful young woman who had grown up in my house, but I had never even noticed." He sighed before continuing. "I've only wanted the best for her, but I've tried to respect her very potent will. When she told my wife and me that she was gay, I tried to be supportive despite my own concerns. And no, I am not nor was I ever homophobic. But it is an area of confusion for some young people, and I just wanted for her to be sure. I wanted her to go to an Ivy League school, but she wanted to come here," he said as he pointed his chin in the general direction of the college. "When I wanted her to major in something sensible, she wanted to pursue music. No offense. But I supported her, letting her go where she wanted and do what she wanted. But then there came you."

"What about me?" Heather asked, curious in spite of herself.

"About a year and half ago, I noticed when talking to her that she wasn't quite as lively as she had been before. I thought at first that she was having trouble adjusting to college life. I kept asking her if there was anything I could get her that would make her feel better. She kept telling that the one thing she wanted," he said and then, after a pause, "couldn't be bought."

Heather started to blush. She had an idea where this story was going.

"I can see that you have probably guessed what happened next. Sometime last summer, she 'got happy' again. Actually, she was happier than I'd ever seen. Because she'd gotten what she had wanted and hadn't needed my help. I'll give you three guesses what that thing was, and the first two guesses don't count."

"I'm quite familiar with the story at that point," she said a bit acidly. 'Probably more familiar than you'd like to hear about,' she thought smugly.

"I'm sure you are. Anyway, since then, you're all she talks about. And I'll admit to having been a bit jealous. I'd be talking about important legislation, and she'd start talking about how you sang Pat Benetar at some karaoke bar."

"O'Malley's."

He stopped and looked confused. "Excuse me?"

"O'Malley's. It a restaurant that has a karaoke machine. It's the place where we work."

Suddenly, he looked very confused. "What do you mean by ' we work'? Laurie works there?"

Heather was surprised. She had just assumed Laurie had told him. "Yeah. Since January."

Mr. Loomis looked mildly annoyed as he pulled out his PDA and started writing something down. He glanced up at her. "Sorry. I apparently have to have a discussion with the lady who does my taxes. Soon." He shook his head, but he was still smiling. "That girl is going to be the death of me."

Heather grinned a little bit herself. How many times had she thought that about Laurie?

"Anyway, I realized I couldn't compete with you for her attention. But she still called and came home from time to time, so I didn't think I was really missing out. She was happy, so I was happy. She was becoming more and more . . . well, brazen. It seems that being with you gave her a great deal of confidence. Now, we skip ahead to the recent unpleasantness. The hierarchy in my political party has been looking for a new leader in the Senate, and I'm fortunate enough to have been the primary choice. When I heard that Laurie was going to be going down to Florida for spring break . . ."

"Yes," said Heather bitterly, "I got that part. You didn't want her to embarrass you and I guess that I was what you meant."

"Actually, no. There have been a number of incidents recently where indiscretions on the part of children of political figures have made front-page news. I didn't care that she was going out with a girl. I couldn't hide that forever, even if I wanted to. And I don't. I just told her to be discrete in her behavior. I guess I didn't explain myself that well. I didn't want her getting drunk and doing something illegal or stupid. I didn't want her showing up one of those 'Wet and Wild' videos. And maybe I didn't want her wearing the smallest possible swimsuit she could find, and don't tell me that you would have discouraged her. Maybe I'm being a little paranoid, but I was young once too. I know what young people do in that kind of environment. I never asked her to do the things she did. She was trying to help me out and she got carried away. I had no idea what was going on until the night after you left."

Heather stopped. So everything had been a misunderstanding? Had it been entirely Laurie's idea to shut Heather out? Had it been Laurie's idea to lie? She felt her shoulders start to shake and she struggled to keep back the tears. It would have been so much easier if she could have just hated Laurie's father. But the idea of hating Laurie still felt like a knife in the gut.

Mr. Loomis realized that there was something wrong with Heather. Her eyes had closed and her lips were trembling. "Listen, you don't have to believe me if you don't want, but I'm willing to bet everything that Laurie did what she did because she thought that's what I wanted, but without specific instructions, things got out of control." He stood in front of and caught her gaze. "She thinks the world of you. She knows now that she made a mistake. She called me the night after you left. She told me that she wasn't willing to give you up just for my career and that if I really loved her, I would accept that. Obviously I was confused since I never asked her to give you up. We talked a long time. Once I got it through to her that I had never wanted her to 'not have fun' over spring break, much less to give up something she had fought so hard for . . . well, she cried for a bit. Then she said that regardless of what I'd meant, I'd have to trust her to know the difference between having fun and being stupid. She told me that she'd been stupid often enough that she had learned the difference."

Even though she was mad at the girl, Heather's instinct was to chastise Laurie for that comment. Laurie wasn't stupid. She was just . . . confused. A lot.

The two of them had reached the convenience store and gone inside. Heather pulled her hands out of her pockets to pour a cup of coffee.

"What happened to your hands?" he asked.

She suddenly felt very self-conscious, and her hand was trembling so much that she had to put the coffeepot down. Mr. Loomis grabbed it and poured them both a cup.

"What do you take in yours?" he asked, his voice gentle.

She steadied her hand and took a cup and sipped it. "I like it black."

"You must have a stomach of iron," he joked, still staring at her hands. Then his face grew serious. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out that she'd been hitting something. "I have one question for you. She told me she hit you. I also know from previous conversations with Laurie that you have a temper. From a purely rational standpoint, you would have been perfectly in your rights to hit her back. So why didn't you?"