Love's Wicked Craft Ch. 04

Senses keen, a new sexual tension forming between them, their pussies swelling and drooling with fresh anticipation, each beginning to twitch inside the mouth of the other. An instant more, Cat realized the addition of Hannah's fingers, Hannah's long fingers, sliding into her pussy, sliding out again, then up, sliding back down again, getting more justice, and then painting the breach of her ass hole. There her fingers remained for a time, one, then two, then three, pushing, turning and priming.

Presently, she pulled them out and there was a new, quick, flutter of movement. Inside her head, Cat saw Hannah reach for the tube of lube, and then for the eggplant. An instant after that, there came a new pressure, slight at first, but, insistent. Cat imagined the eggplant, shining with slick, Hannah's eyes, watchful, Hannah's hands, cautiously steady, pushing the thing, turning the lube tipped eggplant ever so gradually deeper.

Between the fingers Hannah was fucking her pussy with and the vegetable she'd inserted into the hole of her ass, Cat was definitely feeling full. But, there still seemed to her some dissonance between the amateur porn flick running in her head and what her body was feeling. A moment more and Cat was rising to her hands and knees. Her nerve endings electrified with teeming endorphins, she spread her knees, arched her back and began to effect a lazy rhythm with her pelvis, tilting it gently forward and back.

Her head low, the movie in her mind faded to black, Cat began to lose herself in the wilderness of the steady music of Hannah's breathing, the stimulating aroma of Hannah's pussy in her nose and of the intense sensations rippling through her core. Gradually, Cat came to recognize something new, a welcome quality to the ethereal sanctuary she'd found herself in. A sound was pulling her back to reality, a distant droning of a honey bee, swooping from flower to flower. It was her drooling that brought her finally, solidly back. How awkward. Cat raised her head and wiped her mouth. How ill-mannered. Oh Hannah has a vibrator on my- Oh that's nice. That's really, really nice.

"Push it in." Cat panted.

"What," asked Hannah, "the vibe?"

"The eggplant!"

"Oh. More?"

"Oh my God Hannah! Yes, push it in."

"Is that good?"

"More."

"Cat, I'm gonna have trouble getting the fucking thing back out!"

"It's fine! Now fuck me with it, nice and easy, like you did in my pussy."

"Like this?"

"Yes, just like that. Oh yes. Keep it, yes, yes. The vibe on my clit, steady. Oh. Yes. Yes! Oh Hannah! Oh Hannah! Oh my God Hannah! Ah, ah, ah, yeah, yeah, yeah!!! Fuck! Yes, yes, yes!!!"

Finally spent, Cat lowered her head again. Then, no longer able to support her weight, she collapsed onto Hannah's legs. The orgasm, her third, continued to resonate through her body. She couldn't be certain whether Hannah was aware of the fact or not, but her friend began to gently tickle and massage the bottoms of her feet, which extended the life of Cat's ecstasy, sending a shivering chain reaction from the tips of Cat's toes to the tips of her fingers.

It was almost ten minutes later that Cat began to feel self-conscious about being sprawled on her friend, her eggplant packed ass in her face. Shit, I've got to get that thing out of me. Slowly then, Cat began to rise.

"Stop Cat." Hannah said as she slowly slid herself free, "I got it."

"Uh, Hannah? It's okay. I'll-"

"Quiet. I got it I said. Now don't move."

Cat watched Hannah's reflection, her expression solemn yet contended, her fingers plucking more than a few wipes from the tub. Staring as she braced herself, the awkwardness she'd felt had succumbed to something else, something more, agreeable, she smiled inwardly while shaking her head slightly, thinking: Does this make us lovers now? Is that a foregone conclusion?

When is it a risk to have hope? Sexual fluidity? Shit, I'm drowning. Can I handle having a closet to come out of? I know this woman. I have seen her in some wicked, dark places and I've helped her see her way back out of them. I know who she really is inside her Asperger's. Cat paused her train of thought, both distracted by and keenly tuned to what she knew, what she'd known in her heart. I, I love her and, no matter what happens now, I'm bound to her.

"Ow Hannah, holy shit!" Cat suddenly shouted.

Turning around to face her, Cat saw her friend holding the now very dull skinned eggplant casually aloft, gripping it in a handful of wipes. Shrugging, Hannah eyed Cat with an innocent, bemused expression.

"What?" she said, "You mean that was your first?"

5

Later, the night succumbing to the inexorable blue of a new dawn, Hannah sat naked in one of the chairs on her patio, lost in thought, smoking and listening to the earliest birds sing their heralding of the morning. She had quietly crept out of bed, feeling bad about leaving the inside of Cat's spoon, but waking had pulled her out of sleep and, as it always was with her, once awake, she couldn't just lay there. So, she put their clothes in the washer, prepared a little surprise for Cat, and then stepped outside to enjoy the hushed beauty of the death of another night.

They'd lain together after the sex for a time while Cat let her ass settle. The women, the friends, as they settled in beside each other, had regarded one another awkwardly at first, as if they should dress immediately again, plan their next visit, and then go their separate ways. But, Cat's expression had turned somber and noticeably melancholy which, in turn, had inspired a similar expression in Hannah's.

Then, still without speaking, their expressions continued to soften and, if any discomfort had troubled either one, the other or both, it had been nullified in the next instant, harmoniously killed by the passion of a new kiss. What followed was an encore of love making, a generous gift to the audience of each other, mouths, fingers and eyes lingering, roving, dallying, meandering their way to each other's ultimate sensual fruition.

"Hey."

Hannah turned and saw Cat peeking out from the open sliding door, the rest of her hidden behind the curtain.

"You're naked!" she hissed.

"So are you." Smiled Hannah, "Come out here. It's nice. The neighbors are still asleep."

"How about you put out that cigarette?"

Hannah did as she was asked. Cat quietly let herself out of the house, scanned the area as she crossed to the other side of the table, took the free chair, and then parked it between Hannah and access to the sliding door. Then, watching Cat brush the seat off and sit in it, Hannah said:

"You, Catherine Wisneuski, are a fantastic lay. Don't change a thing baby. Don't change a thing, good God almighty."

Blushing, Cat began to laugh loudly before quickly covering her mouth.

"Yeah, well," she answered, "you've always managed to bring out the worst as well as the best in me."

Hannah studied her.

"Well, I was thinking it was because, you had a good teacher. But, oh yeah?" she queried, "The best, in you?"

Cat sobered, her laughter trickling to an end.

"Well, yes." She affirmed, her lips smiling cautiously, her tone shy and sweet, "You're my bud, Hannah."

Again, their eyes transfixed, full with warmth and knowing, they came together with a kiss, each unaware of the goose bumps that tingled along their shoulders and arms.

"I have a surprise for you." Hannah announced as they parted again.

"Really? And what would that be?"

"Wait here."

Hannah rose to her feet, and then went into the house. Momentarily, she returned with a single large plate, upon which was a square cake lathered in green frosting. A pair of forks and some napkins.

"Ta da!" she sang, handing the cake to Cat, "Happy birthday Pussy Cat!"

"Oh this is nice dude, but it's not my birthday."

"Here. Have a fork. I know it's not your birthday stupid. This is the new Cat's birthday because I wasn't around to celebrate her when she first came into being."

Cat regarded Hannah, eyeing her with bemused warmth.

"Uh, the new Cat isn't supposed to eat this sort of stuff. And, you've never baked in your life! Where did this come from anyway?"

Hannah smiled as she forked herself a mouthful, and then devoured it.

"Please! You'll work this off in no time." She answered, my little concoction here is actually a bunch of frozen Devil Dogs. I put green food coloring in the frosting for your eyes. You have very pretty eyes, you magnificent, sexy thing. Now eat your cake."

For a time, they contentedly ate the cake, but neither could manage taking in more than a few bites of the very sweet stuff. Setting the cake, their forks and their used napkins down on the table, Hannah looked at her cigarettes and her lighter, reached, and then thought better of it.

"Hannah?"

"Yeah Cat?"

She watched as Cat considered what she was about to say.

"What we did and, how we went about doing it, did you need, were you looking for, any of that, top and bottom, you know, dom and sub, stuff?"

Hannah looked away for a moment, glanced at the garden, and then returned her gaze to Cat.

"No Cat." She answered, "What we did was beautiful. It was after care without the after."

After care?"

"Yeah, it's the calming down time after the really heavy stuff ends."

"Oh. Hannah, I'm a sub, right?"

"Nope. I mean, the old Cat, she was all sub. You, this you, you're a top."

"Hmm, really?"

"Oh come on Cat! It's ridiculous, like night and day."

Cat blushed and scanned the neighbor's windows again.

"Is it important to you," she asked, "what you said, in the grave yesterday, you being someone's top?"

Hannah sat back in her chair and glanced between Cat and a random stretch of patio. Then, shrugging, she answered:

"I'd like to find out, maybe."

A silence weighted between them as more birds joined to herald the brightening day, their songs both complimenting and expanding the first group's chorus.

"Do, do you want my help," Cat said suddenly, "you know, to figure it out?"

Hannah turned to face her.

"Because I'm totally willing," Cat went on, "I mean, I would have some, limits, of course, but I'm-"

"Curious?" Hannah finished for her.

Cat paused to look toward the garden, lush and overrun with weeds.

"Well, yeah, I'm curious." She answered.

Hannah eased forward, leveled a very serious gaze at Cat and said:

"Well, how about you study up a bit on the web and stuff, and then we'll decide who, between us, is more suited to topping?"

"Yeah but, how does that help you?"

Hannah smiled, then kissed Cat.

"It's still sex Cat. It'll help me just fine."

Back inside the house, Hannah fell into a rhythm of cleaning the place and, while waiting for her clothes to come out of the dryer, Cat joined in. Listening to music from a play list they'd compiled together years before, the friends punctuated their activity with snatches of catching up, breaking suddenly into song, dancing a few steps or finding themselves in occasional interludes of passionate kissing. Hannah was having a great time watching Cat vacuuming naked and admiring the pendular to and fro of her breasts as she scrubbed the kitchen counters. But ultimately, most of the cleaning done, Cat took her clothes out of the drier and put them on.

"I thought I'd go out and weed the garden," she said, poised by the sliding door, "before I wash up and head out to the gym. Is that okay?"

Hannah was emptying her dish washer.

"Yeah," she answered, "sure. I'll be out in a few minutes."

Cat gave Hannah a brisk nod, and then let herself out. Music was still coming from the Bluetooth speaker, but Hannah wasn't really hearing it, wasn't listening. She was staring at the spot that Cat had just vacated, watching memories of Cat sitting beside her earlier that morning on the patio, of her during their licentious Tryst the night before and her lying beside Hannah in the grave she'd dug. The grave she dug was now six feet under, empty, full, a its creation in the first place a, a what Hannah: a symptom, a means of alleviating anxiety, a symbolic yet wholly empty gesture, the first element to a plan of retaliation, a pretty stupid fucking waste of time? I was trying, to prove, that I could see the stars, hop bars, rock guitars, settle on Mars, pickle jars, muscle cars, Chase scars-

There came a sudden plaintive meow and the feeling of Mrs. Skitters walking a figure eight between and around Hannah's feet. Effectively pulled her out of her trance, Hannah went about finding another can of food for the cat, and then the can opener. That was when her eyes came upon it, the land line, and its red message light dimly glowing. After tending to the Mrs., Hannah picked up the phone and played her voice mails as she turned the rest of her attention back on the dishwasher's contents.

There were three messages. Two were from her mother, loving life in California, still no intention of flying back for a visit, but I hope you're doing well, so call me back when you can. Yes, I know, we're both big girls now. Nothing from Chase? Fallen from grace? Fell flat on your face? What a disgrace. She needs more than space. Whatever, bitch. Then there was the third message from, how long ago, four months? Hannah set the phone on speaker and set it down.

"Hi Hannah." Spoke a male voice, soft, deep and familiar, "It's, Parker, Parker Sorrenson?"

The voice faltered, struggled for words, giving her the chance to remember, giving her the chance to go ahead and just erase the message. But, she hadn't. Naked, arms folded, Hannah remembered and listened.

"Look, I know you'll have very strong reservations about returning my call. It's just that I was hoping I could talk it out with you; finally, and somehow resolve our past. There's, there's always something deep in me, nagging, something that keeps reminding me of the mistakes I've made, and-"

Mistakes? We all make mistakes, you shit. What makes yours so special?

"I wish to offer myself up to you, to reconcile our past, to atone for what I'd done; to you. I mean, people say that I shouldn't beat myself up because no one remembers the stupid shit you do. I don't know. I, I just want to know how you're doing. So, that's it. Until maybe, bye."

Until maybe was a Parker thing, a "I know you want me to stop insisting that we do this or that so I'll just say until maybe instead" thing. He had devastated her. She had had loved him. They were each, each other's first, silly, joyful, fun, talking all night on the phone, after school together, alone, fumbling fingers and mouths, clumsy, for the most part uneventful, protected sex, enthralling herself with him, as mediocre as he was, because that's what normal kids did, get all sorts of caught up until-

Really? You want to offer yourself up to me? You want to reconcile our past? You want to atone for what you'd done to me? Please Parker. Sure, you say that's what you want, but I know what you really want and I know you'll take what you can get.

Hannah re-saved the message, then set the phone back in its cradle. Pensive, the sensation of blood pulsing at the base of her throat, she raised the blinds over the window above the kitchen. Hannah looked toward the garden, the top of Cat's head just visible, bobbing in a sea of green. Presently, Cat rose to her feet, put her hands on her hips and took stock of what lay sprawled around her. Hannah closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She felt very fortunate. She was grateful, genuinely grateful that Cat was back in her life and that the relationship had suddenly changed into a deeper, more fluid, thing. It was good that Cat had evolved, had become enlightened, and stronger. That's what women needed, enlightenment, strength and discipline. As for men, they needed discipline too and, Hannah had a very good feeling that Parker would agree.

"Fine then." She whispered to herself, "I'll be ready. And, if you're willing to take it Parker, then sure, I'll dish it out to you."