Oblivion & Doubt Ch. 08

This series is a companion to my story Truth & Admiration.

My intent is not to offend, but this is a d/s lesbian romance with strong themes of nonconsent and reluctance. If that's not your cup of tea, I understand and hope you will find another story to enjoy.

As always I hope you will enjoy the story, and that if you do you will leave a comment.

XOSNS

*

Her mother had called the hotel in El Paso the night before, waking Leethie, who had fallen asleep with the lights on, on top of the bedspread with her pants at her knees. Her mother had been upset. Leethie had apologized and explained she had just fallen asleep, but that she was ok. She had told her about the drive, and looking out blankly at the city lights told her how nice the room was, and how much she liked the view. Leethie had promised she would call as soon as she arrived in Palm Springs.

She woke up early, checking out and making herself a cup of coffee at a loveless buffet before setting out. The trip to Palm Springs took Leethie through Phoenix, then into the desert. The drive was almost four hours longer than the day before, but not as nearly as hard for Leethie. As she got further from home her mind seemed easier; gentler. She spent less time attacking herself and more time enjoying the drive.

When she arrived it was dark and a sleepy-looking "bellboy" in his forties led her through the lobby and then out the back into what she at first thought was a courtyard, but was much larger than she expected. Behind the hotel was a surprisingly dense and lush garden that seemed to go on and on. Palms and other plants formed a dark labyrinthian path that wound deeper and deeper until the bellboy-man turned and there was a modest cottage hidden among the dark palms.

Her mother had been excited to book her the bungalow where Frank Sinatra used to stay. Leethie wasn't sure what she expected but was surprised that it turned out to be so small. It had a queen-sized bed and the furniture was nothing special, neither was the badly dated kitchenette. Her body was still humming from the road as she undressed, and climbed into the shower. She knew she needed to check in with her parents, that they would be worried and that her mother was anxious to hear about the room. Sitting on the end of the bed, she dialed home wrapped in a towel.

She stared at her toes as the phone rang. Her nails were chipping. She wondered if she'd have a chance to get a pedicure before she saw Miranda. She hoped so.

"Hi!...Yeah No, it was fine," she told her mother. "I like driving... No, the room is great... yeah, it was like walking through a jungle... no, it's fun. I like it. I'm fine, just tired I guess... I know, I'm being careful I promise... it's ok, I understand.... yeah, totally. Tell him I said good night."

She had taken a long shower, slowly turning down the cold until the water was as hot as she could stand; letting it beat down on her sore shoulders and neck. Still, they were stiff and her eyes ached. Her right calf had been cramping up for the last 100 miles or so of the drive. She peeled off the towel and lay back spread eagle, stretching and flexing her limbs with all her might.

Turning over she pushed the pillows to the floor, pulling the covers and down off the end of the bed. Crawling on her hands and knees to the middle of the bed she let her arms collapse, her face pressed into the crisp white sheets and her ass in the air, knees spread. She pushed her fingers through her hair, it was thick with damp and resisted her fingers. After a long day of driving with the windows it needed to be washed, but she didn't have the energy to dry it. Still, it felt good. She was thinking of Miranda's fine warm gray hair; imaging holding it tight.

Facedown, "Mother of Pearl" by Roxy Music played in her mind; it had become an earworm, forced on her tired thoughts now like the vibration of the motor and the momentum of the drive - both of which still played on her body as the song played on her mind. She had never liked Roxy Music; had always thought they were too strange. But the truth was she'd never given them much of a chance, dismissing them out of hand as weirdos; their creepy porny cover art. The first time she'd heard Mother of Pearl, Miranda had been playing it. Leethie had walked in during the slow part.

"Who is this?" she'd asked. "It's really good."

Miranda, who had been reading on her bed in their little room in Luca, looked up smiling. "Roxy Music." The two of them had already argued about the band, and Miranda had known how Leethie felt.

"No," Leethie laughed.

"Listen," Miranda had urged. Her legs had been folded and crossed up off the floor. Just a slip of a girl, so happy - almost triumphant - to share the song with Leethie.

And she had; for the first time, Leethie had really listened to Bryan Ferry's tortured enunciations and random trills. It had been in that moment, sitting across from Miranda on her narrow bunk, the two of them smiling at each other, lost in the song together, that she had reassessed her new friend. She had already known Miranda was smart, but for some reason, it was there and then that she realized Miranda was smarter than she was; much smarter.

Leethie mashed her face against the clean hotel linen, luxuriated in the feeling of her stretched spine. She'd grown to love the chaos of the first part of the song, but it was when the tempo dropped and the madness of the first part ended that Leethie still loved it the most.

The moment when Ferry started wearily "Well, I've been up all night," and the chorus chided "again?" but Ferry sings on, uninterrupted, "party-time wasting is too much fun."

It was the first song on the second tape Miranda had made her; the one that had been waiting for her when she and her father had gotten home after graduation. Miranda had written "DEUCE" on it in her curling script. Of all the tapes Miranda had sent it was the one Leethie listened to the most - but only when she was alone. It was the only tape she hadn't listened to on the way from Austin to El Paso; not because she didn't love it, she did. She loved it very much. But she avoided it because it made her uncomfortable. Of all the tapes it was the most personal, the most unabashedly sexual, the most unambiguously a love letter.

Before leaving El Paso she had taken it out of its case and popped it in. All-day she had returned to it, listening to it again and again as she cycled through her collection of mixed tapes. She wished she had it now, that the little bungalow had something she could play it on. In her mind, Ferry promised, "I wouldn't trade you for another girl!"

The hotel's AC cooled her naked skin, wicking away the last moisture from her shower. Despite the shower, her body still hummed from the road. With her eyes closed, she felt as if it were still speeding through the dark at 80mph. She pulled hard at her hair, her mind buzzed, and passages of the song seemed to burst from her skull in fits; power cords and drifts of the piano, blurts of sax.

"Submarine lover in a shrinking world!" Ferry singsonged, the music loud and clear in her mind, as if someone had jacked the volume of a radio, then spun it down again. A full-blown auditory hallucination.

'You need to sleep,' she told herself, knowing she had to wake up early. But as ready as her body was for sleep, after a full day of watching for cops and guarding against bad drivers, her mind was still on full alert.

Leethie stretched her arms out above her, enjoying the feel of her muscles pulling on her stiff joints, and the clean starched linen scraping against her palms. Moving them like wings, she swung her arms in wide arcs on either side of her until they were folded and tucked beneath her. Cupping her breasts she sighed and huffed. The soft flesh felt big in her hands, overflowing her grasp even as she splayed her fingers wide. Firm and smooth. Leethie was proud of her breasts, but she felt a stab of heat only as she pictured them touching Miranda's; the feel of her perfect little scoops; the drag of her rosy nipples.

Leethie's nipples stabbed at her palms as she imagined their breasts pressing together. She squeezed hard, dragging her face back and forth against the cool linen. Arching her back until she could feel the AC cool against her heated wet sex and gaping ass.

Leethie pinched and pulled at her nipples. Her mouth was wet as she tugged at them. Feeling them crinkle and grow thick and long. She let herself drool onto the sheets.

Wet was trickling down her thigh as she thought of Miranda crawling onto the bed behind her, her cool hands on the cheeks of Leethie's upturned ass.

"So so semi-precious in your detached world," Leethie hummed.

Her right hand pressed hard against her belly as she slid it towards her sex. The taught muscle wall of her abdomen felt good against her hand. She bit at the sheet as fingers crossed the smooth flesh of her mons. She thought of the night train, but even as she did her mind slipped forward to the night of the storm, her most treasured and illicit memory. Leethie felt Miranda's lips thickly red, glistening and drooling, close to her ear.

"Oh mother of pearl," she sang into the mattress, "I wouldn't trade you for another girl."

The storm had started as Leethie was walking to class. Big fat feathery flakes blowing softly, dusting her and the cars and sidewalks around her. Just enough so her boots made a satisfying squeak as she packed the fresh snow. But by the time she reached the coffee shop in McDowell Hall the campus was blanketed and a hush had fallen.

Her morning seminar had been interrupted repeatedly as she, her classmates, and even their professor had been distracted by the building storm outside the window. There was half a foot on the ground as she walked to the library from the canteen, and it was snowing hard enough to make the noonday light feel like twilight.

Oblivious, She had studied in quiet until early evening when a librarian found her and told her they were closing early. When she blinked in surprise the man had pointed at the windows.

"The storm," he told her. Some part of Leethie had heard the rattling frames, but she'd been so absorbed in her reading she hadn't paid it any mind.

Only as she packed up her things did she realize the library was already empty. There was a small group of students bundling up around the front entrance, bracing themselves to go outdoors. A different librarian was explaining that the storm was expected to break records. Wishing she'd worn a hat, Leethie followed the others out into the cold. She set out for home but stopped at the little Italian grocers to buy coffee, creme, sausage, pasta, broccoli rabe, and a couple of bottles of wine.

"Two feet!" the owner told her as he rang her up.

"We're almost there already," Leethie said, gesturing at her wet boots and the snow melting on her frozen jeans, but looking out at the blowing snow.

"Where's your hat?" he asked critically.

"I know, I know," she smiled back, in her thickest Texas drawl.

She usually enjoyed the walk to and from campus, but tonight the apartment felt very far away. The wind was against her as she pushed home. Wrapping both her arms around the shopping bag, she leaned forward as she walked. The flakes were smaller now, hard and sharp. they bit at her cheeks and stung her eyes, making it hard to see. The few cars out were moving slowly, if at all. She passed a van that was spinning its wheels in the middle of an intersection, the engine's high-pitched squeals hurt her ears.

She wished she'd worn mittens instead of the little knit gloves she had on. She squeezed the paper bag and tried tucking her fingers under her arms, away from the cold. She passed a man shoveling his walk, but he was the exception. Most of the way she was walking a narrow packed path, blanketed in fresh snow. But as she turned up her street there were just the ghosts of footprints to follow, and heavy deep drifts she had to kick her way through. Three blocks later she struggled to open the little iron gate. Climbing the stairs of her stoop there were just the barest dents demarking steps.

She was careful as she climbed the rickety wooden steps. The sticky squeaky snow of the morning had given way to frostier and more slippery varieties as the temperature had dropped. The snow had piled against the door. She had to pee.

Holding the groceries on her hip and pulling the glove off her free hand with her teeth, pushing stiff numb fingers painfully into her front pocket.

"Prease, prease..." she muttered as she dug in her front pocket right pocket for her keys. No luck. She felt her back but struck out. "Fffit!"

She reached across her front and hooked her frozen digits in her left pocket and dug, finally hooking them. She got the door unlocked and shoved it open with her shoulder. She pushed in and closed the door hard with her foot. The warmth of the musty dark hallway was a relief. Climbing the creaking steps she unclenched her jaw and dropped her glove into the bag of groceries. Everything was covered in an inch of melting snow.

"Fuck..." Leethie mumbled, shifting the bag to her right arm and grabbing the tips of her left glove in her teeth. Their apartment was at the very top of the three-story walk-up. Miranda's boots were next to the door on their landing. They were dry.

'Little bitch hasn't even been out,' Leethie thought jealously, but glad she thought to shop.

She was scraping at the lock with her key when Miranda opened the door looking rosy-cheeked and damp but bundled. She was wrapped in her robe, a hooded sweatshirt, sweatpants, heavy wool socks, and fluffy wool slippers. Her wet hair up in two of the messy little buns she called "knotties".

"Holy sh-" Miranda started, but her shock was cut off as she tried to suppress a laugh. "Oh my God, you look-"

"I know, I know," grumped Leethie, handing her the groceries. "Take these, I'm about to pee pants."

Leethie stomped her feet in the hall and began to struggle out of her wet coat. Snow fell off the top of her head and shoulders and landed in a pile at her feet. She realized why Miranda had wanted to laugh - she must look like a cartoon of someone caught in a snowstorm. She couldn't wait to take off her boots and instead gave them one last bang before tracking into the bathroom. Her jeans were stiff and icy-wet as she struggled to pull them down and dropped her frozen ass onto the toilet. She started peeing almost before she landed. Her thighs were cold and ruddy. Leethie let out a great sigh of relief and realized that she'd been holding her breath.

"Didn't have class this afternoon?" Leethie asked Miranda. She had left the door open and the two of them faced each other as Miranda unloaded the shopping bag onto the kitchen table. "It's awful out."

"Cancelled," Miranda told her, looking at the wine labels. "Oooh, yummy... Jesus, you really look frozen. You should take a bath. There's no heat."

"What?!?"

"Yeah. The power flickered an hour ago," Miranda told her. "At some point, I realized it was cooling down so I called Andre. He says the power going out shouldn't have caused a problem, but that he's trying to get someone here. He says the roads are a mess."

"Yeah, they are," Leethie agreed testily.

Andre was their landlord. He was Swiss and never smiled, but he clearly liked Leethie and Miranda. Any time they had an issue he took care of it right away. When they re-upped for a second year he'd actually cut their rent.

"You're always on time," he'd explained dryly.

Without getting up, Leethie bent over and began to work the laces of her boots. They were still packed with ice and frozen, her fingertips hurt. She moaned a little in frustration. Miranda's soft white fingers pressed into hers, they were wonderfully warm.

"Wha?" Leethie asked, looking up to see Miranda kneeling on the bathmat at her feet. For a moment she just took Leethie's fingers in her's, warming them. Leethie tried to pull her fingers away, but Miranda held them firmly in hers. "You don't-"

"Hush." Miranda kicked the bathroom door shut, reached for the tub, closed the drain, and turned on the hot water. "Whatever's wrong with the heat, the water is still hot - I just took a long shower, just to warm up. You should take a bath. You need a soak."

Steaming water filled the tub and Miranda worked at Leethie's icy laces as Leethie cleaned herself. She smiled as Miranda pulled off her boots.

"You need better boots," Miranda scolded gently, as she tugged at Leethie's soaking wet socks. "Jeez Leethie..."

"I know, I know," she admitted with a miserable laugh. Her toes were blue and wrinkled. "And a hat.."

"And a hat!" Miranda exclaimed as she gestured for Leethie to stand. They had had the conversation about Leethie's lack of warm dry clothes dozens of times.

Letting the toilet seat slam, she flushed and shook the little handle so it wouldn't run as Miranda worked to get the wet frozen jeans off of her. The bathroom was steaming up fast and Leethie realized how cold the apartment was. It had only felt warm in contrast to the street. She lifted her sweater and shirt over her head, pulling her hair free. Her skin was goosefleshed. She was shivering.

"Come on," Miranda prompted, and Leethie lifted her foot so Miranda could free it. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. Dropping it to the floor behind Miranda as she switched feet. Standing naked above her, smoothing her hands over the skin of her breasts, Leethie smiled at the sight of Miranda kneeling at her feet in her frumpy outfit. Even with the bathwater steaming up the room, the cold was too much, however. She shivered and hugged herself as stepped into the tub. Her skin was clammy and cold.

"OWWwwaH..." she whinged as her feet reacted to the hot water. "Pins and needles!"

"You're an idiot," Miranda told her, but took her elbow and helped her lower herself into the tub. "I'll be right back."

Leethie settled in up to her chin, letting the old claw foot tub fill high, and get so hot she felt a little crazy.

A few minutes later Miranda came back with two glasses of red wine. She gave Leethie one and sat on the toilet sipping the other.

"This town doesn't deserve D'Agata's," she told Leethie.

"I know, right?" Leethie agreed, sitting up to drink. Miranda was looking at her breasts, which Leethie liked; it made her feel proud. "He's always so nice too. Which one is this?"

"The Barolo," Miranda said.

"What did you do today? Leethie asked, setting her glass down on the tile beside the tub.

"Finished a paper for a class that will probably be canceled,' Miranda complained. "Thom called just before you got home. He and Chris and Ali and a bunch of others are getting together at The Alibi tonight."

"No way," Leethie said flatly, "I'm not going back out."

"Yeah, that's what I told him," Miranda agreed, giving her a worried look.

Leethie let her head slip under the water. The Alibi was a little dive bar on the far side of campus. But even if it weren't for the walk, she didn't want to see Thom and the others. Thom and Miranda had been telling her Chris was into her, but she sensed a contempt from him whenever they were together.

'Fuck that guy, she thought. But things had gotten strange for her on campus generally, besides Miranda she felt more and more like no one really wanted her around.

"We'll have a night in," she heard Miranda say through the bathwater, her voice murky and distant. She was standing as Leethie came up for air. "I put the pasta water on. Take your time, I've got dinner."

Miranda pulled the door closed, and Leethie stared at the space where she'd been. She had planned to make dinner as a surprise. She hadn't expected to find Miranda still home. Of the two of them, Miranda was the better cook by far, but Leethie liked to treat her as best she could, and knew she liked to be cooked for. Still, she was glad Miranda had taken over and that she could soak.