Oblivion & Doubt Ch. 11

Leethie felt absolutely no contrition about what she and Miranda were doing behind Thom's back; he had forfeited his claim as far as she was concerned. Not that she would have had any compunction otherwise. Miranda liked eating Leethie's pussy, and Leethie liked having her do it. Leethie told herself there was nothing more to it than that, that her love for Miranda wasn't romantic. But just thinking that simple formula made heat bloom in Leethie's breast.

"This is sex," Miranda had said seriously from between Leethie's thighs, her face and naked body beaded with sweat." We're having sex. I'm cheating on Thom with you."

But Leethie didn't care. She was looking forward to saunaing with Miranda again this weekend. The image of Miranda going down on her in the heat, her lips, swollen and parted, dripping saliva, hung in Leethie's mind's eye.

She had gone from soaping herself to rubbing herself. She found herself thinking of their first night in the little shower, of kissing Miranda, of telling her she loved her. She stopped herself and let the water rinse her. Turning off the water she stood for a time dripping and panting. After calming herself down she climbed out of the little stall and grabbed her towel. She looked down at herself as she dried off, at her breasts, her stiff engorged nipples, her soft flat belly, and the smooth hairless rise of her mons. She thought of watching Linda suck her off. How pretty she had been, the thrill of cuming in her mouth, remembered calling out Miranda's name.

"Who's 'Miranda'?" Leethie was still panting, Linda was holding her, she had moved up next to her in the bed and wrapped an arm around Leethie's waist. Her mouth was next to Leethie's cheek, she could smell her cum on Linda's breath.

"Miranda?" Leethie asked. "What about Miranda?"

"You called her name," Linda whispered, moving her mouth close to Leethie's ear.

"I did?" Leethie felt herself blushing. "Weird. I don't know. Nothing, I guess?"

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?! No, I'm not- No there's nothing like that." Leethie was looking at the ceiling, she just wanted to catch her breath. She wished Linda would shut up.

"It's OK if she is," Linda told her. "I mean... it's ok with me."

Leethie turned to look at Linda, who was staring at her, a worried look on her face. Her chin and cheeks were glazed, her lips looked thick, almost swollen.

"I don't- I mean I'm not-" Leethie started. She didn't want to talk about this, didn't want to think about their last night together, the things that didn't happen, could have happened, the reminder of regret, about Her with Him. The thought of them left a bitter taste in her mouth. The more she thought about it she didn't want to continue to think about Her.

Linda began to squeeze and pet Leethie's side, her hand moving up to cover Leethie's breast.

"Roll over," Leethie told her. Linda had been raising herself up on her other arm, moving in to kiss Leethie, but she stopped, a smile ghosting her lips. She dropped back down and rolled onto her back. Leethie rose up and climbed over her, straddling Linda's waist. She was looking down on her, her long blonde hair falling around their faces, Linda was smiling up at her, she looked excited. Leethie knew what she wanted, knew what she could give her.

"Are you ready?" Leethie asked. "Do you want more?"

"Yes," Linda answered, a momentary flash of fear crossing her face. "I'm ready, I want... more."

Leethie lifted herself up off the bed, shifting her knees forward until they were on either side of Linda's head, pinning her arms under her shins. Smiling down on the beautiful girl, she put her hand on the top of her head, and lowered herself onto her mouth, gently pulling Linda up by the hair to meet her.

Linda's eyes were wide with surprise as her lips touched Leethie's, but she raised her chin and began to lick and suck obediently. Leethie stretched and rolled her hips, as Linda reached up and grabbed at her ass for purchase.

Looking down on Linda, her beautiful forehead, the delicate crease of concentration between her brows, Leethie felt herself going liquid again, heating up. Linda's eyes opened, she looked at Leethie, beseeching.

She pulled her mouth away, and Leethie raised herself backward, so she could see Linda's face. She looked worried, or maybe scared.

"Leethie-" she started, her hands squeezing Leethie's ass. "Leethie, will you touch me while I... while I... I do this for you?"

Leethie studied her but thought of Miranda. Thought of how vulnerable she had looked that last night, the awful roil of shock and pain that flashed across her face. Leethie felt a bolt of shame at the viciousness and stupidity of her rejection. Linda moved under her, her nails clawing.

"Are you going to make me beg like Scott?" She asked. She looked so confused and hurt. Leethie wondered how long she'd been looking at her, lost in thought. "Do you want me to plead?"

"Are you a good girl Linda?" she soothed with motherly warmth, her hands gently petting her beautiful short hair. "What do good girls say?"

"Please Leethie,'' Linda whined. "Please touch me."

"Use your words Bo-Bae," Leethie cooed.

"Leethie, I want you to touch me there."

"Where? Say it, Bo-Bae." Leethie trailed her free hand down Linda's side.

"I... I want you to touch my pussy. Please Leethie. Please, I need you to touch my pussy." begged Linda. "I'll eat your pussy so good, I promise. I'll even..."

"You'll even what, Linda?"

"I'll even," Linda started, turning her eyes away, "I'll do anything, anything you want Leethie. I'll lick your asshole."

Leethie rose up until she was standing on her knees. Linda looked at her, afraid and confused, she started to say something but Leethie stopped her with a gesture. Leethie pushed herself up and turned around, slowly lowering herself so her ass was over Linda's face.

As Linda's lips touched her ass Leethie reached forward and took Linda's crotch in her hand. Her panties were soaked through. The silky wet cloth felt feverish in her hand, she fingered it playfully, feeling Linda opening her legs wide. Linda's hands were on her ass, pulling her cheeks wide as she lowered herself.

"MmmmMMmm," she moaned loudly, as Linda's tongue slid across her asshole.

"You've made a mess of your panties," Leethie scolded, and Linda used her hips to rub herself against her hand. "Pay attention to what you're doing," Leethie warned her, squeezing her cunt. "It's important."

Linda's mouth went instantly soft against Leethie's asshole, her lips pursing to gently suck. "There's my Precious Treasure."

The implosion of her job and everything else in Austin was only the latest disaster in a long line of catastrophes for Leethie. She had known that Linda longed for her to... reciprocate, but she had also thought the younger girl enjoyed her role.

"My Personal Ass Licker," she had teased. She had never told anyone about what Linda did, but she had enjoyed calling Linda her "good PAL" in front of others, making her blush. She hadn't understood how much Linda had resented Leethie's unwillingness to do more than touch her through her clothes. How much her teasing had hurt her.

"It fucked everything," Leethie thought.

Her personal life had been a disaster for as long as she could remember. She burned through guys and had been branded a skank and a slut, first in high school, then at college. She told herself she had a powerful libido, that she couldn't help it if she needed sex more than most girls. With Miranda, it had been different. Miranda was the exception. Leethie could have whatever she wanted, as much as she wanted, and no one knew, no one would ever know. And while fucking guys had always left Leethie feeling used and guilty, and she had had to ignore their fumbling and grunting, Miranda knew exactly how to please Leethie. Miranda had satisfied the part of Leethie she thought couldn't be satisfied, and it was their secret.

But for the first time in their friendship, Leethie had begun to feel responsible for Miranda's pleasure, that she should reciprocate. That had been something she had always left to Miranda to take care of for herself. She thought of the times she had made Miranda masturbate while she watched and mocked her. She thought of the heartbroken look on Linda's face and her cheeks burned with shame, even though she felt sure Miranda had gotten off on it. Miranda liked what they did as much as Leethie did, Leethie was sure of it. She had always pictured Miranda's libido as stunted, a little thing. She'd assumed Miranda got all the pleasure she needed from their arrangement, or she had. But seeing her friend pine for Thom had filled Leethie with an awful doubt.

The washing machine had begun to make a racket, but still had twenty minutes to go. Pulling her sweats on "commando", and wrapping herself in the flannel and work coat, Leethie headed back to the little house. The temperature had dropped while she was in the bathhouse and the air smelled of ozone. The sky was overcast and seemed especially low - just above the treetops.

She took off Marcus' coat and hung it in the foyer, pulling Miranda's dirty panties from the pocket. She held them tight in her fist as she stripped and walked into the sewing room. Her thoughts veered again to what had happened in the shower the first night. She had been drunk and overwrought from the sauna, but there was no escaping how much she still wanted to kiss Miranda in the little clearing the next day, much less how much she had enjoyed watching Miranda grind herself to orgasm against her thigh. She told herself that kissing was just another thing she wanted from Miranda, that it wasn't romantic, and that coming against Leethie had made Miranda happy - that she wanted to make Miranda happy. She was so afraid of losing her.

'There's nothing wrong with that,' she told herself, studying the fragile moth print.

In the days since their walk in the woods, nothing south of little chaste kisses at bedtime had happened between the two of them, however. Leethie had listened to the quiet sounds at night, which she assumed were Thom masturbating. She fantasized a bit, but not like she had been during her trip. She fantasized about ways of punishing Thom, of making him fuck Miranda, and of watching him do it, mocking him while he did. But these ideations didn't turn her on, they just stoked her anger.

"Fucking motherfucker," she thought.

The panties smelled tangy and musky. She breathed deeply, smearing them against her lips. Kneeling naked on her little mat, her fingers moved frantically against her clitoris, frantic to drive the thoughts from her head. She jammed the panties into her mouth, sucking and moaning loudly.

Because it was Friday and he didn't need to wait to drive Miranda home, Thom had already gotten back up the road to the farmhouse when the storm hit.

Leethie had found a dog-eared copy of Roberto Calasso's "The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony" in the little library around the top of the steps to the attic. She had been reading about Leda and the Swan by the fire when big fat flakes began to fall. By the time she saw the bus approaching, it was hard to see much besides its headlights. She had still been holding the book and staring at the pages but realized she hadn't been reading for some time, had just been thinking about the storm.

Thom came in after taking care of the ducks and chickens, and loudly moving loads of firewood onto the "front" porch. He was covered in heavy sticky snow. They laughed as he stomped and shook it off in the crowded little foyer.

"Oh my God, this is crazy!" Leethie told him. "Where did this come from? Was it supposed to be this bad?"

She was babbling. She had been fretting and anxious all alone as the storm had been building. She'd thought of The Storm that had knocked out the power and heat in their old apartment. She was giddy to see him.

"What about Da?" She asked, unable to wait for an answer. "It's only four. Is it like this in town?" Thom was shaking the snow off his work coat and hanging it up. He looked amused. Leethie knew she must sound like a crazy person. "I mean will she be able to make it out? Is she going to get stranded?"

"Um," Thom was pulling off his boots and smiling up at Leethie. "Am I the first person you've spoken to all day?"

"I mean, yes, but.." Leethie was blushing.

"It's Ok Leethie, it's a squall," he told her. "It will blow itself out. The guys were talking about it at school, it's just a squall."

Despite herself, Leethie was relieved, relieved to have him home, and relieved that he wasn't concerned. Everything was going to be fine.

But they never heard from Miranda that night. By the time they realized the phone was dead it was clear that the road was unpassable even with the work truck Marcus kept parked in the farmyard, much less Leethie's little Volvo or the VW. They'd hoped Miranda had realized and found a place to stay in town.

"What's the difference between a squall and a blizzard?" Leethie asked dryly.

"Yeah, I'm not sure I guess," Thom admitted, staring out at the building storm.

Thom had spent time hurriedly moving the firewood in from the porch. He picked out a record from Marcus's collection to listen to while stacking it. As he set the needle down, some sort of concertina began to pump out a simple refrain, it was joined by a hand drum and then clapping. When the vocals started they were sung by men with high childish voices.

"Wow, what is this?!" Leethie had finished the tea and was handing Thom his mug. He took it and warmed his hands on its sides.

"Passion - Sources," he told her, nodding at the record sleeve and taking a greedy sip of the hot tea only to make a face as it burned his mouth. "Fuck - from the movie."

"Slow down there guy," Leethie warned him, but not really caring, too lost in the music. The voices were picking up tempo - sounded almost frantic. She glanced at the sleeve, it had a satellite picture of a river delta. "Passion... the Jim Caviezel movie?"

"No! God, fuck Mel Gibson," Thom shot back. He had settled himself cross-legged and was neatly stacking the piles of wood he'd brought in along the wall near the woodstove. "This is from Scorsese's Last Temptation."

"Oh," Leethie had reared back and must have looked put off because Thom's expression softened.

"Sorry," he said, pulling a face. "Sorry, I didn't mean... Mel Gibson directed the Caviezel movie. Did you, uh, like it?"

"Well clearly if I say 'yes' you're going to kill me and hide my body, so no!" Leethie said, making Thom laugh. She had had to watch both movies for a comparative religion class in high school. Mostly all she remembered about both films together was seeing Willem Dafoe naked - he had been young and beautiful, with his wide mouth and clear bright eyes. She thought of his narrow torso as his round little ass. He had looked like a woman. Caviezel, she remembered, had looked thick and dull-witted in comparison.

"I remember I thought they were both really boring," she told Thom. His mouth dropped open in real outrage, but before he could say anything, she ut him off. "Sorry, I was really young. But you're right I guess, The Passion was super corny and super violent compared to The Last Temptation, but weren't the costumes and sets way better?"

Thom made a face like his brain was going to explode, started to say something, then stopped himself.

"I was really young," she reiterated. "Why do you hate The Passion so much, are you even religious?"

"Uhg, sorry. No, not at all. It's just- Gibson's Passion is like a fucking slasher movie for God botherers," he snorted. He was sitting cross-legged in front of the stove and organizing his haul of wood by size - which Leethie thought was strange since they were just going to burn it right away.

"Scorsese's Last Temptation meanwhile is an incredible film, you should try and see it again," he told her. "It's amazing they let him make it at all. Did you read the book?"

Leethie hadn't and shook her head, wished she could just listen to the music, wondered how she'd gotten into this conversation.

"Kazantzakis, who wrote the book, was a devout orthodox Christian Marxist," Thom explained. "However that works - Last Temptation is all about Christ's struggles as a man, his doubt and fear. His desire to have sex, to love, to make a family. Gibson meanwhile is a right-wing reactionary antisemite. His movie - I don't know what his movie was supposed to be about. I mean, the elevator pitch must have been that the same ghouls who pay to jerk off to chainsaw massacres will pay to jerk off to the scourging of Christ."

'Scourging,' she thought, remembering the grizzly word, her teacher explaining it meant "to thoroughly whip", she wondered now if it was related to excoriate.

As for The Passion, Thom wasn't wrong. Thinking back in it, Leethie remembered feeling sick watching the chunks of flesh caught up in the Romans' whips. The scene of Caviezel being beaten and whipped had gone on so long she'd been afraid she would puke in class. She shuddered at the memory. But she also remembered that the soundtracks of the two films had been similar enough she'd wondered if one had copied the other. She figured Thom would know but decided not to ask.

"Well, this music is wonderful," Leethie told him. She was looking at the muscles of his back as he worked, picturing him hunched over and masturbating furiously. The singing was rising to a frenzied crescendo.

"Yeah, it is!" Thom told her, turning to smile at Leethie. "Peter Gabriel did the soundtrack..."

"This is Peter Gabriel?!" Leethie asked doubtfully. "Wait, why is it called 'Passion' then?"

"No yeah, sorry," Thom was smiling. "I mean Peter Gabriel did the soundtrack, but this - Passion - is all the original music Gabriel sampled for his score."

"Oh, cool..." and it was, or at least it should have been. In the abstract, she could see why he and Miranda got along. He was excited about the trivia and miscellany music the way she was. But somehow Thom made it not cool. Leethie imagined Miranda turning on this record, how much she would have liked telling Leethie all about it, how much fun she would have made it for Leethie.

Leethie had gone back to her book and Thom had puttered with his wood. The storm had begun to pick up towards dark, shaking the little farmhouse, and that's when they lost power.

"Fuck," Leethie said setting her book aside, seeing her reflection in the window. The wood stove was casting the only light. It was pitch black outside.

"Yeah," Thom agreed from the kitchen. "Give me a sec."

Thom lit candles and kept the fire going while Leethie made them a simple meal of salad and leftovers. Splitting a bottle of wine, they ate on the floor in front of the woodstove. After a harrowing trip to the outhouse, it was decided Leethie should just pee in the snow outside the door like Thom was.

"All right, I'm going to head to bed," Thom announced and started to lift himself up off the floor.

"Really?" Leethie asked. She looked out at the storm nervously. "Don't go to sleep yet. Isn't tomorrow like a snow day or something? Stay up a bit longer!"

She was pleading, but the storm was growing in intensity, and while Thom seemed calm, Leethie knew that it was his first winter in the house, so he didn't know any more than she did about what they were up against.

"Should we open another bottle of wine?" he asked.

"Please!"

He took the flashlight and dirty dishes into the kitchen. Pulled out a bottle and brought it to leethie to open while he went into the foyer to get them a couple more candles.

Watching him move around in the strange jumping light Leethie was struck anew by what a handsome man he was. Tall and thin with a narrow chest and hips, he had broad square shoulders and long strong arms. His head was compact and well-shaped, with a strong chin, square jaw, and a long fine-boned nose. His eyes were almost pretty; dark and large for a man, with thick lashes.