Secret Sins Ch. 03

"Yes, I see the logic, but you have to realize that those people aren't living in North Central because they want to. They didn't move there because they enjoy social challenges. They're there because they can't afford better. They're banding together and trying to clean the streets up, because they can't afford better. How do you really think they'll see you when you start asking for their help, for their time or old items that they no longer have any use for and could maybe otherwise sell so they could pay their hydro bill?"

"Well, that's what I thought," I admitted, "but Major Hurdle says-"

"Major Hurdle needs to get his head out of his ass. The Salvation Army is a large organization and, no matter what they say about being non-profit, they have money and people know it. I know you want to help, and that's great, but for you to run around the hood, asking for what amounts to handouts would look... very bad. My advice? Don't do it."

We'd come around the corner of the building and into a larger parking lot that fronted a small shopping mall, but I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings just then. I was too busy worrying about defying the Major in favour of what my gut told me was some very sound advice from Donna who, having grown up in North Central, ought to know what she was talking about.

"I mean, Hurdle is either living in a different reality, or he's setting you up to fail," she went on. "Three quarters of North Central is populated by aboriginals and, right now, they're all about this 'truth and reconciliation' thing that's been all over the news. Have you heard about it?"

I shook my head and she explained while searching for a spot for her car.

"Basically, since the late eighteen hundreds, on up until the mid-nineteen-nineties, the government forcibly took Indian kids from their parents and sent them off to these Christian residential schools in an effort to- and I quote- 'take the Indian out of them'. They were trying to assimilate them into our culture so that they could get them off the government dime, That's bad enough, but they did it with such little regard. Their parents had to actually camp outside the gates of these schools, waiting for the chance to visit with their own children. Meanwhile, inside, these poor kids were undergoing a lot of unpleasant experiences in this ongoing effort to wipe out their culture, experiences that some of them didn't even survive."

"I had no idea," I responded, shocked that our government would do such things.

"A lot of white people didn't. It's not like it was a big secret or anything, but aboriginals are sort of their own society in this country, and it's a society that a lot of white people perceive as a welfare nation within our own. We try to ignore them and their problems as an expensive, inconvenient reality. In other words, white people didn't want to know. We weren't paying attention because it wasn't our problem. Anyway, just try to imagine how you're going to look, a white representative of a religion that's partially responsible for the cultural atrocities inflicted on these people as children, running around the hood in that uniform, looking for donations and free labour."

With my hand covering my face, I said to my palm, "I had no idea."

"Well, apparently, neither does your Major Hurdle. Either that, or he can't add insult to injury and come up with insensitive."

"But, what am I supposed to do? I have to do what he tells me."

"No you don't," she opposed while expertly reversing her car into a space. "Just tell him what he wants to hear."

"I can't do that!"

"Why can't you?"

"You don't know him, you didn't hear the way he was talking yesterday! He'll expect results, and he'll expect them his way!"

"Don't worry about it. If he's that oblivious to the cultural sensitivities involved, and if you play him right, he'll believe anything you tell him as long as it's what he wants to hear and it looks good on the outside."

"You're telling me that I should lie to him?"

Putting the car in park, she paused, looking at me with a smirk before saying, "You like him. Don't you?"

"I respect him." I corrected.

"Yes, but you like him too. You're attracted to him and you like the way he treats you."

"I already admitted that," I said with a note of guilt laden misery as I thought of his wife, Alessa. "But it's more than that. I know this sounds stupid, considering how he's actually blackmailing me, but he has this confidence in me that... He's my first direct Commanding Officer, and he has all this faith in me and my abilities. Lying to him makes me feel like I'm letting him down, like I'm letting myself down. Besides that, I have my parents' reputation in the ranks to overcome, and I don't see how lying to my superior will help me to do that."

"Your parents' reputation?"

"It's a long story," I said. "In a nutshell, they're dissenters and that's been working against me since I started at CFOT."

"Hm. I haven't met your parents, but I already like them. As for the Major, he's not thinking realistically. That, or he's setting you up for failure," she judged, once again echoing what my father had said. "Either way, it puts you in an impossible situation where you're not going to succeed unless you change the parameters of that situation."

Shaking my head, I bandied, "But he's right. Why would people come together there if they didn't feel it was theirs? If they didn't cooperate in helping to put it together?"

"Why would they anyway?"

I only looked at her, not sure of what she meant by this until she clarified.

"What will be offered to them there? Even if they do help you paint the place, mow the lawn, plant flowers or whatever, why would they come back? What's to entice them through the front door of what you want them to see as a community place of gathering?"

"Well, I thought that we'd set up an altar and hold services."

"If you make that the focal point, don't expect them to show. Some of them are Christian, but some are more culturally traditional and, what with the whole truth and reconciliation thing, you'll have to do better, not to mention the non-native segment of North Central population, among which you'll find Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs. You'll have to give them some personal incentive besides your religion for making that building what the Major wants it to be."

" ... You're right. Yes, you're absolutely right. But, what kind of incentive could I offer?"

"We," Donna corrected with a supportive smile. "What incentives will we offer, sweetie pie? And don't worry about that. For now, you just worry about getting out there, like the major says, and selling yourself. God knows, I'd buy."

Looking me up and down, she gave me a sleazy grin, making me want to giggle at her double meaning. The fact that I'd actually had sex with her, a woman and an exceptionally beautiful one at that, renewed itself upon my senses, amplifying my excited and approving reaction. More than that, I felt reassured and glad that I had Donna in my corner as well as in my bed.

The mall was called the 'Value Mall'. It featured a Value Village outlet, but also a Dollarama, a Sears Outlet store, a used furniture store and a used book store. I was able to get a lot of things I needed for my living space and had a great time with Donna, the first real friend I'd had in my adult life.

The more I got to know her, the more comfortable I became around her, finding that we had a lot of similarities. More than friends, I came to feel like she was some long lost older sister who was there to look out for me.

At one point, however, while at the checkout register in Value Village, we were asking about a clock radio that had no price sticker on it. The cashier, a woman who wore a hijab and was obviously from somewhere in the Middle East, called a dark skinned man whom I'd assumed to be the manager to her station. They proceeded to have a discussion in what I think was some sort of Arabic, both of them glancing at Donna and me from time to time until my alluring assistant put a stop to it.

"Excuse me!" she practically barked, her tone immediately quieting them both as they looked at her. "That's very rude, what you're doing!"

They didn't seem to get it and, truth be told, neither did I. That was alright because Donna was prepared to explain in no uncertain terms.

"In this country, speaking in a language that others present can't understand, especially when it concerns them, is considered rude! I don't know what it's like wherever you come from, but you don't do that here! Get it!?"

People were looking and I wanted to sink through the floor, expecting the manager called for the strolling security guard to remove us from the building or something. But they both nodded, wide eyed and standing very much corrected as they assured her in English that they did indeed get it.

"Don't do it again!" she harshly ordered, adding, "Ever! And we're not paying for that fucking clock radio!"

I was as flabbergasted as they were, especially when the manager gushed, "No, of course not, that is a gift to you from us, ma'am, and we will never use our language in front of Canadians again. Ever."

"Well, I should hope not!"

My face was flushed, hot with embarrassment as we left the store. I couldn't believe it, could only stare at beautiful Donna who, by then, was again smiling as though it had never happened.

"What was that?" I hissed when I finally found the nerve.

"What?"

"Back there, with the clock radio. Donna! People get charged for saying stuff like that! They call it hate speech!""

Her mouth twisted in disgust as she explained in a normal tone, "Look, I don't mind them coming to our country, but they could at least act like they're grateful. Instead, it's like they resent us for being here, like we're the outsiders. It's not all of them, but the ones who do should give their head a fucking shake. Or go the hell back to wherever they came from."

"But you can't be saying stuff like that! At least not in public!"

"Oh, that's right," she said. "I keep forgetting that being politically correct has trumped the right to free speech in this country. Heaven forbid anyone speak their mind and tell it like it is! Look, I'm not racist; I have nothing against immigrants, but if they're gonna be here, they need to respect our values and culture like they keep demanding that we respect theirs."

I let it go at that, mostly just so she'd stop talking. Donna, apparently, had no filter on her tongue, and I made note to avoid any socially sensitive topics of discussion in public from then on.

After a trip to Walmart, we returned to Rae Street to lug all my purchases into the house and up the stairs. She helped me set things up, her earlier vehemence in the Value Mall gone like it had never happened as she wiped everything from Value Village down with Clorox. At one point, in my bedroom, I was caught up in the sight of her tush in that snug fitting dress, shaking ever so slightly as she worked away. She turned around and caught me staring, fixing me with a knowing smile, those dazzling, golden hazel eyes practically glittering from a few feet away as I blushed, still not quite accustomed to our 'friends and more' status.

"You're quite attracted to me," she needlessly stated.

"Oh, yes," I assured in a quiet voice, ogling her legs and cleavage. I'd waited long enough. I wanted her.

"That's only natural," she said.

The way I write her words may make it seem like a boast on her part, but her tone suggested something different. However she meant it, it was again clear that she was attracted to me as well, her tongue licking her lips as her eyes travelled down my body giving evidence to this.

"You know what I liked?" she asked.

"What?"

"Earlier today in my car, when I was making you horny and you were rubbing your cunt through your pants."

I was taken a little aback by her crude reference to my pussy, but found it only turned me on all the more as I teased, "Oh, you like it when I act like that?"

"Mm-hmm," she affirmed. "Such a prim and proper little Christian girl on the outside... so fucking horny and perverted on the inside... all that naughty stuff just waiting to get out..."

As though it had a mind of its own, my hand found its way there again, grabbing and squeezing my crotch as she watched with an approving smile.

"Oh Donna..." I whispered, twitching as my clitoris began erecting itself.

In reply, she continued to watch me while her hand took the hem of her dress to slowly raise it, uncovering her thighs, then her low cut, black lace panties. I twitched again, licking my own lips now as I fumbled at the button on my dress pants, releasing it and then lowering the zipper so I could stick my hand down inside.

"Oh, Donna!" I whined, unable to hold back from pressing at my clitoris through my pink silk panties with the sexy, white lace frill at the waistband.

It was true. I was so horny, so perverted and I only wanted to let it out. Rubbing a little harder, I could hear the gentle, wet smacking of my pussy as it seeped its essence, watching Donna place her hand over the dipped front panel of her panties to press and rub. She twitched, eyelids fluttering as she watched me pleasure myself.

That's it, sweetie pie," she breathed. "Rub that hot little cunt for me."

"Yea-ah," I moaned.

"Rub it till you cum in your fuckin' panties."

"Yeah?" I whined, making circles around my clit with my index and middle finger as my pants slowly fell to the floor.

"Show m-me what a dirty girl you are, Lieutenant..."

"Uhh!" I cried as I slipped my fingers right inside my panties, staring as hers disappeared through the leg hole of her black lace undergarment. "Oh, Donna, I'm so wet!"

"I know, baby... I... Uhh-hhh!"

I was rubbing harder, faster, becoming more and more excited as I watched her do the same, her boobs jiggling as mine were as we twitched and jerked to our fingers. Standing there, doing this, I experienced an acute awareness of the physically sensational difference from masturbating in private to doing it with someone else. In a sense, it was almost dirtier than having actual sex with her, and I was very much enjoying that.

And then came the moment where I couldn't hold back any longer. With my other hand, I pushed my pants further down to my knees, then tugged my panties down so that they rolled to a crooked, tangled position almost halfway down my thighs. Then, placing that hand just above my pubic bush, I pulled up, stretching the skin at my clitoris to make it even more sensitive as I spread my thighs, leaning forward to flick it as fast as I could, watching Donna as she languidly played with her pussy.

"Oh, Donna! ... Oh, D-Donna! ... Oooh! Duh-! Oh my God, Donnaaa!"

I was so close, but it felt so good and I was so turned on by the situation that I forced myself to slow down, dragging out that mind blowing moment just before orgasm as she pulled her panties down, enraptured by my show of perverted carnality.

"Uhhhhhhh! Uhhhhhhhh! Uhhhhh-hhhhhh!" I desperately wailed, plunging my middle finger up inside my canal, fucking my tight hole while pressing my clit with my palm.

With a swift motion, Donna jerked her panties down from her perfect hips, letting them fall to the floor so she could step out of them and take a seat on my bed. Propping herself with one hand behind her, she raised a heel to the edge of the mattress, spreading her legs and proceeding to alternate between fingering her shiny, wet pussy and flicking her tall, erected clitoris. Her creamy juice was so thick it stuck to her fingers, creating thick, mucusy strings between them and her sex as mine finally exploded.

I wailed nonsensically, staggering and madly flicking my clit until I thought my head would explode in the best orgasm of my life, save perhaps for the one she'd given me the afternoon before. And before it was even over, before I could even think straight, I was staggering to the bed, going to my knees in front of her as she obligingly removed her fingers from her sex so I could go down on her.

"Mmmm! Mmm-mmmpp! U-ullmmm! Nguuulm!"

I loved it. Not just the taste, not just the feel of her hot, sticky, stringy essence all over my lower face, but the very act of doing it. I loved the feel of her hand at the back of my head, gentle, yet firm as she used my face as a sex toy. And I was maniacal, devouring her, licking and sucking until she came nice and hard, squirting and gushing right into my face, soaking my hair and the top of my blouse as she cried my name out again and again.

Even when she tried to close her thighs, to stop me before I could blow her mind, I grabbed them, forcing them open as I kept going until she had to pull my face away by the hair at the back of my head.

"Tara, fuck!"

My response was to throw myself on top of her, knocking her flat and tearing the front of her dress open. I grinned wickedly as her bra-bound boobs shook like Jello before me, grabbing them up and massaging them before roughly jerking the red lace underwire restraint halfway down, snapping one of its straps.

Donna only moaned, allowing this despite the cost of a new bra as I finished tearing it from her delectable body so I could kiss and lick her boobs unfettered. I maddeningly teased her and myself like this before I finally started licking her nipples, enjoying the feel of her flinching, squirming reaction beneath me before I started sucking on them.

I enjoyed this for a few minutes until I wanted her pussy back and, at that point, I wasn't willing to take no for an answer. Happily, she was now willing to let me at her creamy pussy once again, wordlessly helping me to rearrange her position on the bed so I could straddle her face with my thighs and go down on her.

It was as though something had come over me. A part of me, the part that wanted nothing more in life than to make Major before age thirty, seemed to stand back in the distance of my mind, watching as this other part of me went completely wild on Donna, a ravenous animal that wouldn't be put off. Holding her thighs open, I licked and sucked her beautiful, dark, wonderfully seeping pussy again, moaning and whimpering, jerking when her tongue found my outer labia.

It was the first sixty-nine of my life and it was so exciting, so delightfully, forbiddingly wrong and good. Her hands caressed my thighs and tushie, lightly massaging my lower back to send tingly shivers up and down my body as she took her time finding my hard clit. By the time she did, I was howling in pleasure, the world beyond her inner thighs a distant, abstract memory as we pleasured one another without inhibition. It was a sort of defining moment in my life, a point of understanding that separated who I'd been from who I would be, no matter that other part of myself, that Lieutenant Watts of the Salvation Army who stood watching helplessly from the sidelines.

We came at the same time, yelping, squealing and moaning like two sluts in a seventies orgy video. We finished our jerking and convulsing, kissing one another's spent pussies, carefully licking up any creamy ejaculate we didn't swallow before I managed to turn around, laying full length over her body. We made out with passion then, expressing a deeper appreciation for one another, smearing each other all over our faces as we again lost ourselves in the other.

There was a point where our eyes met and I felt myself literally swoon, her caressing hands on my back and shoulders as the green and gold jewels in her eyes sparkled just for me. And there was something there, a love for me that went beyond the love she'd hinted at the day before. In some way that I couldn't define or put to words, Donna and I were becoming more and more like family.