Shane and Carmen: The Novelization Ch. 02

Shane knew Carmen was saying something important to her, but she didn't have the words for it. "Yeah," was all she could say, knowing it wasn't the right answer. She fought to find something to say, the right thing to say, dammit, dammit, this wasn't going how she wanted. Fuck!

"Mmmm," Carmen said. She turned to go back to work, adjusting her headset and her clothes, turning once to look at Shane standing there, looking like a sad, whipped puppy.

***

Shane heard the insistent ringing of the doorbell. Fuck. "Jennnnny!" she called out, hoping to get the girl she shared the house with, Jenny Schecter, to answer the door, but there was no response. Shane had only just moved in a few days ago, and didn't know Jenny's schedule yet. Anyway, whoever was at the door was likely to be for Jenny anyway. Hardly anybody knew Shane had moved.

The doorbell buzzed again. A long buzz. A buzz that wasn't going to go away. Where the hell was Jenny? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shane crawled out of bed. She looked down to see if she had enough clothes on to answer the door, not that she really cared very much. Tighty whities, check. T-shirt, check. Her head hurt, a hangover. She felt like shit. She thought maybe she was hungry, but wasn't sure. "Coming!" she yelled at the door, but her voice didn't have any power in it. She navigated to the door, opened it three inches and peered out.

Carmen de la Pica Morales stood on the doorstep. She held two paper cups of coffee, or something that smelled coffee-like, anyway, and a small bag that looked like it might contain pastries and which had the name of a chain donut shop on it. She was wearing a pretty sun dress, white with large flowers all over it. She was smiling. She had a friendly, open, happy look. She smelled good, too. She looked good enough to eat. Shane's stomach growled.

"Good morning, sunshine," Carmen said. "You look like shit."

Shane backed away, pulling the door open as Carmen walked in. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten."

"Fuck," Shane said.

"Hard night? I'll tell you, a lap dance sure takes the stuffing out of you." Carmen marched past her, going through the house to the dining area. She set the coffees and the bag down and turned to look at Shane.

"What day is it?" Shane asked, walking slowly to the table.

"Sunday. It's Sunday, sunshine. A beautiful, warm, glorious, wonderful Sunday morning in beautiful, warm, glorious, wonderful Southern California."

Shane couldn't help crack a smile, but she had to protest anyway. "Carmen, please don't do this."

"Do what, sunshine?"

"Be so fucking--"

"Cheerful?"

"Yes."

"Friendly?"

"Yes."

"Thoughtful?" she said, handing Shane one of the coffees.

"Yes."

"Courteous?"

"Carmen--"

"Perky?"

"Fuck you, Carmen," Shane said, but said it laughing.

"Hung over, huh?

"Yeah."

"How was the lap dance?"

"Okay, I guess. Tina seemed to have a good time."

"Tina's your friend?"

"Yes."

"Did you get a lap dance, too?

"No."

"Good answer. Next question: Did you fuck anybody last night?"

"No."

"You're two for two. Did anybody fuck you?"

"No. Nobody fucked me, and I didn't fuck anybody. Can we cut this out now?"

"Sit down and drink your coffee," Carmen said, her tone softening as she sat down, too.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I got your address from the HR department at the studio. They said you were moving. Do you live alone here?"

"No, I have a roommate. A housemate. Jenny. I have no idea where she is. I guess she's out somewhere. Maybe at The Planet."

"Are you lovers?"

Shane sat up, indignant. "No, we're not lovers. I don't fuck my roommates. We just share the house. And she's my friend."

"I have to ask these questions, Shane, because quite frankly, you are just about the most inarticulate, speechless human being I've ever met. You fuck wonderfully, by the way, but I just thought I'd mention the communication thing in case you were unaware of it. But you've done very well so far, so you may open the bag."

"What's in it?"

"Donuts. A girl's got to keep up her strength."

"Can I have one?"

"That's why I brought them," Carmen said. She took one herself and bit into it. She looked at Shane while she chewed.

Shane had her eyes closed, sipping the coffee, feeling herself slowly rise to human status. "I needed this. Thanks," she said.

"You're welcome," Carmen said. "I'm glad to see you are capable of human intercourse. By intercourse I mean talking, not delicious lesbian sex."

Shane grunted and ate her donut. When she was done she looked in the bag and saw there were two more. She gave one to Carmen and began to eat the other one.

"Why aren't you and Jenny lovers? Is she fat and ugly?"

"No. She's not fat and ugly at all. She's about your age. Cute. Like you, but in a different way. Black hair, like you. Blue eyes, like me. Cute, tight little bod."

"Is she a lesbian?"

"That's a good question. She seems to be, now. She didn't used to be. When she moved in here last year she had a boyfriend she later married. But yes, she's a lesbian now, I think."

"Were you the one who made her a lesbian? You turn her out?"

"Me? Fuck, no. I had nothing to do with it. Really. I swear. She got seduced by ... well, never mind. It wasn't me."

"Sounds complicated. So if she's now a lesbian, why aren't you fucking her?"

"I told you. She's my friend," Shane said, again.

"You don't fuck any of your friends?" Carmen asked.

Shane had no answer for that. Sometimes she did fuck her friends. It usually led to disasters, and Shane knew from experience it was usually a rotten idea. She had pretty much sworn off fucking friends. But there was always history to deal with, and Shane's history was problematic. Oh, yes. It was damn sure problematic.

"Why are you doing this?" Shane asked.

"Why? Well, I guess that's another good question. I've spent the last week asking myself that very question. It's because I like you. Which I know sounds stupid, because the word 'like' doesn't cover it. I'm attracted to you. I want to sleep with you. I want to make love to you. I cried myself to sleep a few nights ago over you, when you were such a rude, obnoxious asshole sucking tongue with that girl. You hurt my feelings. You ... well. I didn't know what the fuck was going on, what kind of mind games you were playing. I don't like mind games, and you seemed to be fucking me over, like first you wanted me, and then next thing you had some skank hanging all over you. The thing is, you don't seem at all like the mind-fucking, mind-games type. So can you tell me what that was all about the other night? 'Cause I really want to know. I never had anything like that happen before. So tell me, Shane, what was all that about?"

Shane felt like shit. "Carmen, I apologized. I said I was sorry. Sometimes ... sometimes I do stupid shit. That was one of those times."

"I kind of thought you liked me. That day in the sound booth ... ."

"I do like you," Shane said.

"Well, then?" Carmen asked.

Shane looked at her, spread her hands out, unable to find the words.

"Is that the problem? Is liking me a problem?"

Once again Shane was unable to put the words together. She just looked at Carmen.

"That's it, isn't it," Carmen whispered. "You felt something for me. Something different from what you feel when you're fucking some skanky girl. I knew it. I just knew it."

Shane couldn't say anything.

"Okay, I'm beginning to understand you a little better," Carmen said. She ate her donut and drank her coffee. Shane did the same. Shane had no idea what was going to happen next. She had no idea what to say. She felt funny in her chest, felt a thickening pressure, looked at Carmen sitting at the table and wanted her to never leave. She wanted this moment to last forever.

"What are you thinking?" Carmen asked.

"How beautiful you are," Shane blurted, without thinking.

It caught Carmen off guard. She frowned. "Goddammit, hurry up and finish your coffee," she said.

"Why?"

"Because you stink. You're all smelly and stinky from last night. You smell like stale beer and cigarette smoke, and you need a shower."

"I know," Shane said. "I'll go take one now. Will you be here when I get back?"

"No," Carmen said, standing up and taking Shane by the hand. "I'm coming with you."

***

Carmen led her by the hand down the hall to the bathroom. She pushed Shane in ahead of her. As Shane stood facing the tub, Carmen stood behind her, reached and pulled Shane's T-shirt over her head. Then she knelt quickly and pulled Shane's jockeys down to her ankles, made her step out of them, and threw them in a corner. "Get in," she said, pushing Shane past the shower curtain and into the tub. Shane turned the water on and adjusted the temperature. Then she turned around and through the transparent curtain saw Carmen pulling the sun dress over her head and carefully hanging it on a hook behind the door. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, and then dropped her bright red Hanes cotton underpants to the floor. She picked them up and put the bra and tighty scarlets on a shelf in the linen closet, and climbed into the tub beside Shane. Shane was standing under the shower head, letting the water cover her and wet her down. It was the first time Carmen saw Shane's body, and the first moment she saw Shane's chest.

"Oh, wow," Carmen sighed, putting her hands on Shane's breasts, cupping them and feeling the stiffening nipples getting harder and harder. Shane had small, firm breasts tipped by the most beautiful nipples and aureoles Carmen had ever seen. They sat high with a slight upward thrust, the aureoles a little smaller than quarters, and centered in them were perfect nubs the size of pencil erases. They were a nice light mocha color like powdered hot chocolate mix. They took Carmen's breath away as she held them, cupped them. "Oh, my," she said, not knowing she had spoken, as she put her head down and kissed one, taking it in her mouth as water ran down over it and over Carmen's face. Shane leaned back against the wall as Carmen followed under the shower spray, licking Shane's right breast and then her left, licking and sucking, gently biting, loving the nipples and sucking them one at a time, her hand cupping the unkissed tit and flicking its nipple, caressing it gently while her mouth made love to the other one. Shane closed her eyes as water flowed down upon her, and felt Carmen's sweet mouth work her chest.

In fact, it could be said that Shane's nipples were legendary in Southern California. Shane's friends, Tina, Dana, Alice and Marina, once had a conversation about Shane and her fine nips.

"I don't get it," Dana asked one day during conversation at The Planet, the coffee bar and restaurant where the group hung out. "I mean, what does Shane have that I don't have?"

"It has to do with her attitude," Tina said, because everyone knew Shane had some magnetic appeal to women who seemed to come out of the woodwork and go after Shane. It was uncanny, supernatural.

"I've got attitude!" said Dana, who was a top-class professional tennis player currently ranked number 12 in the world.

"It's because she's so withholding," said Marina, who owned The Planet. Marina was an expert in withholding, what with her sultry good looks and seductive but cold ice queen manner. She was the one who had seduced Jenny, introducing her to smoldering, steamy, clandestine, quasi-adulterous lesbian sex.

"No, it's because she's so confident," Tina said, who was confident herself.

"No, it's because she's so stupid, and stupid people are too dumb to be insecure," Dana said, meanly. At the time Dana was new to the group, and didn't know Shane very well. Like many people, she mistook Shane's inability with words and slowness to react as signs of lack of intelligence.

Alice was shocked. "Dana! She's your friend!" Alice was a freelance journalist and along with Jenny was Shane's best friend. Alice had known Shane the longest, too. Like Tina, Alice considered herself to be bisexual, and both had had significant sexual relationships with men. So did Jenny, but Jenny didn't consider herself bisexual; she just didn't know what the fuck she was.

"It's confidence, okay?" Tina said. "I'm telling you, it's because of her nipples."

"What do you mean, it's because of her nipples?" Dana asked.

"She has the best nipples in town and she knows it," Tina said.

"Oh, my God." Alice said, suddenly realizing something. "You're so right. She has nipple confidence!"

"Yeah, they're small and they're perfectly formed," Tina said. They'd all seen Shane's nipples, because Tina and her partner Bette had a swimming pool behind their house, and the women had sometimes skinny-dipped at night.

"I wonder if I could sell a story on L.A.'s best nipples," Alice asked out loud but mostly to herself.

Despite her vast sexual history, Shane had never had an orgasm just from breast play, but she'd heard of such a thing and had actually given such cums two or three times to other women. She wondered if Carmen was capable of giving her one that way. Carmen was really skilled. Really skilled.

After a few minutes of loving Shane's boobs under the shower cascade, Carmen pulled away.

"Where's your shampoo?" she asked. Shane opened her eyes, and reached for the bottle of shampoo kept in an alcove in the tub wall. Carmen poured a dollop into her hand and said, "Kneel down. Hold onto my hips." Shane knelt in the tub facing Carmen, felt Carmen's hands begin to lather her head, washing her hair gently. Shane had never been treated quite this well by any other woman before. She'd showered with girls often enough, usually after fucking, not before, and she'd fooled around and fucked in the shower. But she couldn't ever remember anyone lovingly washing her hair. As a hairdresser, it was almost always Shane doing the washing, and doing it in a professional, detached manner, in a beauty salon.

Shane closed her eyes so shampoo wouldn't run into them, but then she brushed the suds away from her face so she could stare at Carmen's lunch box directly in front of her. Shane had munched it the other day, but hadn't paid a lot of attention, visually speaking. Now she had both time and opportunity to study it at her leisure. Carmen had a classic oyster-type pussy, the inner lips modestly frilled about three-quarters of the way down. It was noticeably several shades darker than Carmen's overall caramel skin color, as was the oval surrounding it, a quite common skin coloration phenomenon, in Shane's considerable experience. Outside of gynecologists, obstetricians, morgue attendants and porn industry film editors, Shane had seen just about as many types, colors and sizes of pussy as anyone in California. That being said, this was still something new in Shane's experience: studying a lovely pussy from several inches away, while her hair was being shampooed.

Carmen massaged Shane's scalp, washing it gently and lovingly, rocking Shane's head slightly, Shane squinting to watch the sight in front of her, Carmen's wet satin belly, her navel, her neatly trimmed black triangle of hair V-framed by the two gardens of tattoo blossoms, Carmen's miniature flower boxes, then just the hint of clit hood and tucked-away pussy lips. And then Shane had to clamp her eyes shut as Carmen worked the suds and rocked Shane's head. Shane became aware of Carmen's voice, singing softly, "There we go, now our hair is getting washed, now our hair is getting washed, now our hair is getting washed," some sort of child's sing-song crooning. Shane leaned forward, pushed her sudsy head against Carmen's belly, nuzzled her face in to kiss the muffy little hair pie.

Carmen took the shower wand off its hook and proceeded to rinse Shane's hair. "There, all done," Carmen said, hanging the wand back up. "Now stand up. Plant your ass against the wall. Spread 'em." Shane the top, being bottomed. Little did she know.

Shane did as she was ordered, and stood patiently, legs apart, as Carmen squirted some soap from a dispenser into her hand and proceeded to wash Shane's body, taking each arm and washing it slowly and lovingly, washing Shane's shoulders, chest, armpits, delectable nipples, tummy. Carmen bent down and washed Shane's legs, working her way up to Shane's crotch but stopping just short of ground zero. Then she put a palm full of suds on Shane's mons, lathering the short, trimmed, soft pussy hair landing strip, foaming the runway where no airplane ever crashed, crooning, "Now we wash our wammy pie, now we wash our wammy pie, now we wash our wovewy twat." Shane started laughing at how Carmen sang the word "lamb," wammy, but Carmen ignored it. She slowly washed and shucked Shane's oyster, massaging the outer lips and rubbing them from side to side like the loose skin on the back of a puppy's neck. Shane's laughter turned to moans. Then Shane felt a soapy finger slowly being inserted into her pussy, and she closed her eyes. Soon there were two soapy fingers. "Aren't we a widdle wamb, aren't we a widdle wamb," Carmen sang, "and now we wash our cwit." Carmen forked two fingers of the hand that wasn't fucking Shane's pussy over Shane's clit, slowly washing and massaging the clit hood, Shane giggling and laughing at the song.

"Oh, you bitch," Shane said, wondering if she could actually come while laughing.

"Shhhhh," Carmen hissed, keeping a straight face, "Pwease! No talking while we're washing our cwitowis."

Shane guffawed, her belly shaking.

"Hand me the shower wand," Carmen said. Shane did. Carmen turned it on Shane's pussy, winsing her bewwy, wegs, twat, cwitowis. "We need to make you sparkwey cwean and minty fwesh. Now, turn awound."

Shane turned around, braced her arms against the wall. Carmen pulled one of Shane's butt cheeks to the side, giving her access to spray the stream of water from the wand up and down Shane's crack. "Here, hang the wand back up." Carmen took the soap dispenser and poured out another puddle into her hand. She proceeded to wash Shane's back from the nape of her neck to the backs of her heels, leaving her butt and butt crack for last. "Okay, spwead 'em, cowgirl," Carmen ordered. Shane, always slow to react, was too slow to react this time, too, and got a smart slap on her ass. "Spwead 'em, I said, you wiwy wascal," Carmen said. Shane groaned, put her hands on her butt cheeks, and pulled them apart, her face turned to the side and hugging the wall. Carmen's hand soaped up and down Shane's upper thighs, over her bottom, up and down her slice.

"I wonder if that wiwy wabbit is awound here somewhere," Carmen said. "Oh, wook! A wabbit hole!" Gently she placed the pad of one soapy fingertip on Shane's anal ring, circling it slowly and lubricating it with soap like the rim of a crystal goblet she wanted to make sing. "Shane? Are you hiding that wiwy wabbit in here?"

Shane, climbing to whole new stratospheres of speechlessness, closed her eyes and moaned.

The finger slowly circled, gently pushed as the ring softened and gave way. Carmen slowly pushed her soapy index finger in, crooning, "Come out, come out, you wittle wascal."

"Oh, fuck!" Shane whispered.

Carmen added a second finger, slowly and gently finger-fucking Shane's tender bottom with lots of soap suds. Then she reached around with her other hand and began caressing Shane's clit. Shane made a sound that came out, "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." She closed her eyes, hugged the wall, legs trembling, and felt it coming, the Big O, coming, coming, whups, arriving on Track Nine, Shane's thighs quivering, Shane thrusting against the shower wall, her nipples trying to put dents in the tile, dribbles and squirts of pussy juice running down her legs as she rocked through a shuddering cum. In the annals of anal, and despite the six- or seven- or nine hundred women Shane had had sex with, she'd never before been Elmer Fudded.