Sylvia, Neil and Bobbie, Too

They both laughed and hugged.

"Okay, then." Bobbie kissed her friend's mouth once more. "Lover." Another kiss. "And a dear friend." Several more kisses, they were so hungry for each other. "How's that?"

Bobbie buried her face in Sylvia's neck, inhaling the scent of her skin.

"That's perfect, because that's the way I feel, too."

Bobbie pulled back and looked into Sylvia's eyes once again.

"Okay, then. Now I can tell you my secret."

"I feel like I'm at a slumber party." In the aftermath of their lovemaking, Sylvia couldn't help but smile and giggle at the least provocation.

"We didn't call them slumber parties back in my day. We were still in the Depression, but there were occasional sleepovers. My Dad was lucky he had a steady job, so things weren't too horrible. We had the neighbor kids come over, sometimes just to feed them, but..." Bobbie's eyes gleamed. "Things didn't really happen until later. I fooled around, you know, but I didn't go all the way until I was in college."

"Please tell me more." Sylvia leaned on an elbow, gazing down at her lover, intrigued. Their breasts gently touched.

"I spent a semester at community college before I dropped out to get married." Bobbie rested her head on a pillow as Sylvia stroked her cheek and hair, lost in watching her lips form words. "I was miles from home and shared a dorm room with another girl, one who turned out to be just as shy as I was back then."

Sylvia already knew where this was going. "Yes?"

"Well, of course, we were together in that little room a lot. Neither one of us hardly had any money, so we spent a lot of time studying, talking, playing gin rummy and listening to the cheap little radio her parents gave her as a high school graduation gift."

"Go on."

"It was a few years before the war, and we tried going to any event or gathering we could. Anything that didn't cost money. But again, we were away from home and our friends and family, and it wasn't easy mingling with a bunch of strangers.

"You formed a bond."

Bobbie shot Sylvia a glance, raising an eyebrow, smirking. "You could say that, yes."

Sylvia giggled again. "Do you mean?"

"Oh, my god," Bobbie looked up at the ceiling, again transporting herself back in time. "We started sleeping in the same bed. No sex, mind you. We just needed the warmth and closeness of another human being. We were so alone in this strange, new world."

"One thing led to another?"

"Yep." Bobbie reached up to caress Sylvia's face, as if to anchor her in the present. "One night, the first chill of late autumn had frosted everything, and the furnace in our room was never worth a damn. Short of lighting a fire on the floor, we pulled an extra blanket on top of us and began rubbing each other."

"Oh, my goodness." This time, Sylvia stifled her giggle.

"Well, before long, we were kissing, then fingering each other, sucking tits, humping together. It didn't take much for our teenaged desire to blossom."

"Goddamn," Sylvia whispered, kissing her lover's palm. Bobbie's story was making her hot again.

"From there on, we had no trouble staying warm, even when the snow started to fall outside our window and ice formed on the windowpane."

"Oh, that sounds so nice, honey."

"It was, very much so. We'd turn up her radio for background noise in the hope it would drown out our lovemaking. The Andrews Sisters managed to cover up the squeaking of bedsprings very well, and Jack Benny escorted us into dreamland."

"Was that where you learned how to pleasure another woman?"

Bobbie snorted, looking up at her new lover. "Eating pussy, you mean? In part, yes. It certainly gave me a taste for it, no pun intended. The rest of it now is just mimicking what my husband did."

"And you do it so very well, my love."

Sylvia kissed her lover yet again. She never fathomed, in all the years of working with Bobbie, what lie behind the woman she shared a busy office with every weekday from nine to five. The day's passion had revealed a woman she never expected. Bobbie had opened up and shared some of her secrets, and Sylvia was forever glad.

She placed another of what would be a thousand kisses on her new lover's face. Bobbie took every one, and returned even more.

"I suspect there was an end to it, eventually." Sylvia's voice conveyed sadness.

Bobbie turned to face the ceiling, her eyes vacant as she searched for words. Finally, she spoke.

"It was really difficult for me when I met Ronald at that party. As involved as I was with Sarah by then..."

"What a lovely name, Sarah."

"Yes, Sarah Mae Shetler with the light brown hair she kept bobbed, deep, intelligent eyes I could gaze into for hours, and a plump bottom that was so nice to squeeze."

"A juicy peach."

"Oh, very much so. Anyway, my Ronnie was always so handsome, and such a gentleman. He didn't even make a pass at me until our third date. I fought him off a little, but realized how much I wanted a man's cock inside me. He even wore a rubber!"

"That must've hurt Sarah, eh?"

"It wasn't easy for either one of us. One moment, I'm in college, making good grades and wrecking the bed with Sarah almost every night, and the next moment, I'm dropping out of college and getting married to Ronald."

"What did Sarah do?"

Sylvia noticed a tear streaking down Bobbie's reddened cheek.

"I remember that day in December. I had taken most of my things out of that dingy, little dorm room, but made one more trip to make sure nothing was left behind."

Bobbie sniffed as Sylvia squeezed her arm.

"You don't have to tell me, lover."

"No, I want to, honey." Bobbie wiped away the tear. "Sarah wasn't there, but left a note. She had gone home for a week, wished me luck, and said goodbye, all in a very sanitary way."

"Oh, that must've hurt."

"Damn right it did, but I deserved it in spades."

Another tear welled in Bobbie's eyes.

"As intense as our relationship was, I never realized how much in love she was with me. I mean, I saw her as a very close friend, and we were doing what we needed to do to get through it all, being companions...you know. Maybe I convinced myself it was just a teenaged crush, puppy love, and it would pass. I guess I loved her in a slightly different way."

"Yes...yes."

"She wrote me a long letter during the Christmas break. It was cryptic enough. Sarah majored in English and could write so well. She never said outright 'I'm in love with you and want to run away with you forever,' but that was the gist of it. After I married Ronald, I thought about tearing up the letter in case someone found it, but I couldn't, and I'm so glad I didn't."

"You still have the letter?"

"Goddamn right I do." Bobbie slid off the bed and, naked, walked to an antique dresser against the wall. She bent over to pull open the bottom drawer, which made an ancient scraping noise as wood slid against wood. Sylvia marveled at Bobbie's lovely form, plump and curvy, her ass round and succulent. The backs of her thighs and calves, caressed by the muted sunlight, glowed like the softest things on earth.

Out came a tattered shoebox. Bobbie returned to bed, removing the lid.

"It's at the bottom." Bobbie lifted out a pile of yellowed paper, consisting of old cards, letters and newspaper clippings. A musty odor filled the air as she shuffled through mementos, plucking out a letter from the War Department.

"I hid it in here." Bobbie's fingers parted the top of the envelope to pull out another, smaller envelope inside.

"Ronald was so embarrassed by this rejection letter, I knew he'd never look in here."

"Rejection letter?"

"Yes, from Uncle Sam. He had heart irregularities and was labeled 4-F, unfit for service."

"Oh, Jesus. Poor man."

"Isn't that a hoot? I mean really." Bobbie again raised an eyebrow. "Nowadays, kids are burning draft cards and protesting. Back then, anyone and everyone wanted to serve their country."

"These are different times, my love."

Bobbie slid several sheets of folded, yellowed paper out of the envelope. With great care, she opened the delicate leaves and handed them to Sylvia.

"Her penmanship was so much better than mine, so lovely to look at."

Sylvia shifted her body, resting against her lover's bare skin, allowing more light to illuminate the letter. Bobbie pressed her breasts against Sylvia's back, wrapping her hands around her waist, chin resting on her smooth shoulder, reading Sarah's letter yet again.

"Oh, dear girl." Sylvia's brow furrowed. True to Bobbie's claim, Sarah's penmanship was neat and beautiful, but she also had a way of writing that said nothing about a lesbian relationship, but confessed everything about it.

"I haven't read this in years." Bobbie nuzzled Sylvia's shoulder. "I memorized it ages ago."

After several minutes, Sylvia gently folded the letter and slid it back in the envelope. She took a moment to examine Sarah's writing on the face of the envelope. No return address, and Bobbie was simply addressed as "Mimsy."

"Mimsy?" Sylvia turned to brush her nose against Bobbie's.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son." Bobbie smiled, a tear streak still glistening on her face. "We both loved Lewis Carroll."

Another kiss.

"Do you know what happened to her?"

Bobbie looked away from her lover, silent.

Sylvia caressed Bobbie's neck, not wanting to press her, but she finally spoke.

"I saw her at the market about ten years later, after the war. We were both pushing carts full of crap, and it took me a moment to recognize her."

Bobbie slid back down on the bed and pulled Sylvia to her bosom, making her sigh.

"She had put on some weight, and was pregnant, to boot. Certainly not the Sarah I remembered."

"Oh."

"I eyed the ring on her finger and her big belly. We exchanged pleasantries, but none of the old magic was there. The feelings had certainly gone. I searched her eyes for the loving gaze I used to know, but there was nothing but sadness."

Sylvia nuzzled one of Bobbie's breasts like a big, soft pillow. "The flame had gone out."

"Long ago. Of course, I didn't give a shit about her appearance. I was plumping up myself. Knocking off weight after Billy was born was next to impossible. It was her eyes. Goddamn those eyes. Nothing from the past."

Bobbie, gazing down, cuddled Sylvia against her breast. Sylvia's parted lips almost touched an erect nipple.

"She said she was happy and married and her husband made a lot of money at his job. Pretty much what every young wife said after the war, or a variant of it."

"She had conformed."

"Well, hadn't we all?" Bobbie glanced down at Sylvia's face. "We had beaten the Nazis and the Japs and everything was bright and beautiful, at least on the surface."

"You can say that again. I was still in High School, but even then, it was like we were obligated to be happy. We had no excuse to be anything else."

"Ah, you nubile, young vixen." Bobbie changed the subject, planting another kiss or two. "Mama's corrupted you with her lesbian ways."

"Oh, Bobbie, please!" Sylvia giggled again. Her giddy joy couldn't be quelled in the aftermath of their lovemaking. "You're not old enough to be my mother."

"I don't know, love." Bobbie petted Sylvia's forehead, stroking her hair back. "In some parts of the south, I hear..."

"Well, if you're my mother, then it's incest!" Sylvia playfully bit her lover's nipple.

"Ouch!" Bobbie jumped. "Naughty girl!" In retribution, Mama locked mouths with her girl for another lingering, tongue-lashing kiss. When they were done, Sylvia cupped Bobbie's cheek, lost in her loving face.

"But no matter. I'll be your girl." Sylvia's eyes had gone dark with desire. "I'll do anything if it pleases you."

Several minutes passed as they touched each other's faces, then Mama looked away, tears streaking from her eyes. Sarah's story wasn't done.

"Did you ever see her again?"

Bobbie reached to the nightstand for a Kleenex, majestic breasts shifting with the movement of her body. She dabbed her eyes, then blew her nose.

"The poor girl overdosed about ten years later," She said while sniffling into the tissue.

"Oh, my lord!"

"I found out about it in the obituaries. Thank god I checked them that day. I managed to make the memorial service just in time and hid in the back pew."

"So much for happiness."

"I just wonder how it would have turned out if I stayed with her." Bobbie's voice quivered. Again, she fought back tears. "That was over thirty years ago, and I've played it out in my mind over and over. Every conceivable scenario has been picked apart."

"You shouldn't beat yourself up for what you did, honey," Sylvia whispered. "You were practically a child."

"I wish I had my wits about me then, but still..." Bobbie sniffed. "I wouldn't trade my time with Ronnie for anything in the world." She chuckled through the tears. "I even played out a scenario where I was married to Ronald, had my boy, and kept Sarah in the guest bedroom."

"Oh, my!"

"Yeah, I was trying anything to make it work. Absolutely anything. Then I thought about if I hadn't met Ronald, and how that would've turned out."

"And?"

"I most likely would've stayed in college, and my relationship would've deepened with Sarah. Thickheaded me would've realized how much we were in love. Still, we'd be a couple of filthy, perverted lesbians." Bobbie's face darkened, angry at the ways of society and its twisted ideas of right and wrong.

"Nobody bats an eye at two young women sharing a domicile, but in time, people expect them to find husbands and have kids and live the American dream. Two women who live together past a certain age, well, they're old maids."

"You could've still pulled it off. That 'haven't found a right man' bullshit still works."

"Honey, that's yet another fantasy I've run through my addled brain until I'm ready to scream."

Sylvia rose on one elbow, drawing within an inch of her friend's reddened nose. Another kiss and she nuzzled Bobbie's neck, right below the ear.

"Look, my love," she whispered against Bobbie's skin. "What's done is done, and who of us wouldn't like to go back in time and do some or most things differently? I know there are people would sell their souls for it." She kissed Bobbie's cheek, making her smile. "Now I'm going to repeat what those ragged hippies say when they're all gathered in Lehman park, smoking pot and burning bras and draft cards."

Sylvia pulled Bobbie against her breasts in a tight embrace.

"Live in the now. Right in this moment. The past has passed and no one knows for sure what the future holds. Stop overthinking this."

"Oh, you're the one to be talking." Bobbie slapped Sylvia's butt, giving it a squeeze.

"I know, I know. And it sounds corny as hell, but after what we've done today, I'm tired of overthinking everything. I must stop. It may be impossible, but I'm going to try."

"Yeah, me, too." Bobbie kissed Sylvia's cheeks, then another kiss on her mouth, long and slow and wet. Her fingertips caressed the small of Sylvia's back. "Let's do this together."

At that moment, Sylvia noticed the rays of the setting sun on the wall as the day ebbed.

"Jesus, what time is it?"

Bobbie leaned back to look at her electric clock on the nightstand. Sylvia followed, clinging to her new love's bounteous body.

"A little after six."

Sylvia rolled off Bobbie, onto her back, arms spread out above her head.

"Dammit," she spoke to the ceiling. "I need to get home and make sure Neil hasn't tried to cook something and set the house on fire."

Bobbie traced her finger around Sylvia's stomach, only an inch or two from her bush.

"Or if he's like my Billy boy, getting into the liquor cabinet."

"Oh, no." Sylvia said. "All that's in the house is my cherished Falstaff in the fridge, and I keep count!"

Bobbie leaned over to nuzzle the smooth valley between Sylvia's breasts, but refrained from taking a nipple in her mouth. She was only getting started, dammit, and already their day was done.

"Honey, before I release you from this bed, I'm going to ask the obvious." She gazed into Sylvia's eyes. "I hope we're going to do this again, and again, and..."

It was Sylvia who shed a tear this time. Grinning as broadly as she could, she nodded vigorously.

"Go home to your boy and enjoy the time you have with him before he leaves the house as a man."

"Yes...yes."

"One more thing." Bobbie smiled, sniffing Sylvia's face. "You need to jump into my shower and wash off that pussy! What would Neil think?"

"Oh, shit!" Sylvia clasped her hands to her face. "How would I explain that to my son?"

As Sylvia ran, naked as the day she was born, to the bathroom, Bobbie called out after her.

"Just tell him your new dyke girlfriend from work is going to teach you how to muff dive!"

Another giggle as the sound of water and the screech shower curtain rings against a metal rod emanated from down the hall.

Taking care not to get her hair wet, Sylvia washed herself thoroughly, removing any evidence of the afternoon of sexual abandon she had engaged in. Bobbie's lavender soap smelled wonderful.

Eating pussy. God, I hope I can give her as much pleasure as she's given me.

Bobbie, still naked, helped her friend towel off in the steamy bathroom. They returned to the bedroom where Bobbie slipped on a silky robe and helped Sylvia get decent.

"Mmmm, I smell so good now!" She loved having someone help her dress.

"I get that soap down at Woolworth's. The girl special orders it for me."

"I love it." Sylvia looked in the mirror, trying to make her hair look as neat as possible. "Almost as much as I love you."

"Ah! You bitch!" She slapped Sylvia's ass. Unable to muss her friend, Bobbie kissed the back of her neck, still wanting more. "I love you, too, sweet girl."

They both stood at the front door.

"See you Monday, girlfriend."

With a final kiss, Bobbie patted Sylvia on the butt as she trotted out the door. Driving home, she passed through downtown, gazing at the glut of neon signs lining the streets, sparkling in the twilight. Although the large stores remained open, small shops had closed up for the weekend.

Late Saturday afternoon traffic was sparse, but she knew things would be picking up as evening arrived. People would be going to movies and bars and restaurants, trying to relax, maybe forget the woes of life and work. People pairing up for the first time, or for the thousandth time, after spending years together. Sylvia wondered if there would be a thousandth time with Bobbie. She damn well hoped so.

Her mind wandered at a traffic stop as she watched two mature women walking, arm in arm, into a dark, divey-looking bar. She knew nothing about them, but imagined they were lesbian lovers who had been together for years, playing by societal rules, pretending to be a pair of old, spinster girlfriends. Then, later on, they would return to their apartment, also dimly lit, and wreck the bed with their passion. Then they would watch television and have beers, or maybe wine or tea. By the wee hours, they would extinguish the TV and spend the night wrapped around each other in love and passion, enveloped in soft, caressing bedclothes.

The moving truck behind her honked once, startling Sylvia from her reverie. The traffic light had changed. She waved an apologetic hand out the open car window and gently pressed on the gas, hesitating for another, "normal"-looking couple crossing the street ahead of her.

"Son, I'm home!" The moment the door shut behind her and she inhaled the familiar scent of her own home, a deep weariness came over Sylvia.

God, this day has worn me out, mind and body.

She kicked off her pumps, hanging her purse by the kitchen door. She wondered how many thousands of times she had done that over the years.

"I'm in here, Mom," Neil responded.