The Art of The Squeal Ch. 02

She went to bed Wednesday night walking on rich air. She put herself to sleep full of decaffeinated tea and biscuits, wondering what blessings Thursday might have in store. She awoke to the first, as Aunt Sylvie greeted her with her happy beginning. When her dear auntie asked what she wanted to do today, Noelle thought a moment, and suggested they visit the mall. Were it possible to ever break Aunt Sylvie's bank—it wasn't—Noelle wouldn't want to hit the mall just to take advantage. But Sylvia'd already told her it was a privilege and a delight to be able to buy her things, and just to take care of her in general. So Noelle thought she may as well enjoy it.

They drove up into Bloomington to conquer the Mall of America. A first couple hundred bucks later, the dames had bags in their hands containing more new threads, shoes, books and toys, including A Workshop-Built Bear. Noelle felt like a kid again. She wanted to hold Aunt Sylvie's paw and skip beside her. They chatted up a few kioskists and store workers, and Noelle was greatly charmed at the casual way Sylvia referred to them as aunt and niece. Without even mentioning the word "adopted." As if related by blood. Her old life before Saturday began to feel like a surreal dream. This December, she'd hit her big 3-0. She could hardly wait. It would feel like a do-over. A clean slate. A fresh future. Her heart accelerated thinking about it all, as they entered the food court.

"So what'cha think, sweetie?" Sylvia asked her. "What looks good for lunch?"

"I think I'm gonna have to go with a BK Whopper."

"Regal choice," winked Sylvia. "The King it is."

Several minutes and two trays of fast food later, the debonair duo chose a table. They gabbed and giggled in and around bites. It bore repeating just how elated Noelle was to spend every moment she could at this point with Aunt Sylvie. The old dame might've had to break out the green to sway her that first night, but now that they were getting to know each other, Noelle was finding out all sorts of interesting and charming things about her. She'd done a lot of traveling, dabbled in many varied hobbies—not the least of which was in fact painting—accumulated a vast wealth of knowledge, and fortunately retained most of it. And she greatly valued Noelle's company in her life as well, Sylvia told her, taking the girl's hand to give it a kiss.

Noelle snickered and again turned attention to her Whopper and fries. When she idly looked back up, something else caught her eye. Someone else, as a matter of fact...a few yards behind Aunt Sylvie's left shoulder.

"Anyway, babe," Sylvia was saying, "My birthday's June 10th. So I hope it goes without saying I'd like you to do something with me. We could take a trip. Tell me, what city have you always wanted to see? I know there's gotta be one."

Noelle's eyes widened at the figure she saw over Aunt Sylvie's shoulder. She almost promptly dropped and shielded her face.

"Oh my God."

While these words seemed appropriate, the tone and body language weren't quite to Sylvia's expectations. She furrowed her brows.

"I thought the idea of traveling somewhere'd at least get a smile outta ya."

Keeping her face concealed, Noelle turned up to address her.

"No, um...I-I mean, uh..."

She gestured with a cock of the head.

"...That-that guy over there. Brown hair, green t-shirt, jeans. Don't be obvious."

Sylvie slowly and discreetly shifted around to look, and observed.

"Okay," she murmured, matching Noelle's still tone. "What about him?"

"I, uh...I met him about ten years ago. And...something, well...happened, between us."

"Oh?" Aunt Sylvie arched her eyebrows. "...Should I ask what?"

"Well, I...dunno if I wanna get into it too much. But let's just say there seemed to be some...trauma involved," Noelle told her.

Alarm filled Sylvia's eyes.

"Oh God. Did he...?"

"Um, not exactly—if you're asking what I think you're asking."

"Are you sure you're thinking what I'm asking?" Sylvie asked. "I'll confront him, or bring him over if you want."

"NO. No," refused Noelle, raising her voice and shaking her head more vehemently. "Thanks, Aunt Sylvie, but I don't think it's exactly what you're thinking. Why, uh...why don't I tell you about it on the way home. 'Kay? Please?"

"Well, all right," Sylvia agreed, willing to honor the girl's wishes. "Shall we continue then?"

The ladies concluded lunch and navigated more of the mall, making additional purchases. Aunt Sylvie's curiosity grew as she noted the spark had abandoned Noelle's eyes and the bounce her step since she'd seen that young man in the food court. Though she'd denied it, Sylvia couldn't help but wonder if her speculations were correct. It would explain her disturbingly abrupt change of mood. But she stuck to their agreement, and kept mum until they departed, and climbed back in the car.

"Whew. Okay. So..." began Sylvie, as they tossed their bags in the back seat. "...The, eh...guy in the food court?"

Noelle squirmed a little. It was clear discussing this made her uneasy.

"Uh, right, right. Can...Aunt Sylvie, can-can we take the long way home?"

"Well, we don't have to go straight home. I'll just drive around awhile if you need some time."

"I appreciate it. Here's the thing. When him and me were nineteen—we're the same age—we went out for a while. And after a few months it started to get serious. And...it was a little weird at the time. He was different from other guys I'd met. He never really tried to grab me or touch me, which I'd...honestly started to get used to from other dudes. So at first, I liked that about him. But...well, four or five months later, probably, like I said, we'd gotten a little serious. And, he seemed to like kissing and snuggling me, but...not much else. For some reason. And it confused the fuck outta me. I always thought..."

She sighed. "Anyway, so, I always, um...went solo," she cleared her throat. "But I was starting to wanna be...y'know, with him. But it just didn't seem to be happening, on his end. So I at least wanted to know where he stood. It had almost been half a fucking year, for God's sake. So one day I say to him, 'You do like me, don't'cha? You're not gay, right?' He says yeah, he likes me, and he's not gay. So I'm like, then what's the problem?...Then he drops a bomb on me."

"Oh, goodness," Aunt Sylvie jumped in, thinking she had it. "He was with another girl."

"No. Actually, no, he wasn't. And that wouldn't have even been really possible, turns out. 'Cause the bomb he dropped on me was...he thought he was asexual."

"Oh." Sylvia reddened in a bit of embarrassment. "Well. Guess I called that one wrong."

"'S okay. So, at the time, I..." This being where the regret started its way in, Noelle pushed herself to go on.

"...I just found that unbelievable. We were fucking nineteen, Aunt Sylvie. I figured, every guy's in a sexual peak at nineteen, isn't he? Well, that's what I thought at the time. I thought he was making up a weird excuse to not have sex with me. And to be honest with ya, I was kinda pissed off. And a little insulted. I thought, what's wrong with me that you don't wanna...y'know. And he insisted, nothing, it didn't have anything to do with me, it's just the way he was. But I just couldn't buy that. I couldn't get my head around it. It...just had to be an excuse. So, um...I decided to...kinda...do something...to prove I was right."

"Ruh-roh," Sylvia remarked. "I get the feeling the plot's about to thicken."

"You could say that. So, uh...one morning, we were at his parents' house, and I got up before him. And..." She sighed again.

"...Aunt Sylvie, please keep in mind I was nineteen. And dumb. Obviously. 'Cause...like I said, I was determined by this point to prove—to both of us—that whatever he said, he really did want me. So...this would be where I did something really stupid."

"Oh, dear."

"I decided to wake him up with a, uh...blow job."

"I see..."

"So...I did. And even though he was still mostly asleep, I thought he'd at least...y'know, respond. So I...went for it. But after a couple minutes, I realized...this isn't working. He might not be awake yet, but I'm getting nothing here. The show's on, but the curtain won't rise. At all. But I still don't buy the whole asexual thing. So then I start to think, oh my God, he's impotent. Well, that'd be one reason he's not in a hurry to fuck. But I'd like to think I can still 'cure' that. So I kept at it. And, I was kinda liking it, even if his...you-know-what wasn't. I was ready for him to wake up, and, y'know, and also wake up. So eventually, he does."

"...Uh-huh?"

"So, he's like, what's going on? And even though he still wasn't...excited, yet, I look up and grin at him through it. So when he realizes what I'm doing...well, this would be the part where something else got blown: my mind. In a bad way.

"He freaks on me, Aunt Sylvie. He yanks himself outta my mouth and goes, 'What the fuck?! What're you doing?!' So now I start to freak out too. I go, '...I was giving you a blow job! What's the problem??' And he's like, 'Didn't I tell you I was asexual?!'"

She paused. Sylvia remained quiet.

"So...so, now I'm at a loss. Now I have no clue what to think. I'm like...I was so sure. I'm thinking...you really are? But how is that even...I-I just didn't get it. But, Aunt Sylvie...till another minute later, I didn't know just how big I fucked up."

Sylvia heard her tone getting upset. One hand on the wheel, she took Noelle's with her other.

"So next thing I know, he gets up, gets dressed, and tells me to get out. He said..."

Noelle sniffled. Tears pricked her eyes.

"...He said I'd violated everything we'd had together. He said I obviously hadn't trusted him, and that now he didn't trust me. He said he couldn't even look at me anymore. He was so upset and so angry, and...and all I could say was...'Dude, aren't you overreacting a little? I was just trying to be romantic and sexy for ya! Okay, so maybe you are asexual. I mean, yeah, that's kinda hard for me to swallow'—pun sadly not intended—'but, but...I just don't get the concept! Please, just...help me understand! I'm sorry!'"

Silence took over for a moment. Aunt Sylvie's spirits sank along with Noelle's as she heard her crying.

"That's when he said what hurt the most. He turned his back to me, and just loud enough for me to hear, he goes...

"...'Please just leave. I don't ever wanna see you again.'"

Sylvia felt her heart crack. Noelle's story was told, and her sobbing filled the silence. So now she knew.

"God..." She shook her own head. "I'm so sorry that happened to you and him, honey. If it makes you feel any better, we all do things we regret when we're young. And I'm a firm believer that enough time fixes anything. I certainly understand now why you got so distraught when you saw him. Although it's been ten years. I'm sure that if you tried to talk to him in the mall, he'd at least accept your apology, if nothing else. Not that we have to test that theory."

Noelle wiped and swiped her eyes.

"If it's all the same to you, Aunt Sylvie, I kinda just wanna forget about it. If I can't go back in time and fix it, then I just want it back outta my mind. I'd totally put it behind me until we saw him today. Then it all came rushing back to me in living color. I just wanna get on with my life and let him get on with his, and he won't have to be reminded I basically mouth-raped him. And I won't have to be reminded that I was so petrified to ever meet another asexual guy, or be in a relationship after that...I became a hooker."

"Oh, sweetie...you said yourself you were nineteen. And no, you can't go back and undo it now. I'm sure that if you could you would, and there is your savory element. You see, you're still a good girl. A few mishaps do not a bad person make. If you didn't care or regret it, or if you weren't sorry, then that might make you a bad person. But you did care, and you were sorry. And I'm guessing you haven't done that kinda thing since then. Or're planning to again."

"I haven't. And I'm not."

"Then don't keep punishing yourself. Look at it this way: it looked like he was there today with a couple friends, right? I mean, I just saw him the one time, but he looked like he was having a nice day to me. So clearly you didn't traumatize him into never being able to have fun again. And I'm willing to bet you wish him well now, right?"

"Sure I do."

"See? And you wanna know how I knew that? Because you are a good person, Noelle Beckman. We all mess up now and then. And we can always make amends. What we don't have to do is keep paying the price for the rest of our lives."

Noelle welled and swelled inside. She felt an impulse to say something to Aunt Sylvie she'd not said very many times in her life. She hugged Sylvia's non-driving arm.

"Aunt Sylvie...can I please tell you something? Just...friend to friend? Niece to auntie?"

"Of course, honey. You can tell me anything you want."

Noelle poured all the honesty and sentiment she could into the statement, meaning each word she said.

"I love you."

Aunt Sylvia let out a small gasp, glowing all over with warmth.

"Oh, Noelle, baby doll...I love you too."

*****

Such, A, Sup-ple, Wrist!

Thursday, April 28th, 2016, 10:33 p.m.

One of Noelle's favorite things about being taken in with Aunt Sylvie was that she'd no responsibilities or set beddy-bye-time. When she entered middle and high school, she had to be on campus and in her first classroom at 7:00 a.m. A nocturnal owl like Noelle Beckman was positively exhausted every morning. She and a number of classmates thought it pretty ridiculous. Lots of individuals who worked full-time for a living didn't have to get up this early. Although she guessed her teachers did. And if students were paid to go to school, that'd be one thing. God knew it felt like work, and she gave enough of her time to it. Teachers got up at the same hour, did as much homework as the students did and had the same days off, but at least they got paid. Not much, but they did.

Noelle's first job popped up when she was 16. She worked part-time at Claire's in the Juniper Mall. The money wasn't bad for what it was. Her free time was limited a fair deal more, but now she could buy fun stuff. At the same time, she was always rather jealous of neighborhood kids whose folks spoiled them, showering them with toys like every day was Christmas. And she was very jealous of those born into natural wealth. They didn't have to work, they got to sit around while other people did everything for them, and they could do whatever they fucking well felt like in the meanwhile. What was there not to be jealous of?

After meeting and dating Mickey, the asexual gentleman they'd seen at the mall, Noelle entered her 20s. The situation with Mickey had indeed jaded and disoriented her on the courting/relationship experience. It was her first real romance with a guy, and had turned out to be hardly romantic at all. It didn't seem fair. Other girls had guys begging them for sex. Hers literally couldn't be less interested. He was fine with smooching and cuddling, and that was more than enough for him. For Noelle, not so much.

After college, Noelle hadn't much trouble finding a professional full-time job. The problem was that it was a clerical desk job, and bored the living hell out of her. She couldn't help but crave something more exciting for a living. On top of which, she remained on her own. And while making love to herself was fine, she was getting...tense. And craving some serious...tension-relievers.

She didn't go into the prostitutional arts entirely of her own notion. One late autumn afternoon she was passing through Hemdale on foot, in a hurry to get back to her car, when someone pulled up beside her, called her babycakes, and asked what she'd do for a hunjie. Noelle's gut reaction was to tell the individual to go pound dirt—but not in those exact words—and pick up her pace. So she did. But the more she thought about it for weeks afterwards, she wondered exactly how offended or disgusted she should feel. This man thought she was a hooker, which in and of itself was a little alarming. But that kind of thing was known to happen in Hemdale County. As Noelle processed and reprocessed it, he had wanted to have sex with her. And he was willing to pay her for it. This had never happened before. She might've actually just found her way onto something here.

Since Mickey, Noelle's desires had morphed into a medley of physical and carnal delights, with little need for an emotional connection. She'd had enough emotion with Mickey. She wanted and needed some action now. It struck her that chaps who approached the SYLFs in Hemdale were after the same. Gents were apt to shell out some serious bucks, and it seemed more exciting than being chained to a desk. There were some safety factors to consider, but...had Noelle just found a possible new...career?

She had...but the trouble here was that the novelty of pay to dole sexual favors wore off quick. And that not all clientele were agreeable to her rates vis-à-vis services. Once she'd gotten used to asserting little phrases like, "Hunjie gets you a handy," she was met with haggling. Working out negotiations wasn't normally tough, but she was soon to discover her personality needed to be. Some guys that picked her up were rough around the edges. Others were nice, wanting to hang out with her or chat awhile before or after doing the deed. This was okay, Noelle supposed, as long as they weren't looking to get attached.

Traditional sex was fine as long as protection was involved. She was game for most else, as she supposed hookers basically had to be, though she was most proficient in her aforementioned "handies." It would seem she was born with an agile wrist, incredible dexterity and great rhythm. Perhaps she'd missed her calling as a professional musician. Or...foosball player. And when the realities of the profession materialized, and Noelle found that her "career" and streetcorner came with a severe price, she enjoyed it far less. It would appear she'd trapped herself. This wasn't what she'd wanted after all. She still didn't exactly feel the need for a relationship. But she questioned how much was worse than being forced through a series of one-night stands, or facing the consequences.

Nine tenths of the way through her 20s, Noelle Beckman was about as jaundiced as a grown-up kid could be. By the time the Sultry Spring of Sixteen arrived, and the lass started to wonder just how much more of this she could withstand...enter one Sylvia Quibley.

Before she knew it, she'd spilled it all for Aunt Sylvie on the rest of their way home. After telling Sylvia she loved her like the adopted niece she was, the rest just came gushing out. Well, said Aunt Sylvie, she wouldn't have to worry about all that anymore. Things were going to be just fine. And that really was all Noelle wanted to hear. She was happy. And loved it in her Quibley castle even more now.

With no job, responsibilities or schedule to keep, the pair of night owls could do as they'd been the last several nights—i.e., whatever their hearts pleased. And Noelle's tonight pleased to challenge Aunt Sylvie to another game. So it was back into the game room, where Noelle beelined to a very specific pinball table. It was an '80s-themed machine, with the brightest colors and flashiest designs among its sibling tables, which Noelle'd wanted to play since seeing the game room. It was positively loaded with '80s features and targets. And it was all free play, all the time. So Sylvia retrieved the key to activate it.