Truth & Admiration Ch. 01

"No, I did, I liked it a lot," she told her. "It was a really wonderful time for me actually, but things just ended up differently than I imagined."

She helped Al make the couch up and then climbed carefully up the stairs to bed. She stripped down and slipped under the covers, her head spinning a little as she lay in the dark listening. The house was quiet, and the night was still. It was late enough that even the frogs had quieted down.

In truth, Miranda had been sorry to end the night. As intense as the evening had been, it had been a long time since she'd had so much fun. She thought of how few of her friends were her age. How many of them like Jean and Marcus, like Tom and Anders at the boatyards, Casey at the bakery, were in their thirties and forties and fifties, were married, had partners and kids and lives.

'That's why it was so nice,' she told herself, 'you miss this.'

She thought again of Al standing in front of her naked, her breasts standing out from her chest, her pale erect nipples, her pink fingertips lightly touching her bald mons. Her lips.

The image had been popping into her head all evening, interrupting Miranda's thoughts, distracting her from their conversation, embarrassing her. Now alone in the dark, the house silent, she felt humiliated by her imagination, but now there was nothing to distract her.

'You're just horny,' she told herself. 'It's this fucking house.'

Miranda had been having sex dreams about Thom and Leethie for weeks, but they'd gotten more intense when she'd come back here.

'The scene of the crime.' She thought.

It was always the same. She dreamed about walking in on them again, about standing there and watching them. But in the dreams, she stayed till the end. She would get more and more excited as Leethie got closer to her orgasm, as Thom fucked her harder and harder. Just when Miranda thought she and Leethie were both about to cum, Leethie would look at her and she would wake up, humiliated and soaking wet. She had masturbated, reliving the shame and humiliation again and again, sometimes in tears, but somehow drawn to the humiliating image of Leethie's contemptuous glare; giving her intense, if bittersweet, orgasms.

She kicked the covers off and stretched herself out, making herself as long as she could. Despite herself, she thought of how Thom had come to her just after being with Leethie, not knowing that she'd seen them.

She remembered how he'd kissed her deeply, how hard he'd been. He'd been so turned on as he tried to push into her. She'd thought of the other times he had come to her this way, had wondered how long he had been fucking Leethie, then fucking her. She had pushed him off her onto his back, he'd tried to stop her as she took his cock in her hand. It had still been tacky from Leethie's cunt. He had pulled at her as she'd moved to go down on him, had even pleaded "don't" as she took his glans in her mouth. It had tasted like him, maybe muskier. She had thought she might have been able to pick out Leethie's flavor, but she hadn't.

She had never felt him so engorged, so rigid, so totally turned on. She had cleaned Leethie off the head of his cock and listened while he had gotten off on it; so had she. She had squeezed his erection hard in her hand and then pushed her head down. He'd gasped and jerked. She pushed until she'd started to gag - until her eyes teared up; until it hurt.

After taking as much of him into her throat as she could, she had retreated, had gulped for air but she'd continued to kiss and lick him, had listened to him groan and whinge with pleasure, while she licked and sucked his shaft clean. He'd grabbed her by her hair as she'd pressed her nose into the wet curls of his pubic hair. He had tried to pull her away, but that was when she had smelled her.

She remembered holding herself there as long as she could, with Leethie's cum all over her lip and nose, taking long deep draws through her nose. She had stroked him like that, grinding her face into his curls, drenched in Leethie's cum, until he'd jerked and cum in her hair.

'You're drunk' she thought, covering her face with her hands. Her fingers were sticky and wet, she'd been masturbating, she realized.

"Fuck!" she groaned.

"Miranda?" Al called.

Miranda pressed her eyes with her thumbs till she saw spots and cascades of color.

"Miranda?" Al called again. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah?" Her voice sounded shallow like it came from her throat like she had no lungs. She reached for the sheets, covering herself. "I'm sorry, I just.."

"Are you crying?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm a little drunk I think."

"What's wrong?" Al whispered.

Miranda's turned. She could just make out Al's head peeking above the books.

"Oh Jeez Al... " she started, stopping to breathe deep. "...It's such a fucking cliche."

"I showed you mine," the girl whispered.

Miranda pictured Al's pale breasts and stomach. Her fingertips. Thom's wet curls.

"Please?" Al asked.

Miranda turned her neck, looked up at the low rafters, wondered if she should try and get up and get dressed - but her head was spinning. She felt Al, her shadowy shape sliding onto the mattress, her weight shifting and settling on the mattress next to her in the dark, and then going still. She could hear the other girl's breath. Soft and fast. Miranda slowly turned on her side, folding her forearms in front of her breasts, careful not to roll any closer to Al.

"My best friend and my boyfriend," she told her. "I saw them together... I watched them."

"Fuck."

"Exactly. Fucking," Miranda laughed. "I really loved them both."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too," Miranda told her.

"How did you... what did you do?"

"I just moved out. They moved to the city. She never reached out; nothing. That was almost a year ago."

"Oh God, that's..."

"That was the worst part," Miranda said.

"Yeah, it is," she agreed.

"I'm OK though, you don't have to worry," Miranda told her. "Go get some sleep, I'm fine."

There was a pause. Miranda listened to Al breathing.

"I was afraid," Al admitted finally. "It's just so dark and quiet here."

"I know, it took me a long time to get used to it."

"I started thinking about... the fucking Pickle."

Miranda barked a laughed. She stifled it right away, but it was too late.

"Don't!" Al whined. "It's your fucking fault, with that God Damn voice you did."

"You laughed at it!" Miranda reminded her, trying not to laugh more, failing.

"Yeah but that was in the car. Stop!" she told Miranda, "Don't laugh!"

But Al was laughing too. She pushed at Miranda's forearm, trying to shake her. They stopped laughing, but Al's hand stayed on her arm. Miranda's heart was racing. She thought of Leethie's glare.

"When I first moved here I used to have auditory hallucinations as I fell asleep," she confided - trying to distract from what was happening - whispering now, not sure why. "I'd hear sirens, trucks, drunks, and junkies screaming - all the things I was used to. It was my city girl's mind soothing itself to sleep. That's fucked up right?"

"Yeah, but kinda nice too," Al whispered back, her voice airy and light.

"I used to be afraid... that a serial killer or wild animals would get me," Miranda continued nervously. "But I feel safe here now, safer than I've ever felt anywhere else. There's no one out here who wants to hurt me, and as for animals, they don't want anything to do with us. The biggest things around here are deer and maybe an occasional black bear."

"You're not afraid of a bear?" Al asked, her startled girly whisper made her think of some archetypal sleepover. But she had pulled her face close to Miranda's, whose wet fingers were just below their chins. She felt ashamed and was sure the other girl must smell her stink on them.

"Marcus once asked me if I knew the difference between a black bear and a brown bear," she pushed on, "Of course I didn't. 'Kick it in the ass, if it runs away, it is a black bear' he said."

"I don't get it," All admitted. "Also, was that supposed to be a German accent?"

"Shut up! I do a good German accent!" Miranda laughed, knowing she didn't.

"It kind of sounded like an Italian doing a Chinese accent?" Al giggled. They both laughed and Miranda thought maybe the moment had passed, but Al squeezed her arm tighter, pulled at it, bringing Miranda's wet fingers against the soft flesh under her jaw. her heart jumped at the contact. They went quiet.

"But whatever," Al asked, her voice hushed again. "Why did he tell you to kick the fucking bear?"

"I didn't get it either," Miranda admitted. "His point was, that even though they look the same, black bears are so timid you can kick them in the ass and they will run away."

"And brown bears?"

"I guess they will turn around and tear you to pieces."

"Jesus."

Miranda laughed again, but without conviction. "I know, but there are no brown bears here, so you know - whatever."

"Still..."

Al went quiet, but her hand stayed on Miranda's arm, holding her wet fingers against her chin. Al's thumb scraped back and forth, but her breath was deep and slow. After a while, Miranda thought maybe she was drifting off.

"Did you mean it," Al asked, "when you said it looked pretty?"

Miranda felt a brilliant charge. Pictured the little fold of pale bare flesh and felt her whole body go hot; a loud hitch in her breath. Al's fingers moved on her arm, making tiny grabbing movements.

"Oh yeah Al, I meant it. You're so beautiful, it looks beautiful. Leethie..."

There was a long electric pause, while Al waited for her to finish, while Miranda struggled with herself. She had never told anyone.

"Is Leethie your friend who cheated on you?" Al prompted quietly.

"Yes," Miranda breathed.

Her lungs felt like dry paper husks. Couldn't believe she was going to tell Al but knew she was. Their foreheads were touching now. Al's eyes were wide open, looking into hers. Miranda realized the Moon had risen, that the loft was filled with silvery light.

"She kept-'' she began, but had to swallow, her mouth was full of spit. "Leethie liked her's shaved, that's why I started doing it I think, to be like her.

"Were you two together?" Al asked after a long pause.

"Leethie would... She used to make me." Miranda told her. "It started as a drunk thing. We were horsing around - like 'do it, you know you want to!' - but then she wasn't horsing around anymore..."

Miranda had said something about how she shaved, a compliment. Leethie, smiling wickedly, her thick blonde hair wild like a halo, the little hostel bed, had grabbed and pushed her. Both hands on the top of her head, suddenly so strong; suddenly using so much force. Miranda remembered retreating between her raised knees. Leethie had grabbed her by the hair, had yanked her mouth against her cunt, had held her there laughing. Just fucking lick it bitch, you know you fucking want to! she had hissed.

"And then I don't know, it just turned into this thing." Miranda heard Leethie's laugh in her mind, the triumph of it. "It happened more and more, and then finally she'd just tell me, and I'd do it."

"Did she ever? Al asked. "Did she ever do it for you?"

"No." but Miranda was gripped by shame, she couldn't make a sound. She just moved her lips.

Al's grip tightened and she pulled Miranda's arm upwards, until the back of her hand was against Al's lips, and kissed it.

"Thank you, Miranda, for telling me that, for picking me up, for taking care of me, for telling me I'm beautiful, for all of this," She whispered into the back of her hand, kissing it again. "I'm so grateful."

Al kept her hand against her lips. Miranda was shaking, knew the other girl could feel it, Al was breathing hard, they both were. Al began to bus her hand with her lips. Pressing it against her cheek, caressing her face with it.

"Al" Miranda whispered.

"Please Miranda."

Miranda's heart fluttered as Al turned her arm, pressing her hand to her lips with her other hand, she kissed Miranda's palm wetly.

"Please,' she begged into the bowl of Miranda's hand. "Please."

Miranda's wet fingertips smeared Al's brow. She took a deep shuddering breath and cupped her hand till she felt the tickle of Al's long lashes against the soft pads of her fingers. Al squeezed her arm and moved it so Miranda's fingers were at her mouth. She kissed them one by one.

Miranda pushed her index finger at Al's kissing lips, felt them open, and slid it in, past her teeth, touched her soft tongue, moved her finger over it in small circles. Al sucked softly while Miranda explored the little muscle, her breath growing short.

She pulled it out and moved it wetly over Al's lip and chin, caressed her jaw and neck. Al took hold of Miranda's other arm, unfolding it from her breast, she guided both her arms upwards, and ducked her head so Miranda's hands were on top of her head. She pushed her fingers through the girl's thick hair and smoothed them against her scalp.

"I've never-" All started.

Miranda was panting, she could feel the girl's breath hot and fast against her bare breasts.

"...Please Miranda," Al cried softly. "Make me do it."

Al's words split her like an ax. Her hand in Al's hair tightened and began to push down. Miranda's heart thundered. It felt like it might explode. She felt Al's hands on her waist as the girl slid down the mattress taking the covers with her. Miranda lifted her thigh and pushed AL's face into her wet curls with both hands, gripping her hair tight.

She thought of hitchhiking with Leethie the first time. It was the morning after the hostel, and Leethie seemed to have forgotten what had happened the night before. When the little red Deux Chevaux had pulled over Leethie had turned to her, and with a wicked grin shouted Shotgun! Cunt-breath in the back seat! She remembered how she had stood there stunned, feeling hollow on the side of the road as Leethie ran ahead laughing and calling Bon jour monsieur!

Miranda began to grind against Al's face and could feel her wet bush scraping against the girl's lips and chin. Her wrist twisted, as she turned onto her back, bringing Al with her. Her hands were shaking badly but she tightened her grip on Al's hair, pulling between her widening legs.

She thought of how Leethie would taunt her, calling her a dyke, a pussy-cleaner, an ass lick. Her face burned. She felt Al's open mouth covering her, her tongue pressing inward, parting the tangled of her bush, finally finding the soft smooth flesh within.

'Mother of pearl' Miranda thought, remembering Leethie's smooth thighs gripping her and the wet silk feel of pussy in her mouth. Al's little tongue moved through her, her soft smooth cheeks between her thighs. She rolled her hips and felt Al's little tongue slide across her perineum.

"Oh God Al!" she crooned.

Miranda was so wet and open. She felt her mouth flooding as if in sympathy with Al as the girl's pointed tongue pushed deep and curved upwards. She clenched her teeth and threw her head back. Thought of Leethie, taking off her pants downstairs while Thom slept above them, silently pointing at her feet; remembered kneeling in front of her obediently, curling her tongue deep inside her. Al's hands squeezed and rubbed her thighs as her tongue slid upwards again and again.

"AL!" she sobbed, letting go of the girl's hair, Miranda slid her hands over her belly, slick with beads of sweat. She held her breasts in palsied hands as a wave of pleasure broke, leaving her to jerk and choke nonsense. The girl's tender adoration moved through her like an avalanche, obliterating the images, scattering her thoughts, leaving Miranda to herself, occupying her body, in the moment, there with Al.

Her lips and tongue mashing and dragging softly over Miranda's sex were suddenly enormous, bigger than both of them together. She reached for the sheets above her head, her wet palms twisting at the linen, luxuriating in the strain. Her back arched as Al pursed her lips over her clit and started to suck at her little bead, swirling her tongue as she did.

"ALETHEIA!" she thundered against the night, against the darkness. The pleasure seemed to tear her apart, to break her mind into pieces, to blow everything apart and away.

---

Miranda found Aletheia sitting on the back porch, wrapped in the comforter from the sofa. The fields were still cloaked in a heavy mist, but the house-sized lichen-covered boulders stood above the mist like islands in a foggy sea. The world was hushed. A cow bellowed somewhere out of sight.

Alethia turned at the sound of the screen door, and seeing the coffees, started to get up to help Miranda.

"Don't" Miranda told her, stopping the screen door from banging with her foot. "Have you been up long?"

"About an hour," she was smiling sweetly, had something to share. "I had to pee, it was still dark. I went to the outhouse by myself!"

She beamed with pride, looking scrubbed and fresh-faced in the misty grey morning light.

"Look at you, a regular country girl!" " Miranda congratulated, handing her a cup. "It's cream no sugar, I hope that's ok - cause Jean and Marcus don't believe in sugar."

"Of course they don't," Alethia laughed as she opened the comforter, holding it out like a wing, making a place beside her for Miranda. "But yeah, thank you, that's wonderful."

"How'd you sleep?" she asked as Miranda slipped in under her arm.

"Well!" she told Aletheia truthfully. Her sleep had been deep and dreamless. "Better than I have in a really long time actually."

Aletheia's arm wrapped Miranda's shoulder, pulled her tight against her warm body. There on the edge of the porch, sipping their coffee with their bare legs dangling above Jean's flower bed, no images troubled Miranda, no memories or harsh thoughts haunted her.

"It was so dark last night," Aletheia told her, "I didn't realize how beautiful it was."

"Me neither," Miranda said, looking at the girl, smiling. The scales had fallen from her eyes, the truth, evident, smiled back in all her glory.