tagNovels and NovellasCaroline Ch. 01.10

Caroline Ch. 01.10


Caroline's Story: Maria and 'dessert'

(Hi, please read the intro to Ch 01 so you'll know what to expect. It isn't strictly necessary to read the earlier chapters but some of this won't make sense if you don't so I hope you will!)

Note: This is the second time that 'girl only' sex is specifically mentioned. As I said, I don't go into detail as I have no experience of what happens between female lovers (I don't count adult movies!). If anyone has and they would like to write up an insert I'd be happy to read it. Only one plea – stay in character.


When I awoke in the morning he wasn't there but I could smell bacon cooking so I guessed that he was making breakfast. I quickly dashed under a shower, dried and dressed. When I got downstairs breakfast was ready, bacon and eggs, toast, fruit juice, all the business.

"Must feed a growing girl," he said laughing, "I wouldn't want Jo to think that I didn't look after you."

"Oh," I laughed, "you look after me in more ways than this. I think I like that better," and I pouted at him causing a great guffaw and the response,

"Lena, you're priceless. Eat up and I'll get you to work."

I wanted to just check about seeing Maria so I said, "You don't mind if I see Maria do you Mike, I really want to check out my suspicions and try to talk to her about it."

"You know, you've really opened a can of worms in my head over this Lena, if you can change her mind I think I'd be very happy."

And I'd be very surprised, I thought, but continued to pull the wool over his unsuspecting male eyes. "I'm sure that, if my suspicions are correct, I can talk her round," I said, lying through my teeth. I was absolutely certain that if my suspicions were correct there would be no way her mind could be changed about him.

"I hope so," he said and we continued chatting over breakfast then he drove me to work.

I'd got Maria's phone number off Mike so later that morning I phoned her from work.

"Hello Maria, it's Caroline." She seemed not to remember.

"Caroline?" she said and after a moment, "oh, Caroline."

"Yes, we met last night, I was with Mike."

"Yes, how are you?" A very polite response but I could feel the frostiness even down the phone.

"I'm fine thanks. Look," in for a penny, in for a pound, "we didn't get a chance to chat last night with all those men (and boys) about and I wondered whether you'd like to meet me for lunch tomorrow?" (Mike was away on business again so we couldn't meet.)

She hesitated, "Ermm, I don't know, wh . . . ."

"I really wanted to talk to you," I interrupted sensing she was going to refuse, "about our favourite subject." That should stimulate her interest.

"I don't understand, what do you mean, 'our favourite subject'?" This with a degree of agitation. I think that she had a suspicion where I was going but she was still very suspicious and not very friendly. I think I understood how she felt but I needed to press on if I was going to be successful.

"Well, I don't want to talk on the phone, please, can we meet for lunch tomorrow?"

"Well," reluctantly, "all right. But I don't really know what you are talking about!"

I mentioned a good café in the town and we arranged to meet at midday on Tuesday. The conversation finished with a still frosty goodbye from her and a cheery 'see you tomorrow' from me. Lunch was not going to be easy!

That evening I told Jo everything that had happened on Sunday except about Maria. I wasn't being secretive but I didn't think that I should burden her with another problem when she was still trying to get over Steve. Perhaps after I had put my plan into action regarding her and Mike, I could share Maria's story with her. I would almost certainly need her help in getting them in bed together which was the only way I could see of solving Maria's problem.

I dressed quite conservatively for the meeting with Maria and caught the bus into town to be there quite early. She arrived on time looking like something out of a model catalogue. There's no doubt she was an extremely beautiful woman. I noted several male heads turning in her direction. She seemed oblivious to her own attractiveness, there was no artifice whatsoever in the actions. She wasn't trying to be attractive, she just was!

She greeted me with a frosty "Hello," and we entered the café. We ordered salads and a drink and passed the time with very stilted small talk which only became more friendly when I began to talk about her son. She was obviously not happy at this meeting and I wondered if I would be able to break down her antagonism. After the meal we sat having coffee and she said to me, "OK Caroline, I'm here. I don't know why but I am. What did you mean on the phone 'our favourite subject'. What could we possibly have in common?"

Well, an awful lot, I thought. How was I going to play this? Bluntly, I thought.

"Well," I said looking directly into her eyes, "my favourite subject at present is the man I'm sleeping with, Mike. What's yours?"

A look of shock mixed with anger passed across her face and I knew that I was right. I hadn't misread her expression on Sunday evening, she wanted him badly, I was sure.

"I, um, I, er, I don't know what you mean," she stumbled, "anyway, I'm not sleeping with anybody!"

Oh, nice try, I thought. "I think you do know what I mean," I said still pinning her with my eyes, "I saw the look on your face when you held Mike on Sunday. I think I know exactly what your favourite subject is, and has been for a long while. Am I right?"

She looked away, "I don't want to talk about it," she said, "not to you, not to anyone!"

"That's the problem really, isn't it? You don't talk about it, do you?"

"I don't have anything to talk about and anyway I don't want to," she said vehemently, "and certainly not here!" she added as an afterthought.

Oh, then you do, I thought. Luckily, Jo was on lates so the flat was empty, "Well, if you won't talk about it here how about coming back to my flat and talking about it?" I flashed her a big smile and added, "I make a mean cup of instant coffee." This brought a frosty smile to her face and the barest softening of her attitude. I could see the struggle going on inside her. I supposed that she must have had a desperate need to talk about how she felt to somebody but a tremendous fear that if she did an inappropriate person may find out how she felt. And, of course, if she did talk about her feelings she'd have to acknowledge them and that may be difficult for her. I tried to help her make her decision.

"Look, Maria, I've no axe to grind. Anything you say will be safe with me, and I sense you want to talk." Thankfully, this seemed to make up her mind and she nodded, 'yes'.

"Come on," she said, "let's go and get my car." And, doing so, we drove home.

I showed her into the lounge and went to make coffee (perc'ed actually) and brought it into the room.

"What's this all about, Caroline," she said, more openly hostile now she had regained her poise, "what's going on here?"

Time to come clean, I thought, "Well," I said, "I saw the way that you behaved when you said hello to Mike, the way you held him and the look in your eyes and on your face told me all I wanted to know. You want him, possibly you even love him, I don't know. I also noticed how much like Mike piccolo Silvio looks so I put two and two together and came up with 4. So I asked Mike later that evening, even suggested that he might have been the father."

This had the effect of causing complete shock in Maria, she spluttered, "No, no, that's not true, he isn't, no I don't. I'm not listening to this from some trollop," and she stood up to go.

'Trollop' rather upset me, 'mistress' yes 'trollop' no! So I got a bit angry now. "Oh sit down you silly woman. He told me everything, everything. I know the whole story so I know how you feel about him."

This shocked her even more. "It's not true," she said sitting down again somewhat defeated, "it's not true, not true! He wouldn't have told you."

"Well, he did tell me so what's not true, that he's Silvio's father or that you want him, love him?"

"Look," she said her attitude softening somewhat and she became very agitated, "what we did we did once, a long time ago when I was very young and he was very sad. Yes it's true he's Silvio's father. Only my family know. Why did he tell you. I don't love him, well, I love him as my 'uncle'," she added somewhat unconvincingly looking away.

"He told me because I asked him and he is fond of me and he trusts me, and," I said with added emphasis, "he told me the TRUE story. I know who the real father is."

This prompted a gasp from her and a look of absolute desperation, "No," she said, "he wouldn't. It's not true, Mike is the father!!"

"You and I have to get this together Maria, for your sake and for his. I told him, you see. Told him how you felt about him. Told him I could tell from your face, your eyes, that you wanted him."

"Oh, no, no, no. Tell me you didn't really. I couldn't stand that he knows. Anyway, he's the father. Honestly, it's the truth." She was desperate for me to believe this. I suppose if you live a lie for such a long time you don't want to let go of it. I felt sorry for her but I pressed ahead rather cruelly but necessarily.

"Maria, we don't use any protection when we make love." This brought a look of withering hatred from her but I went on remorselessly. "So I asked him if it was a problem, me getting pregnant. He told me not to worry, he had a vasectomy twenty years ago. So, he couldn't possibly be Silvio's father, could he?"

She looked horrified, "Why are you doing this," she said, "you've got him haven't you, isn't that enough?" she ended beginning to sob. Then another look of pure of hatred that quite worried me. She was obviously jealous, extremely jealous.

I put my hand on hers and said softly, trying to break her mood of anger, "Maria, I just want people to be happy, you're not. You are so sad, I can see it in your eyes. Mike told me you don't have male friends do you?" She nodded softening somewhat. "Have you ever been with a man?"

She looked up with despair on her face, "No," she whispered, "no, I cant!" The she started to cry again, her hatred dissipating into sorrow. Deep sobs suddenly racked her body and I sat next to her and hugged her to me. I figured that this was the first time in nearly 10 years that she had let down her guard. My heart went out to her, how she must have felt all this time, all he feelings bottled up and no one to talk to.

"Ssshhh," I whispered to her just like Jo had to me when I left home, "why don't you tell all about it." I handed her a handkerchief as she regained control and wiped her eyes.

"Oh Caroline," she said, "I've never spoken about this to anyone. Can I tell you. Oh how I need to tell someone." I felt so sorry for her then, she looked small, broken, almost pathetic, but still beautiful.

I nodded, "Oh course," I said, "of course."

"He told you everything did he?" I nodded. "Don't you see? How can I go with another man when he did that for me. My father hurt him you know. He had to go to hospital and have stitches and all. There was blood all over him. Bernardo was too late to stop my father from beating him. Then he came back, later, to try to heal the broken friendship. Do you know? He knelt in front of father and begged his forgiveness, took all the blame, said he had seduced me and he was mortified. He would pay any penance, he had no pride then. How could he do that for me when he hadn't even seen me naked? Don't you understand. What he did for my family and me was something almost unbelievable. He saved me, he saved my family. I owe him everything. Where would I be now if he hadn't done what he did? I owe him that thing he said he took, don't you see? No other man can match up to this," she started sobbing again, "oh how I want to give him what he deserves, what he should have, don't you see?" she asked again.

"Maria, I understand how you must feel," and I put my arm around her and cuddled her to me.

"But that's not all," she continued, "did he tell you about what he is supposed to have done with me?"

"He told me that he described to you what was supposed to have happened, did he?"

"Oh, he did more than that. He sent Bernardo out of the room after we had worked out when it was supposed to have happened because he said it would be embarrassing for us both. Then he said that my mother was almost certain to quiz me about the sex. I was quite shocked that he should talk like that but he went on to say that he would describe what we had done together. Oh, Caroline, I was 16. I knew about sex, mother had told me, but I hadn't experienced anything before this happened. He described how it had happened, how he touched me, kissed me, undressed me, and took me. Then he made me describe it to him, over and over, until I got it right. Every detail he described and made me repeat. How he felt in my hand, inside me, how big he was, all these sorts of things. He said I had to know this because mother would press me about what happened. He was right, she did, over and over. I don't think she ever really believed that Mike was Silvio's father but she had no other candidate so she had to accept it.

But, Caroline, can you imagine what that did to me. I still go to sleep sometimes imagining him doing those things, his hands on my body, me stroking him, it's agony wanting something so badly knowing you can never have it. I even thought of killing myself after Silvio was born, you know, with the depression and everything. You see, I saw so much of him. He was worried and concerned about me, that everything would go right. When mother and me went to Canada to have the baby he came over to see me and afterwards he was always near. My feelings for him were tearing me apart. It was torture then and it still is now. Do you understand why? Can you see that I can't even think about another man? I was 16 when this happened, and a fairly naïve 16 at that."

She seemed defeated after this outburst, flat, lifeless, as though something had been drained from her body. I felt desperately sorry for her. I could see how she would be affected by something like this for the whole of her life. I continued to cuddle her and "sshhhsshhh" her as she cried on my shoulder. Then she gathered herself together.

"It's not fair," she said, "to burden you with my problems, I have to solve them my own way. I'm sorry I was so nasty to you. Do you know I wanted to scratch your eyes out on Sunday. It was obvious you two were sleeping together and just now I could have killed you, you know. It is so painful to see you so happy with him, having him, you know, like that. I met a few of his girlfriends after his divorce but none of them seemed to be as close as you are. But it's really not fair is it? He has his life and you have yours."

"Maria," I said, "I do understand and I'm sorry if I have upset you but you have to talk about these feelings to someone, you can't keep them bunched up inside or they'll destroy you, make you bitter and angry."

"I suppose I know that but I've had no one to talk to, nobody to trust I suppose. I can't talk to mother obviously and I've lived with 5 brothers, all very protective. I certainly can't talk to them, and any girlfriends I have had have soon been snapped up by them. I'm glad I've met you, Caroline, can we be friends?"

"Of course we can be friends, that's what I wanted from the start," and I gave her another cuddle and a quick kiss.

"But what about Mike," she said, becoming serious again, "he knows now, you told him?"

"Don't worry about that," I said, "he doesn't want to believe that you feel that way about him so, when I tell him that I was wrong, he'll be only too happy to believe me. It won't be a problem, honestly. I may not be very old but it's been my experience that men and boys aren't very good at dealing with female feelings. I don't think they understand us at all so convincing him that it was all a figment of my imagination won't be a problem. Just go on treating him the way you do and he won't suspect anything.

"Can I ask you something?" I added. She nodded.

"If you had the opportunity would you go with him?"

"What do you mean?" she asked quizzically.

"If you could take him to bed, would you?"

She looked shocked. "I know it sounds silly, but I've never thought that I would be able to so I don't really know. He's my 'uncle' so he's family."

"OK," I said, "you climb into bed one night and he's there waiting to make love to you, what do you do?"

I could see the struggle going on inside her. All these years of imagining having him was fine but realising that she never would hadn't prepared her for the possibility that someday it MIGHT happen. "If that happened," she said finally making up her mind, "and he wanted it, I'd give him everything, everything I've ever imagined and you'd be surprised how much I've imagined," she added. I bet I wouldn't, I thought but I wanted to press her, to make her think about the possibility. "What do you mean, everything?"

"Well," she said a little shyly, "I know what men and women can do together. I seen all the books my brothers have and their videos and DVD's. I'd want to do all of that with him, give him every virginity. Do you understand?"

"Oh yes," I said laughing, "I understand." This made her laugh as well and she seemed to chirp up a bit. "I'll make us another coffee," I said.

When I came back into the room she seemed much more composed. She'd repaired her face after the tears and again I couldn't help thinking how attractive she was with her 'film star' looks. I poured the coffee and she sipped hers thoughtfully.

"Caroline," she said.

"Call me Lena, everyone does," I said smiling at her.

"Lena," she said pensively staring into her coffee, "can I ask you something?"

"Of course, go ahead."

"Well," she was obviously embarrassed and plucking up courage to ask something important to her, "you know, on Sunday after you left, did you, um, er, did you, err?"

"Spit it out Maria," I said smiling and knowing what she was going to ask.

"Oh, I can't, I shouldn't, it's not fair really. No it's all right, I shouldn't be asking you things like that," and she continued in this vein, trying to convince herself that she shouldn't ask the question so I jumped in.

"You want to know if we made love don't you?"

"I'm sorry, it's intrusive, I shouldn't. Oh, Caroline, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. Oh I so much want to know, you know. Oh no you don't do you."

"Maria," I said sternly, "you're babbling. You wanted to know if we made love." She looked at me eyes wide. "Yes we did. There, now you know. I stayed with him all night. Does it hurt?" I asked.

"A bit, I can't help feeling jealous that you have him, but no, it's not too bad. I like you," she said looking me straight in the eye, "I'm pleased that he has found someone like you to be with."

"Thanks Maria," I said, "I'm glad I found him too. He's changing my life you know. He's so kind, thoughtful, considerate, all the things that a woman really wants. I'm lucky."

"Yes, you are," she said as she stared back into her coffee. She was quiet for a long while then, "Lena, can I ask you something else, I know I shouldn't and, if you don't want to answer, I won't mind but, well, but," off she went again, mumbling to herself trying to justify the question. I suspected what it was, her curiosity must have been unbearable. Here she was sitting having coffee with the girl who was having sex with the man she had fantasized over for nearly ten years. She must have been dying to ask me what he was like.

"Maria," I said, "I want us to be friends. I'll tell you now that one day, I don't know how long it will take, but one day you will have him," she looked shocked, "one day you will climb into bed with him and he will want you and you will be able to do all those things you've thought about. I promise. I don't know yet how it will happen but it will. There, does that make it easier?"

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