Jeff is a jerk. The son of a bitch is messing around with my friend Tonya and doesn't think I know about it. Either that, or he just doesn't think, period. I should have known better from the beginning. Jeff wears a digital watch, and I hate digital watches. Where's the poetry in "4:58pm"? It clings to the death throes of an exhausted hour and it anticipates another which will slowly waste away. Really depressing. Besides, digital watches and clocks are precise and insistent, even when they're totally wrong, just like Jeff, the anal- retentive linear thinker. You know how annoying it is when the clock on a VCR will blink on and off, saying “It's exactly twelve a.m.! It's exactly twelve a.m.!” forever and ever until somebody sets it straight? Turn that into a person, and you've got Jeff.
I need the constant rhythm of muffled tick-tockings like heartbeats which put me to sleep like a baby. I love the worn-down gold of the delicate old watches worn by ladies who aren't afraid to either show a little class or shop at flea markets. I love feeling like it's about seven o'clock-ish and will stay that way for a while, and when it’s not, it will be again tomorrow. The hands of the clock move in slow, steady circles, just how I like the hands of my lovers; they discover new places, and they always come back to those spots that are just perfect.
Now Tonya, on the other hand, wears one of those little pink plastic fashion watches. I don't mind those things so much because they usually don't even have real numbers- maybe four little hack marks. I don't mind Tonya's watch at all because it doesn't have any numbers on it, and besides, it's usually about five minutes fast or slow. That's a good way to think about time. She's too old for the flimsy plastic, but I think it's kind of sexy in a tacky little way. Tonya is a tramp, and I say that with nothing but admiration. I'd love to be the kind of tramp she is. She knows she's pretty, she's not afraid of flirting and flashing a little skin, and she knows how to get off with whoever she wants. She dresses up in worn-out old clothes and dime-store crap, she wears bright "fuck-me” red lipstick and metallic nail polish that's always flaking off. A lot of people think she's weird, but the truth is that she doesn't have to care about primping herself or being fancy. She'd be wasting her time playing Barbie-doll with herself because she'd be just as gorgeous in burlap and twine.
And, I have to admit... I want her. I've never done it with another woman before, but there's a first time for everything... if I only had the nerve. Me and the Cowardly Lion are old friends. I simply can't screw up the guts to really approach her. Every time I even think about it too hard I get a twisting sensation in my belly and my legs turn to mush. I get this swimming feeling in my head and seconds feel like hours. And with her fooling around with my boyfriend, I could no more try to make it with her than... than fly to the moon or turn back the clock.
Besides, there’s something about Tonya that's really kind of otherworldly. It's almost like her feet don't touch the ground, but of course that's not it. There's just something about her that people can sense, it's almost tangible, and you're either drawn to it or it gives you the screaming heebie-jeebies. I'm drawn to it very strongly, but I've seen lots of people (including Jeff!) get so uncomfortable in her presence that they make up excuses to quickly put themselves some distance from her.
So, it’s another lonely night with my horniness, and my fingers. I like to masturbate by stripping down in front of a full-length mirror first. I like looking at women's bodies, so I'm happy that I’ve got one. Sometimes I do a little dance; you know, grind my hips, shake it around a little... but that's not for tonight. No, tonight I need it slow and calm. I try to imagine Tonya's face on my body as I peel my tank top down off my shoulders and draw out my breasts from my bra, but it doesn't work. It’s me. I can't fool myself in the mirror. I put the straps back up and pull off the top regular-style over my head. I love the curve of my breasts as I lift my arms, so I hold it there for a second. I should have my bra off for this, it's all wrong. It's a dingy old one that used to be white, but now it's kind of gray and the elastic parts look all wrinkly. So the tank top comes the rest of the way off and I unhook my bra and put my arms back up. But the moment is gone.
The hell with this- it’s not working. It’s got to be the direct approach or nothing at all. It's a mixed blessing, but I can “jerk" myself off realty quick and come every time, just like a guy. Its better than for some women who can’t come at all, but I only come once, really hard, and it doesn't linger the way it does when I’m making love- it's just gone. I'm usually still turned on afterwards, but I’m never motivated for a second helping. So, my right hand dives into my pussy and my fingertips twirl and swirl around my clit; my left hand goes to my breasts and gives my nipples a few sharp twists and tweaks to make 'em stand at attention. My juices start right up and I relax into a comfortable, steady strumming, eyes closed, head back, I'm on autopilot. My body does the rest.
I'm thinking about Tonya. About the way her hips rock back and forth under her flimsy old thin skirts. Sometimes she wears old-fashioned bloomers or bicycle pants under her skirt and just lets it fly open all the time, hitches it up to sit down, or spreads her legs wide open. Sometimes she leaves more buttons open than she really should- if those tops even have those buttons- and wears a fancy bra or bikini top for everyone to see. Sometimes her straps are done up too tightly and they don't lie flat against her skin- they're stretched taught, leaving a beautiful little curve of her upper breasts bare, just begging to be stroked.
Mmmm, that’s nice. Time to take off those bloomers, Tonya. That’s right. Let's see those thin little panties of yours. She tucks a finger into a leg hole to draw 'em aside... there's her lovely muff! Ohmygod. She’s got it trimmed around the sides, shaved like a bikini wax. That's so sexy. She knows I'm watching her now; were sitting on the couch and drinking red wine, she smiles at me and pulls her panties off. Silly little things, what do we need those for? She leans in close and slides her hips to point more at me, one leg bent and up on the couch, the other leg stuck out to the side with her foot on the floor. She wants me to kiss it Me? Really? I couldn't I... Oh, to eat her pussy... Ahh Uunnrmghl Unngh...! Uuuuuh…!
And suddenly I'm at that moment where everything floats; my body is a mess of jangling, twitching nerves, I don't know where anything is or what's going on, I don't care. I'm vaguely aware of my body- somewhere off in space- pumping itself furiously and shuddering like a roof in a hailstorm. My glands are squirting whatever lovely brain chemical it is that makes me feel this way. All I see is a field of white, maybe there are some black stars or ribbons twisting through it. This place never changes. It’s the same every time I come. I see it fairly often, but I never manage to stay long. I wish it could last forever.
I turn over and rest on my side. I'm satisfied, but kind of depressed. No, just sad. I'd never eat her pussy. I’d never get the opportunity. And even if by some impossible chance I did, I wouldn't know what to do. I've never kissed a pussy before. I probably wouldn't be any good at it. Oh Tonya, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
"Take off that shackle."
Hmmm? Who said that? I must have drifted off to sleep.
"You did. But this isn't a dream. You're wearing a timeshackle. please, you have to take it off right now." The voice is soft, close in my ear, and strangely familiar. Tonya? No. Who is that? It's not Tonya. It's a woman. I'm in bed with some woman? That doesn't make sense. I went to sleep alone.
I open one groggy eyelid and sweep some of my hair out of my face. But its not my hair... wait, it is my hair, but its on somebody else's head. I can't focus on her face too well, but I recognize it instantly.
It’s my face.
I'm looking into my own face, on my own head, on another body just like mine in the bed with me, and she's naked like me, too.
“No, you're not as naked as I am. You have that shackle on your wrist. It has to go. Come on now, wake up a little." Did she just say something about how naked we are?
“How do you know what I’m thinking?" I hear my own voice- the one coming out of my throat, say. She takes my wrist and fumbles with the buckle on my watch- I’d forgotten about it before I drifted off. I'd taken off everything else in front of the mirror.
"I remember it, that's how. I'm you. This me was you. You will be this me. Both of us are still me, and we're sharing the same time again." She's got my watch off now, she handles it like it's hot she holds it with two fingers like some dead thing and tosses it towards the opposite wall. That's okay- it's a Timex. Takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'. Her hands are still on my wrist and upper arm, they're warm and alive and they're my hands too.
"What? This doesn't make sense. How's it possible?"
"I don't know. I’m new at this. But it can be done. I'm here, aren't I?"
I looked across the room at the full-length mirror. Maybe...
No," she said, "that's not it. I'm not from the mirror. Take a closer look at me."
I did. She's right. My face, like everyone's, is just a little bit lopsided. I'm used to looking at a mirror image of myself, and she... me... didn't look like that. She... I... looks like I look in those department store mirrors that show you how you actually look to other people. She looks like I look in photographs. She also looks a little flushed. I touch her face with my fingertips. She raises her head and let my fingers graze down onto her neck. Her pulse is dancing just below her skin- her heart is pounding like a hammer.
"I came back in time. Not from very long from now. I haven't even been out of bed, so don’t ask about what's gone on in the world. I don't know. The only thing I know is that you, dear lady, have a lesson or two to learn. We both do."
"Shhh. I'll explain everything as well as I can. You're going to learn to be a time traveler, and you're starting right now. It’s not like it is in the movies. There are no big flashy machines involved. It's something you do with your mind. This, right here, is your first lesson, and my second. We're... I... both of us... me... are on the first few steps of a long and wonderful road."
"I don't understand. What am I supposed to learn?"
"I've been thinking about that question, and I remember what I... this me... said when I was you, and it's what I'm saying right now, and I'm sure it's right. You're supposed to learn confidence."
That doesn't make any sense to me either. I ask a different question.
“So what are you... that me... supposed to learn?"
'This is a practice run for me. At least that's what I was told."
"The me who was this me when I was you. Just right there like that."
"I don't get it"
"Me either. But we don't have to. This is just an awakening. There's plenty of time to understand it later." She seems anxious. Eager to get on with something.
"You know something I don't. What is it?"
"Of course I do, I’m from the future. I know everything you know now, plus what I’ve learned since, which I realty can't explain. But by now, I've already told you nearly everything I remember that other me telling me when I was you. But yes, I do know a secret, which you'll know when you're me, which will be soon, so be patient."
"Who told you... who tells me this secret? Where does it come from?"
"You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Just open yourself up to this experience and you'll see.”
"I already don’t believe any of this. What experience? Time travel?"
"Well... yes and no. There's a way into something like time travel that we're already familiar with. It's... orgasms. I’m here to give you one. Another one."
I gasp. I don't know if I’m shocked or turned on. Both, I think.
"It's sort of time travel," she explains. "The moment of orgasm never really changes, you know that. No matter how many times you come back to it, it's still the same moment. Imagine being in a tent. Take the poles out, fold it up, move it to another place halfway around the world. Then, set it back up and go inside. Where are you? The same space. The same feel, the same smell. You're in the same tent. Orgasms are like being in the same tent in different places, but with time."
"So...” I'm speaking slowly, "You- that me are here to make me- this me- come. And then... I go back into the same moment I'm in whenever I come?"
"Uh-huh. I’m going to make you come by eating you out. I'm here- in part- to show you that I'm good at it There's no reason to be afraid of disappointing Tanya."
I feel a burning sensation in my chest and face. I'm blushing. I can’t help but look away.
“Hey, remember who you're talking to. I was you just a few minutes ago. I remember stroking off and thinking about her. The reason my heart was beating so hard just now? I just came. I came harder and better than I ever have in my life, and I came from getting cunnilingus from me- this me, who was this me when I was you. At least, that’s what my body was doing the last time I was in it It's hard to explain. But anyway, I know that even though I’ve never gone down on a woman before, I know I’m gonna do a fantastic job of it, since I remember how it felt."
"If I let you, you mean-.” It sounds feeble as I say it- I don't even know why I bother. We both-I both- know how badly I want this. How badly I need it, I don't say anything else. I find myself sitting up and spreading my legs open. I'm dripping wet- more so than I ever imagined. She smiles and looks hungrily at my pussy. She gets up onto her knees and shuffles over to me. She totally messes up the sheets between her legs. Her breasts wag a little as she moves. She has a great ass-I guess I usually don't have such a good view of my own ass, but it’s nice and round and sexy. She's in position between my legs and leans down to give me a kiss on the mouth. Oh god, I wasn't expecting this.
It's nice. Her mouth... my mouth... is soft and warm, and it makes sense that she kisses me exactly the way I like to be kissed. She would know. I feel her lips part slightly and the tip of her tongue flashes across the opening between my teeth. A shiver crosses my shoulders and zips down my spine to my hips, which thrust up against her. My body has a mind of its own, and it's responding to her beyond my ability to control it.
"Do it..." I whisper. "Do it to me now. Please."
"Shhhh. Don't talk. Get lost in it, There's just one thing you have to remember..." Her hands are on my tits and OW there goes one tweak to the nipple, just like I do to myself... of course... and OW there's the other and I can't take it anymore, just do it now, I need your mouth on my pussy... "When you're there, don't be afraid of where you can go. You'll find a doorway in that place. Go into it, Don't forget. Okay?"
"okay, yes, oh please..."
"What aren't you going to forget?" Her mouth is on my tits now, her hands circle my waist moving downwards. She licks at my hard nipples, making them cold.
"the doorway, go into the doorway..." I'm breathing it as much as I’m speaking. My heart is pounding a mile a minute and my pussy is on fire. Her mouth moves down towards my pussy, I feel her tongue flick into my belly button and her head is down there now. I lean my head forward and take a look at her lovely naked ass sticking up in the air. She wiggles it a little for me- she knows I looked. I can feel her hot breath settling into my pussy hair and drifting across my lips. God, this is better than I could ever ask for. Her fingers part me open slightly. The anticipation is killing me. Ohhhh. There's a kiss. Just like her kissing me on the mouth. Now her tongue is tracing a slow circle around me, just inside my outer folds, along the edge of my inner ones. She's at the top and AH there's a little extra flick at my clit but it's gone before I can do more than gasp. Now she's finishing the circle.
She does it again. Again. Again. I don't count I just enjoy It strikes me that she's doing it clockwise, and that she "strikes twelve" at the top. But her tongue is a crazy second hand, its wet and it keeps its own tempo; it belongs on one of those floppy watches in a Salvador Dali painting. My pussy is keeping a time all its own and it’s all the same to me! All I know is that it changes and repeats and I’m lost in it. Now her tongue runs in ripples up from the bottom edge of my hole, dipping in pretty deep, and emerging at the top up by my clit again and OH she's back down and OH she's back up and I need it slower and she knows and goes slower. Steady. Every instant of change is everything I am, I feel her lips running on the same track as her tongue just ahead and just behind it. Her upper lip is the future. Her tongue is the present. Her lower lip, her thick, luscious lower lip, is the past. She stabs deep into me with her tongue as if to say "This is the moment, the moment is now, now is forever, and everything else is just anticipation or afterthought."
And she's right, god she’s right, there's nothing but now, time and space have dissolved in the river of sweet sticky syrup that flows through my cunt. Her tongue is a speedboat dancing on the waves of my bouncing wetness, it’s a red-hot poker reaming the guts out of my sloppy wet tunnel, my pussy the Dali floppy pocket watch, and I can't feel anything else, I don't want to, this is everything, and uuunnnnnh oh god I'm there. I’m coming, I'm coming HARD. I can't breathe, I can't see, by brain tingles around the edges like when my foot falls asleep. everything's white and the stars are out, too... I’ve never been here so long before... Unnnh... Some of the black ribbons are floating closer than others... that one right there's real close... she said to go through the portal… is that it? That ribbon? I can see into it... OH MY GOD!
It's my last orgasm. That's me masturbating. That's me thinking about Tonya. I can see myself rubbing at my cunt and groaning and sweating and shaking. I look good when I cone. I had no idea I was that sexy. If I go into that ribbon, I'll be there with her... that’s what I should do. I don't know how, but I'm moving towards it. I just let it happen...
As I go in, Another shudder goes through me. I'm still coming? Can’t be. No, I'm getting her orgasm here- the me that was her, over there. I see. Oh, I'm going to be there... then. I don't know how, but my body... is coming with me. What’s happening? Everything is all fuzzy... I’m not alone. There's someone else in here with me. It's not another me this time.
"Hey,” she says. "I'm... not sure what to say first here, Dawn."
I don't say anything. I'm about to walk into myself masturbating to orgasm, and here's the woman I'm thinking about when I'm doing it.
"I should probably explain... I think this is on purpose." She smiles sweetly.
“You're... a time traveler too."
"I am now. But not... your now. At least not usually. This is your first trip, right? You told me all about it At least I thought you did. I sure didn't expect to run into you like this."
"Let's start from the beginning." I try to sit but we're not in the kind of space where that sort of thing can happen. We're just kinda floating, and we're just kinda bodiless, but not really. You have to be there. Bodies? Now that I think of it Tonya's naked, too, but I can't tell how I know.
“You taught me how to do this. Some future you, you will. We're lovers- then. You can visit if you like. I guess it's funny that you find out this way, but what the hell. That sort of thing doesn't matter. I do it a lot. We take trips together, but this time, you sent me on ahead to look at you like this," she gestures towards the me whose orgasm we’re sitting in the middle of, "And you said it'd be a surprise. You must have known you'd be here too. You sent me to help with the lesson."